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"Stupid Party"

I went to a party on Friday night in party of Leeds that I don't know. We got a crate of Stella from an off licence and carried it to where one of my mates thought the party was. So we got there but it was the wrong street name. Sooo we knocked on some doors and asked for directions, but these west Leeds middle class goons didnt treat a gang of young men with a crate of Stella too kindly and gave us totally wrong directions.

Then, the heavens opened and it began to hail, thunder and lighting. We found the house after falling down a flight of stairs and breaking my legs twice. It wasnt exactly a party, it was a richboy gathering, he had a jukebox, the sissy rich boy.

So myself and my non rich mates took over his table tennis table, garage and pool, whilst drinking wife beater juice (Stella). It was good until some guy (Perhaps a hobo) stumbled in and broke the speakers. Then someone ordered a takeaway and that cost £40, and nobody paid up, so the delivery guy stood in the hall for an hour, drinking stella.

We then stood in the garage, talking about the meaning of life and being "deep" in a drunk way where it all makes sense. We then walked home in the rain, made myself some food and fell asleep before eating it.

I need a haircut, I look like a roughed up heterosexual Hugh Grant.

That was funny. LOL

shexi

I went to a party on Friday night in party of Leeds that I don't know. We got a crate of Stella from an off licence and carried it to where one of my mates thought the party was. So we got there but it was the wrong street name. Sooo we knocked on some doors and asked for directions, but these west Leeds middle class goons didnt treat a gang of young men with a crate of Stella too kindly and gave us totally wrong directions.

Then, the heavens opened and it began to hail, thunder and lighting. We found the house after falling down a flight of stairs and breaking my legs twice. It wasnt exactly a party, it was a richboy gathering, he had a jukebox, the sissy rich boy.

So myself and my non rich mates took over his table tennis table, garage and pool, whilst drinking wife beater juice (Stella). It was good until some guy (Perhaps a hobo) stumbled in and broke the speakers. Then someone ordered a takeaway and that cost £40, and nobody paid up, so the delivery guy stood in the hall for an hour, drinking stella.

We then stood in the garage, talking about the meaning of life and being "deep" in a drunk way where it all makes sense. We then walked home in the rain, made myself some food and fell asleep before eating it.

I need a haircut, I look like a roughed up heterosexual Hugh Grant.