Monday, May 27, 2013

UNICORN PORN! FOR EVERYONE!

She turned me into a newt! Well, I got better...

Well. I made it. By the skin of my teeth. Only just. But I made it...

Weekends are meant to be like this. And this one coming is going to be even worse. I probably did what I did subconsciously to ready myself for the Annual Malcoholocaust. It all started on Friday afternoon...

The Hot Girlfriend's sister and her dude came over for drinks, since they live up the road and it was about time. This turned into dinner and much sitting around chatting and enjoying a Friday evening beverage, etc. Later on we went to ROAR and stood around pouring beer down our throat, mostly to try and escape what was quite possibly the worst band I have ever heard. All 4 members, the vocalist, the guitarist, the bassist and the drummer, appeared to be playing different songs. The resemblance to Nickelback aside, it was dire...

Saturday came rumbling around like so many before it. With a rather sodden spring in our step, we got ready for the big event, a birthday party of pre-thirties proportions. And by that I mean our age, not prohibition-era America. Bags packed and provisions bought, we eventually got there and hugged a million people. Parents were greeted, interest was shown in childrens' current activities and refreshing beers were enjoyed as we caught up with old friends and talked kak with the regulars. As the less adventurous started drifting off home in drips and drabs, inversely, the boozing started to get more serious. It all culminated in a very disappointing game of beer pong. I had been so excited. Beer pong is a shit game. If that's the most popular way of getting your booze in among America's youth, I despair for humanity. Standing on the other end of a table watching glass-eyed, as someone half heartedly lobs a ping pong ball into a diminishing array of paper cups is ultimately a little bit of a let down. We didn't even finish the first game, when to much hurrah, we all went fuck it and went inside to carry on drinking like normal people. Having abandoned one ball sport for another, we took our places for the Champions League Final. I know Bayern won. Things start getting fuzzy right about here. Apparently the happy revelry carried on until the wee hours, surprisingly without major incident. Great parties are defined by revelling in the tales the next day as you vicariously relive moments of glory from the night before but have absolutely no recollection.

Then the shit hit the fan.

First the Hot Girlfriend was man-down. As luck would have it I still felt FIIIIINE. Got us home, made kick ass brekkie, nursed the poor patient and watched some telly. A nap was in order, after which, the alcohol finally having worn off, the roles were reversed. I got awesome dinner made for me and lots of sympathetic cooing made me feel a little less grumpy. That, and watching Jeremy Clarkson trying to demolish a house in Albania with a combine harvester tank.

Anyway, another week, another series of band practices and other things. So lets hope you and I can keep our shit together until next weekend, at which time I am sure it'll all unravel faster than a ball of yarn in the paws of Wolverine's kitten.

NGDG: Tomorrow I return to work. Maybe. Not sure what I'll be doing. As long as it doesn't involve selling drugs to kids or wearing a silly hat.

Hear! Hear!

Spread The Love. Not The Genetically Modified Staple Foods.

1 comment:

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