Monday, February 21, 2005
Weekend
Sundays evenings, as anyone will testify, are crap. They serve only as a waiting room, as you tensely prepare for the un-anaesthetized surgery that is Monday morning.
Jimmy Chung got my 6 quid today, and in return my belly was filled with the remanants of farmyard species injected with the darkest of chemicals. Geiger counters click loud and rapid near my body. Buffets - I don't know why I ever suggested it.
This was after after a night with AF and AM, which ended early enough for me to get back to the flat, finish the Laphroaig and keenly attack the Oban whilst RV + GC + RH watched a DVD. I tried to be quiet, but I was drunk. Then I made them all drunk. The inevitable coeur au coeur took place. In summary:
- I am "Smart, But not". (with regard to understanding other people)
- RV loves me. (scared)
- RH believes true love is immortal. (i remained silent about my current book, which has a chapter hypothesising on the zoological rationale behind extra-marital affairs).
The most disturbing single fact from this week is that I haven't spend a single night sober. If next week remains as this week has, I will go dry for a month.
- July 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
- October 2009
- July 2009
- March 2009
- February 2009
- January 2009
- December 2008
- October 2008
- September 2008
- August 2008
- July 2008
- June 2008
- May 2008
- April 2008
- March 2008
- December 2007
- October 2007
- September 2007
- August 2007
- July 2007
- June 2007
- March 2007
- February 2007
- December 2006
- November 2006
- October 2006
- September 2006
- August 2006
- July 2006
- June 2006
- May 2006
- April 2006
- March 2006
- February 2006
- January 2006
- December 2005
- November 2005
- October 2005
- September 2005
- August 2005
- July 2005
- June 2005
- May 2005
- April 2005
- March 2005
- February 2005
- January 2005
- December 2004
- November 2004
- October 2004
- September 2004
- August 2004
- July 2004
- June 2004
- May 2004
- April 2004
- March 2004