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I feel really crap.
I was saying last night how to not mix drinks…but I did. What a blooming idiot I am. Hold on, off to be sick. Right, I spent the last ten minutes hurling an orange gunk down the loo but I feel a bit better. (How come there are always bits of carrot? I can’t remember the last time I ate carrot!)
So, last night… or what I can remember of it, was moderately good. It began slowly like any house party does with awkward quietness and people whispering “Who’s that?” and suchlike. This mood was soon changed when a few girls began downing breezers and singing very loudly. The girl who’s party it was went about winking at people and licking her lips as well as flashing her knickers. Cool eh.
I just went to throw up again, this time it was tea-coloured and tasted of paracetamol. I think I am empty now!
So after a good few hours of mingling and drinking purely alcopops (I was been sensible and didn’t want a killer hangover…like I have now) things took a turn for the worse. Most people were drunk and the spirits were high and then KAPOW, this girl falls and dislocates her knee. Being one of the few soberish people at this point I looked after her and rang her parents to take her home and stuff. Sometimes it is just funny to sit and observe drunk people, they are like a disorganised circus act on speed. There girls staggered into the kitchen, shakily obtained a cup from the cupboard and poured half a bottle of Archers in the cup and the other half on her hand, the floor and anyone within a 5 metre radius of her.
At about 11 the girl who’s party it was boyfriend came, and brought a few of his mates. They were all 19, except one of them who was immensely proud of the fact he was 21. Now it seems to me that if you are a 21 year old at a party full of 16 and some 17 year olds, you must be SO cool. It is the basic equivalent of me going to a jelly & ice cream party. Anyway, all of these guys were dressed in knitwear and made them look like feature models for a rambling magazine. They had a real “I live in my parents basement” air about them.
I stole some of their lager because I didn’t like the look of them and they kept trying to inform me that the lager was screw cap when blatantly it had to be opened with a bottle opener. I told them, as sincerely as I could, to fook off.
I kept on drinking, my mate cut his hand on a bottle and bled all over the furnature. Someone smashed those little windows you have on internal doors my slamming the door shut too hard, someone was sick on the stairs and the car. The girl who I went to the cinema with wasn’t at the party.. so I took an interest in her mate instead. Probably a bad idea when she finds out but I had fun and that’s all that matters.
I don’t know what happened next but my mate who cut his hand was punching one of the knitwear models and the others were pulling him off and hitting him. So, deciding I WAS the toughest man in the world I jumped in and started blindly punching people in a fit of rage combined with ‘I forgot to tape P.O.W’ It worked though, my mate is rather tough and our blind punching was lucky and they crept cowering away with taunts of their knitwear being better than ours..or something
About 1 the girl’s parents got back and everyone jumped into taxis or lifts and went home, except a few others and me who’s taxi hadn’t arrived yet. Her dad began shouting at everything in sight, including lamps and the odd piece of knitwear. He went crazy and he pushed me, gimp. I would have pushed him back but I don’t want to be forever known as “the guy who hit Katie’s dad”
We got a taxi and ended up at my mate John’s house.. but his band were playing a gig somewhere and they weren’t back yet. So we waited in his garage and smoked weed until he came back. We went into his house, it IS absolutely huge and someone spilt lager on the pool table. We found this electric shocker thing that emits a large (Not that large, maybe 6v) electric pulse and we were shocking our arms and stuff, then someone decided to put his on his penis and spent the following ten minutes writhing in pain on the floor.
I jumped in a taxi with a few others at about half past 3 and then, somehow, found my way home. I threw up for about half an hour and fell asleep. This morning I awoke with my mouth tasting of vomit, ash and knitwear and proceeded to spend the next 2 hours hurling up and writing this in the intervals.
Now my Dad is frying me up a nice bacon sandwich, so things are looking up!
I was saying last night how to not mix drinks…but I did. What a blooming idiot I am. Hold on, off to be sick. Right, I spent the last ten minutes hurling an orange gunk down the loo but I feel a bit better. (How come there are always bits of carrot? I can’t remember the last time I ate carrot!)
