(don’t) let the bed bugs bite

We flew into Durban today

Found out when we got here that tomorrow night’s show is sold out

When we’re on tour, those are pretty much the best words you can hear

Sold. Out.

And room service

Those two words make me tingly too

Having a quiet one in my room tonight

We don’t usually party too much on night’s off anyway

I think I’m still a bit jet lagged

But the main reason to not go anywhere

Is that I’m sitting here in my underwear covered in calamine lotion, cortison cream & all sorts of other stinky potions

Sexy, no?

No

Well you can thank British Airways for that disturbing mental image

‘Cause those unhygienic bastards gave me FUCKING BED BUGS

OK, so I totally can’t prove that

All I know, is on the flight from London to Johannesburg

I started to get itchy

I had a tank top on and I kept scratching my shoulders

Then when I woke up in Johannesburg

I had bites on my arms

Today I have more

I don’t know if that constitutes as ‘bed bugs’

But I googled it

And oh, I totally shouldn’t have googled that shit

I will never learn my lesson

So my self diagnosis is bed bugs

Even though technically, I got them from a grody plane seat

Thanks-very-fucking-much-British-Airways

So now I KNOW I’m going to have nightmares

About big fucking buggy insect thingies

Crawling all over me

Multiplying

GAH!

I think my therapy bill should be BAs to pay, yeah?

And my room service bill too

‘Cause I’m probably going to sleep in the bath

And I’m ordering a bottle of wine from room service to take with me