The time has come...

for me to blog about the bizarre events of a drunken last friday. Unfortunately, Jems has beaten me to it (that outrageous filthy skank) and has probably revealed all the best bits, so it is up to me to conjure up a poor imitation of the blog she has already written on the subject - which is, regrettably, hilarious.

Also, she seems to remember a great deal more than me.

At first, all I could really recall was cracking open the tequila and rum, fuzzy details of laughter and a toilet bowl, then waking up. However over the week, details are slowly returning to me. And much like a previously-comatose-recently-recovered detective trying to recall details from her own life after being run over by a large bus for the elderly, I shall attempt to put them into some sort of order.

8.30ish: We open the tequila. And some amaretto. And beers. And some extremely random fruit juice mixers. And rum. We commence drinking.

9ish?: There is a lot of laughing. A lot. Ewan goes to fetch some cards - he is more sober than the rest of us and thinks we should play a card game. The cards have naked ladies on them.

Later: Ewan and Jems exit the room. I hear a lot of shouting - something to to with 'Have you seen Ewans HUGE cock?!'. Jems insists she said clock, ('CLOCK with an L!') I was not so sure... until the morning when I saw it. He does indeed have a bloody huge clock. Kudos.

Even later?: Ewan brings in an orange snake. It is his pet. I am so drunk at this point that this does not even seem bizarre - it is in fact, regular. Mundane. And also, I forget to be scared. I touch the snake - it is warm and squishy! Are snakes meant to be like that? I ponder aloud at the health of Ewans snake.

Could have been any time: 28 days later is on. BJ annoyingly tries to explain the plot, but he is the drunkest and his explanation makes very little sense. He also talks at length about how 'nice' everything is - this night, us, him, our drunken togetherness, the film, nipples, Ewans curtains...

Sometime after midnight: The boys decide we should take a walk through the dark streets of WB to 'clear our heads'. We get outiside... the boys are not wearing tops. I am not wearing shoes. The night is very cold. We take a walk.

1-3AM: General fuzziness... more laughter. BJ lies spread-eagled across Ewans compost heap outside, groaning. I laugh at him. Then I retire to the bathroom and lie by the toilet groaning. At some point, me and Jems collapse in Ewans bed. A few hours later, we wake up.


The end (I think..)


Disclaimer: I'm actually quite a nice person really. I don't do this sort of thing a lot. But I do reserve my right to fulfil the stereotype of drunken british binge bitch-wino occasionally - after all, the rest of Europe need something to tut about while they make clocks and nod approvingly at their high standards of education and superior foodstuffs.

FurtherDisclaimer: I love the rest of Europe. Exept that Mario guy from the pool in that campsite in France - Mario, if your reading this, go away no one likes you. And those were not real speedos.


I am off to the lake district with Jems tomorrow for more hilariarse antics (in our heads anyway) so shall not be blogging for a while. However, you are never far from my mind. Whoever you are.
Au revoir.