Freaky Friday ...

...but not as we know it. During my creative writing class a fellow writer reminded the class that the horrid rain we experienced for the day was down to it being Friday 13th.

Now though I try not to believe in all this hocus (a trait that makes me a nervous wreck), my disillusioned mind does go crazy.

Of course that Friday I knew it was a good day. I woke up and saw the rain. Instead of moaning about it I relished the fact that I was able to dig out my short Red Hunter wellies for the occasion. Then I had a good class. Then I went home and had lovely dinner with my Papi and Mama Kessie (this doesn't happen often due to the fact Im the middle child, and never have time alone with both!...ooo I so see what being the only child or first born is all about...)
A dispute I had with ASOS was resolved...so far im just listing, I know. My point being that my day was good, not freaky at all...not in the bad luck way.

But it did get FREAKAAAAAAAAY, because I headed to Brixton 02 to see MAXWELL!!!


I thought he emanated enough sex appeal via youtube and my spotify playlist.
No. This man is SEX. I'm drooling thinking about what I witnessed. I have it recorded but 2megapixles will not do it justice.
Me and 2 other shorties (5''2 and declining) swooned, swayed and (i screamed) sung along to the neo-soulful tunes...Maxwell thrusted and talked to the girls...to all of us...and im not talking polite talk...lets just say there were knickers thrown...a black pair that landed on the poor mans face!!! ''I head English people were reserved!'' Maxwell bellowed to a chorus of hysteria.

SWOON. If that was a taste of Freaky Fridays true FREAKAAAAAAAY style, then serve me up one every day of the week.