Poor Impulse Control

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And also, hilariously poor, probably unlicensed reproduction of a Banksy painting. At least, I’m pretty sure that it’s Banksy? Whatever the case, this shop is wedged in the middle of arcades and bars and tourist traps, so I am willing to bet that they don’t turn away drunkards deciding that they need ink. Z commented he saw at least one group of people near here with, get this — kitchen roll on their fresh ink. Kitchen. Roll. YARP. I’d not be tempted to get ink done on holiday anyways, but eeeesh.

Today is the penultimate day, and I spent most of it curled up at ‘home’. We went out for a round of mini-bowling, dinner, ice cream, and claw machine crawling. Everyone has a Grumpy Cat plush now, and the girls added more toys to the pile as well. We are taking home in excess of 20 new toys, y’all. four are mine, two are Z’s, and the girls have piles between them. Not that we mind, but it’s kind of amusing that stuffed animals seems to be one of our go-to on holiday souvenir.

For now, gonna go sit over here and be tired.


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