So, last night… or what I can remember of it, was moderately good. It began slowly like any house party does with awkward quietness and people whispering “Who’s that?” and suchlike. This mood was soon changed when a few girls began downing breezers and singing very loudly. The girl who’s party it was went about winking at people and licking her lips as well as flashing her knickers. Cool eh.
I just went to throw up again, this time it was tea-coloured and tasted of paracetamol. I think I am empty now!
So after a good few hours of mingling and drinking purely alcopops (I was been sensible and didn’t want a killer hangover…like I have now) things took a turn for the worse. Most people were drunk and the spirits were high and then KAPOW, this girl falls and dislocates her knee. Being one of the few soberish people at this point I looked after her and rang her parents to take her home and stuff. Sometimes it is just funny to sit and observe drunk people, they are like a disorganised circus act on speed. There girls staggered into the kitchen, shakily obtained a cup from the cupboard and poured half a bottle of Archers in the cup and the other half on her hand, the floor and anyone within a 5 metre radius of her.
At about 11 the girl who’s party it was boyfriend came, and brought a few of his mates. They were all 19, except one of them who was immensely proud of the fact he was 21. Now it seems to me that if you are a 21 year old at a party full of 16 and some 17 year olds, you must be SO cool. It is the basic equivalent of me going to a jelly & ice cream party. Anyway, all of these guys were dressed in knitwear and made them look like feature models for a rambling magazine. They had a real “I live in my parents basement” air about them.
I stole some of their lager because I didn’t like the look of them and they kept trying to inform me that the lager was screw cap when blatantly it had to be opened with a bottle opener. I told them, as sincerely as I could, to fook off.
I kept on drinking, my mate cut his hand on a bottle and bled all over the furnature. Someone smashed those little windows you have on internal doors my slamming the door shut too hard, someone was sick on the stairs and the car. The girl who I went to the cinema with wasn’t at the party.. so I took an interest in her mate instead. Probably a bad idea when she finds out but I had fun and that’s all that matters.
I don’t know what happened next but my mate who cut his hand was punching one of the knitwear models and the others were pulling him off and hitting him. So, deciding I WAS the toughest man in the world I jumped in and started blindly punching people in a fit of rage combined with ‘I forgot to tape P.O.W’ It worked though, my mate is rather tough and our blind punching was lucky and they crept cowering away with taunts of their knitwear being better than ours..or something
About 1 the girl’s parents got back and everyone jumped into taxis or lifts and went home, except a few others and me who’s taxi hadn’t arrived yet. Her dad began shouting at everything in sight, including lamps and the odd piece of knitwear. He went crazy and he pushed me, gimp. I would have pushed him back but I don’t want to be forever known as “the guy who hit Katie’s dad”
We got a taxi and ended up at my mate John’s house.. but his band were playing a gig somewhere and they weren’t back yet. So we waited in his garage and smoked weed until he came back. We went into his house, it IS absolutely huge and someone spilt lager on the pool table. We found this electric shocker thing that emits a large (Not that large, maybe 6v) electric pulse and we were shocking our arms and stuff, then someone decided to put his on his penis and spent the following ten minutes writhing in pain on the floor.
I jumped in a taxi with a few others at about half past 3 and then, somehow, found my way home. I threw up for about half an hour and fell asleep. This morning I awoke with my mouth tasting of vomit, ash and knitwear and proceeded to spend the next 2 hours hurling up and writing this in the intervals.
Now my Dad is frying me up a nice bacon sandwich, so things are looking up!
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Kyz, you look how you feel :P
They ALWAYS ride mopeds.
Matt's getting one for christmas...
Matt's getting one for christmas...
Besides flamboyant homosexuals who may or may not ride mopeds.
Fabio, the homosexual living over the road from me?
Exactly, and who wants to live in milan?
Knitwear is all the rage in milan...
The Bacon sandwich helped, feeling better and realising knitwear is bad.
I think the wool product men showed him it..
Now there's a trick.
But how are you in yourself?
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