my stuff
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thought i
Oof.
Whoever said 'getting shitfaced on a Monday night is a really good idea because you'll feel absolutely spiffing the next day' is a big fat bastard liar and I shall never listen to them again.
Monday lunchtime - my friend (forever known in these parts as The Loop) texted and said 'it's shitey weather. let's go for a pint after work'.
Yes please, thought I.
Monday afternoon clunked on, dragged indeed like a dog with a dirty bum. The wind flew around like a dervish and the weather couldn't decide whether to rain or snow so it decided to do both rather heavily at the same time.
Brrrr, thought I.
As finishing time neared, The Loop texted and said 'it's far too cold to go to the pub, come round to mine instead' and so off to The Loop's I tripped.
Tra laa, thought I.
When I got to the house The Loop was there with her friend and his boyfriend and there was much beer and wine to be had. Being prone to sample the grape and the hops I tucked in along with everybody else and got just as smashed. When the boys left at 10pm I thought I was doing quite well.
Zoom forward a couple of hours to me and The Loop playing a game of forfeit Scabby Queen (cards) and running down to the bottom of her stairs completely naked (her) or in pants (me). Jesus.
The Loop also has agony legs from dancing to Janet Jackson - aparantly I was telling her what to do and it involved lots of lunging.
Ai ai ai - thought I. Deary me.
I got home at 3.30am this morning. I have absolutely NO idea what occupied my time till that time of the day as running up and down stairs in my pants surely couldn't take up that much time - but there you go.
Monday night mayhem for you.
Ouch, thinks I.
4:35 pm - 12 December 2006
