Crashing on. I realise that I've been totally rubbish and not really updated in a while. To be honest my Christmas and New Year were far too epic to even begin going in to in any depth so I'll give you a few token highlights....cos I'm nice like that.
The main highlight was my Morgan Spurlock-esque, 30 days, Super Size Me, type alcohol fueled holiday season. I went from the 21st and managed til the 4th until things all got a bit too much and the constant taste of dirty shish kebab in my mouth made me want to vomit a little bit. Ah well. In order to fully complete the Morgan Spurlock experience it's only right I let you know what my conclusions were:
- Surviving on one meal a day which consists of either, chicken and chips, shish kebabs or burgers, eaten at 4am is NOT a healthy or balanced diet. Also, you tend to forget you've eaten.
- Drinking gin causes you to sin.
- Waking up in the morning, still drunk and then trying to do normal things with sober people is really quite fun.
- You're marvelously witty when you're drunk.
So there you go. Bet none of you knew the above did you? No. That's right. You didn't.
One day, not too long ago someone once asked me, "What sort of freaks do you go out with?". This was after I'd disclosed that through the wonders of Facebook (or as I like to refer to it - the instrument of the Devil) I'd found out that one of my ex's is now an Elvis impersonator. I know. Fucking awful. It was a question that I pondered for about, oooooh 5 seconds, before I carried on drinking and being merry. However, this question came back to haunt me over Christmas.
Christmas Eve eve - I go to the pub with my sister and I was at the bar when some guy asks if he can buy me a drink. Of course, I accept (remember, this was in my Super Size Me phase. If they asked me if I wanted a double I HAD to say yes). He then starts chatting (shit at me) me up. He tells me his name is Daryl. Yes. It IS as bad as it sounds. It really is all rather dull and I'm not even sure why I spoke to him in the first place at this point. I give him a fake number (changed the last 2 digits around. ALWAYS a winner. Although he was convinced it was a fake number as it has lots of 7's and 9's in it and things. Work that one out stalkers) and made my escape.
Christmas Eve - go back to the pub for some pre midnight mass cheeky binge drinking. As an aside, never been to a better mass (not to sound all Mrs Doyle on you or anything). They gave out FREE fair trade chocolate at the end AND it only hit the 45 min barrier. I'll be going back there again. However, I digress. As usual. So. There was a theme in the pub cos it was Christmas Eve. The theme was come as your favourite film star. So I'm wandering around the pub bumping in to Marilyn and Uma when I bump in to Samuel L Jackson. Or Daryl. I know what you're all thinking. This Daryl must have been a pretty cool black guy with a fondness for Kangol hats. Well. You'd be wrong. He was white. I bet I know what you're thinking now. But....Samuel is......black. Yup. Correct. So.....how did Daryl????
He put shoe polish on his face.
If it wasn't so fucking ridiculous it'd be offensive. Honestly. What a catch.
And, finally. I went to Brighton over the course of the holidays also. We were getting ready to go out to a club night called Stick It On. The night itself isn't important for the purpose of the story. We're sitting around in the kitchen, drinking, chatting etc. One of the guys with us has a beautiful baby boy with a very nice lady and his robust sperm has managed to put another baby in her. Owing to this she is always at home with her feet up whilst he comes out with all his expensive digital toys. I was half listening to a story, half day dreaming when I heard someone say to him, "So, you haven't brought the Mother Bitch out with you tonight?". Hearing that I snapped out of my day dream and said to him, "Oh God. How far along is she now?". With that the room went deathly silent and everyone collapsed in to hysterics except him. Turns out they weren't talking about his girlfriend at all. They were talking about his digital SLR camera. Hoom.
From that quote alone I was a legend for the rest of the night. Other choice quotes which I feel I should really tell you about (I can not say that I said all of them but I will not reveal the speakers) are:
"A finger in the arse is always welcome"
"As I believe GlassJaw once said, I might just fuck you enough to love you"
"Oh my God you look like you should be in Kids or something"
And on that note I think I'll leave. I'm sure I'll have some ridiculous tale soon enough as it is my work Christmas party tomorrow. Yes that's right. You've not read the date wrong. Christmas party - 11th January. Good one. AND the theme is the Oscars ergo it is black tie so I had to suffer the indignity this evening of checking if my corset still fits (it does) in order to attempt to try and wear some sort of black tie esque outfit without actually looking like a complete toss piece. On the upside - free bar. It could get messy...