Saturday, 7 March 2009

Having being told that I am not eating properly by my oh so caring house mates I have tried to make it more public when I am cooking. There are many ways to achieve this my favorite so far has to be cooking using the dirty oven which causes the room to fill with smoke.

This leads nicely into the story of last night. Because before I went out I ate a yoghurt. This made me feel very sick, and pretty much halted any fun.

I returned home yesterday from the studios and of course instead of eating, checked facebook, and realised I had a message saying "Fancy coming out tonight"? Obviously not one to buckle under peer pressure I replied, and three hours later ended up in Old Market St.

Interesting Relative Fact: Usually I piece together my nights by reading my text messages, or asking fellow cohorts. However thanks to the sicky yoghurt I don't have to as I didn't really drink much.

Much of the night was spent looking at the types of weirdos that this gay bar/club/converted old bank (I worked this out whilst sitting at a table and looking blankly at the re-enforced ceiling and doors and realising I was in fact sitting in an old vault). The types of people can be categorised into the following groups:

a) Fat, shaved lesbians who like to eat faces on the dance floor. Much like the girl with the red checked hat, checked white shirt and a fat girl stuck to her face.

b) Deformed wanna-be muscle boys, like the guy with the most fucked up biceps. Which we small, thin and bunched up at the top.

c) Random 67 year old man. Who was actually just a pervert, like the rest of us. But who was there alone, in a sweater, with a beard and glasses. I'm sure I can find a photo.

and of course

d) token blackman who was referred to as Coolieo. Who later tried to rape Welshie in the toilets, which in hindsight was actually quite amusing, although I'm pretty sure I broke the urinal by standing on it, and Welshie is probably now traumertised.

I say most of the night was taken up by categorising the clientele, in fact all of it was.

Still for a random night out, and probably my last for a little whilst (as once again I have more work to do) it was rather entertaining.

Sick count 0.


Tim in the City of Angles said...

aren't there any, you know, "just guys" in Liverpool? i can only claim to be aware of two young men in that city: you and another very cute fellow who has a fine, toned body and likes to eat women's panties while they trod on his balls in spike heels.

so, if we draw a line between you (normal) and the panties boy (um... adventurous) there's quite a lot of room to maneuver, so i guess the jury is still out.

Tim in the City of Angles said...

Liverpool? What was I thinking?

abristolnovella said...

haha i didnt like to say