Life, and Other Absurdities.

The three of us make quite the spectacle dragging ourselves through the airport. I have the worst hangover of my life, while Rose and Chastity haven’t even slept yet. I couldn't find any clean clothes, which means smelling like an ashtray and leaving a little trail of sand in my wake. Then Chastity pops a Benadryl due to the fact that she’s allegedly breaking out in hives, informing us afterwards that she’s allergic to Benadryl and might start acting a little strange.

Wonderful. Regular Chastity is strange enough.

Before we even reach the plane, she’s muttering incoherent phrases about clowns and iguanas, eyes half shut and head listing toward me.

“Keep it together, Chastity,” I mutter, afraid of arousing suspicion. The last thing we need to do is be detained; so many Euros and brain cells have been squandered on this trip that the possibility of figuring out a new route home is highly unlikely. Although, being stuck eternally in the Canary Islands doesn’t sound like a bad idea. We might not last more than a month or so before our livers malfunctioned, but at least we’d go out with a bang, so to speak.