Saturday, 3 October 2009

On Saturday I wake from three days grace, with a possible case of Swines. Wander into the kitchen, take three brightly coloured tablets from a mother of pearl pill box that I find in my apartment, scrape and consume some burn cheese from the sandwich toaster, and slowly carry on with life.

During the week I am subjected to a tour of Bristol's gay 'Village', by a team of 'scene famous' butch lesbians. Where I choose a stance, near the bar, that suggests I am an unreasonable force, and ignore at those who I have deemed socially unacceptable. Read, everyone. I refuse to purchase a single drink. Yet, due to my boyish good looks, and out of reach attitude, end up consuming the following :

  • Two double Gin and Tonics, three singles.
  • Six red, cherry shots
  • One Mexican beer
  • Two pints of cider (mine-swept from the bar)
  • and two double vodkas with soda.

I also receive free entry to two clubs, a VIP access coupon with a balding man's telephone number, a wink from a bearded transvestite, and a scalding hangover.


Tim in the City of Angles said...

serves you right, you stuck up little shit. you must be a writer, Toughie. you certainly behave like one. for instance, it's just gone 15:00 and I'm on my 5th scotch, looking forward to an afternoon of pounding prose which will ultimately lead to a growing sense of despair and throwing most of it away... sober, I'd throw all of it away, so there's that.

SpiritMountainGuy said...

With that mix, no wonder the hangover! Hope you've recovered to tell us more of your escapades? Now I'm off to bed. Work in the morning! - V.