(no subject)
Mar. 16th, 2005 03:07 amOkay, I feel alive enough now to start posting properly. I say alive, but I mean it only the loosest possible sense. It's quite possible that mylungs may choose to vacate my chest during the typing of this. On with the weekend summary then.
Saturday. Despite feeling the onset of the dread disease that currently plagues, I ventured forth for an evening of debauchery at the venue of choice. Unfortunatly I buggered up the timing de to my running a fever and arrived somewhere in the region of an hour early. I therefore found myself sitting in a club with six other people, none of whom I actually knew.
There was, of course, only one thing to do in such a situation. Drink. Copiously. Deep joy and love was felt for the barman when he cheerily informed that was 2 for 1 on everything before eleven, so would I like to make that a double Jack Daniels?
Too fucking right I would.
Back in my corner I force down some more painkillers in the hope of offsetting the dreaded disease that I knew to be impending. At this point I was fairly certain that it was ebola, slowly liquifying my lungs. This thought comforted me until I realised that the mixture of painkillers and whisky had robbed me of my ability to stand.
After half an hour of sitting, feeling returned to my legs, and peopel started to filter in. They appeared to be worrying dwarven, however. To say the prospect of midget goths in bad make up was unappealing would understate the matter. More whisky.
Eventually someone I know arrives. Unfortunately he's out of his head on acid, flops down next to me and exclaims 'dude, you have to see this film!', handing me his ticket for Constantine. I cough phlegm onto it and hand it back, unable to muster much enthusiasm.
Fortunately drugs are soon forthcoming and I feel much better. People I actually know show up as well, which is pleasant. I spend a lot of time telling people that my beard increases my virility, thereby making me more desirible to the opposite sex.
Oddly, that was true. Despite looking like the wildman of the jungle during plague season, women kept hitting on me. Sadly I was up for nothing more than a warm bed and a lemsip.
Sunday. I returned home, and slept. Until Tuesday. I have little recollection of this time.
Saturday. Despite feeling the onset of the dread disease that currently plagues, I ventured forth for an evening of debauchery at the venue of choice. Unfortunatly I buggered up the timing de to my running a fever and arrived somewhere in the region of an hour early. I therefore found myself sitting in a club with six other people, none of whom I actually knew.
There was, of course, only one thing to do in such a situation. Drink. Copiously. Deep joy and love was felt for the barman when he cheerily informed that was 2 for 1 on everything before eleven, so would I like to make that a double Jack Daniels?
Too fucking right I would.
Back in my corner I force down some more painkillers in the hope of offsetting the dreaded disease that I knew to be impending. At this point I was fairly certain that it was ebola, slowly liquifying my lungs. This thought comforted me until I realised that the mixture of painkillers and whisky had robbed me of my ability to stand.
After half an hour of sitting, feeling returned to my legs, and peopel started to filter in. They appeared to be worrying dwarven, however. To say the prospect of midget goths in bad make up was unappealing would understate the matter. More whisky.
Eventually someone I know arrives. Unfortunately he's out of his head on acid, flops down next to me and exclaims 'dude, you have to see this film!', handing me his ticket for Constantine. I cough phlegm onto it and hand it back, unable to muster much enthusiasm.
Fortunately drugs are soon forthcoming and I feel much better. People I actually know show up as well, which is pleasant. I spend a lot of time telling people that my beard increases my virility, thereby making me more desirible to the opposite sex.
Oddly, that was true. Despite looking like the wildman of the jungle during plague season, women kept hitting on me. Sadly I was up for nothing more than a warm bed and a lemsip.
Sunday. I returned home, and slept. Until Tuesday. I have little recollection of this time.