October 21, 2005
The Kiwi was going to Kill me…
The Weekend has started early – it was one of those don’t remember jack shit evenings on Wednesday – my body trying to drive itself on despite no oil in the tank – pouring more and more vodka down my throat in the mistaken belief that this would help – really food and sleep was needed – but my judgement can be some what fuzzy in such situations.
My memory of the evening shuts off after midnight - like a video recorder that cancels while taping Cursed because it knows the film is absolute dog shit and is saving you the trouble of actually watching – my memory was obviously storing data up to a point and then decided it already knew the ending to this particular evenings tale and that all subsequent events were simply not worth keeping on file due to their erratic, foolish, noisy, nature.
I awoke to find evidence of my antics that helped piece together the story memory refused to capture:
•Horrible baked in an oven head.
•3 hours late for work.
•a call list on my mobile from people I have not spoken too for very long time – including my brother in Oz who I apparently woke at an ungodly hour to call him a “cunty biscuit” and “a shitty beagle”
•Big bump on forehead, many credit card bar bill receipts and no money
•Evidence of an unfortunate upchucking toilet incident
•Very, Very Angry girl-friend
Yuni also had to intervene to stop me getting killed by a giant Kiwi man who was twice my size, very drunk and not amused by my smart-alec-cheeky fuckwit antics – he was a monster apparently:
“he looked like he was going to tear off your head at one point – these people are dangerous”
how could anyone want to hurt me? I’m the personification of natural English fucking charm God Damn it!
“not when you’re that drunk, baby, you are just annoying and hard to control”
She said getting me home and looking after me was like looking after rampaging baby elephant.
We elected to stay in bed all day and order pizza for breakfast
Later on there were $25,000 home stereo systems to marvel at, Lebanese restaurants and 18 year old whisky with Glen in the title.
Tonight is a 70’s 80’s theme at the bar – Yuni is auctioning cocktails – I’m going as Tony Montana from Scarface
Coz apparently I dress like him anyway.
Spo | October 21, 2005
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