Geordie Shore Now

James grabs a bottle of vodka from the freezer. It’s 9:14 AM. He unscrews the cap.

The Garden.

Wet wipes and empty bottles of CÎROC COCONUT WATER litter the floor. Geordie Shore

Welcome to the club, pet. Now get a brew down yer and tell us who you’re gonna chin today.

Morning, shaggers! I’ve just been for a dip in the North Sea. Absolutely Baltic. Me bits have retreated so far inside me, I think I’ve become a woman. Anyway, recap: Marnie got her lad out, Sophie cried in a bin, and I definitely snogged someone’s dad. James grabs a bottle of vodka from the freezer

storms in, looking like a pumped-up pitbull in a spray-on T-shirt. He is furious.

wakes up in the hot tub, vomits quietly into a plant pot, and gives a thumbs up. The Garden

I’ve just found a bloody chicken in the fridge. And not even a real one. One of them ones that squawks. That’s it. I’m dead. I’ve died and gone to Blackpool.

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