Yesterday was delicious, although I think there should be a rule where if you haven't slept, it's still the same day. And so today was delicious. Although I think I slept maybe about 2 hours, but it's hard to tell- I might just have drunkenly passed out for 2 hours and does that count as sleep? Does it matter? Probably not, shhh. I was not getting drunk yesterday, I was not drinking at all. Well, maybe I was going to have one. Or two. And I didn't go that far off; according to my food diary (OH YES), I had 5 vodka-diet-cokes (I'm convinced the bastards gave me full fat coke for at least one of them, though. I usually demand to see them press the DIET button but I'm trying to pretend I'm not a freak. Or I was doing yesterday, anyway). And then a fair amount of a bottle of vodka. And a glass or so of Corkies. So that's only really... 7 drinks. Almost what I said I'd have, because 7 is basically 4 because 4 is more than half of 7, see. And in the grand scheme of things, what is 2 drinks, between friends?
For one so sane, Smelliott is a terrible influence over me. If she hadn't have been born, we would not have been celebrating. And had we not been celebrating that we would not have ignored by a MILLION MEN in a bar, who were there for the England match. And then I would not have gotten so drunk. Not that I'm complaining, it was a very, very delicious day after all. I even quite liked being ignored, I'm not at all used to it and so it was INTERESTING. Seriously. And it gave us an opportunity to get into the match, actually into it (we shouted the words 'fucking referee! What the fuck, you fucking cunt!' and so therefore are now professional pundits) and to experience GREAT EMOTIONS and a testosterone supernova.
It's all gets to be a bit of a blur after the match. I remember Lidl and Sainsbury's and going to Central Park to play on the swings. But you'll NEVER GUESS what those bastards in Pitwood House have done! Go on, GUESS. There are no swings in Central Park! And so I littered and then weed in a bush- take that, council! Then we were all in Gay Rob's (I know Gay isn't necessarily a title and it's not like I need to differentiate between any other Robs, but I can't think of him without it. It would be like just calling Momma Ginge, Ginge) and he was playing us some of his songs (I detest how talented he is) and then I was throwing up in McDonald's and, forgive me for saying it, really quite enjoying the density and that of my vom' and thinking that I should eat McDonald's more often. And it was about midnight.
See. Very, very delicious. It would have been very, very, VERY delicious if not for those Scunthorpe bureaucrats but I'M NOT BITTER.
The thing is though, staying at Gay Rob's was all very impromptu and I didn't have any meds, which is really unlike me. I'm actually quite organised, in my bag at the moment (for example) I have my sunglasses, purse, phone, keys, passport (you never know), food diary, a purple felt tip (I only write in felt tips), a red felt tip (in case the purple runs out), a Christmas card, sun lotion, hair grips, a comb, dry shampoo, a purple tampon, a yellow tampon, a green tampon, a johnny, Aqua Ban, Pro-Plus, a medicine cup (I stole 23 when I was in hospital. I crippled the NHS), pressed powder and some bits of rubbish. EVERY EVENTUALITY, apart from one where I might not go home for a night. I didn't even have any Valium on me which is very, VERY unlike me. So when my alcohol coma wore off at about 3 this morning, my mind was going a million miles an hour and it was all very loud and anxiety-licious. So I laid there in bed with Smelliott and Gay Rob, trying to be logical and after about an hour thought FUKDIS.
So I left. I didn't quite think through the walk home, but I stumbled out at 4 this morning, with tousled hair, a creased dress and smeared make-up. The WALK OF SHAME. We've all done it, left a one night stand and walked out in yesterdays clothes. Whilst everybody watches and gives you wry nods. But at 4am? What a waste of a good look- too few people about. I wanted to sit down with the people I did see though, and hold their hands and tell them that I'd actually spent the last few hours in bed with a gay man and a straight lady. But maybe that would have made the walk even more shameful. Still, at least I got a work out, I stumbled out of Gay Rob's at 4 and into the House of Ginge at half 5. And it got my vodka poo going. Mmm! :)
And so, you know, today is very delicious, too.