taking fire

This one’s quite hyperlinked too. Power of the web an all.

friday
Social rollercoaster. After work the BG crowd were giggling like loons in The World for Alasdair Thomson’s cheerio night. Some good stories about people sleeping in bushes and going straight to work the next day. Alasdair gave a touching and spontaneous goodbye speech despite being hammered:

“Picture if you will, the mighty Blue Whale… imagine how it ejaculates, flooding the ocean with its salty love… this is how I feel about each and every one of you.”

After a few Caledonians veered off and up to Oloroso with Func to meet Claire and her buddies. Very nice it is too. Knocked down a few healthy flutes of ‘how much?’ Bolly with the kids and talked TitP.

From the posh heights descended to P’s and thenceforth Evol to meet everyone. On the way home we met some vague acquaintances of P’s including Theresa “not Lizzie’s sister” Harrison who charmed us with her Dublin banter. Crash.

saturday
Made it home for an afternoon’s ‘sleep’, ha ha. Come evening the combined fatigue and hangover introduced genuine doubts about doing anything strenuous – like hitting James C’s party in Glasgow. With some effort decided to live the spirit of Party Boy and meet Al in Buckieland.
My only chance for sleep – on the train – was barely trashed by some wee girl tap-dancing on the table but the micro-kips I pulled in worked some magic.

Me to taxi driver: “Hi, going to a bar called ‘Below 54′ please”
Taxi driver to control: “control, ken a place called, eh, Blow 76?”
Time taken to establish location of any fucking bar whatsoever: 5 minutes
Actual name of bar: ‘54 Below‘

So, waiting for Al. Got to bar with absolute concentration on the first beer to fight off nausea. Unbeknownst to me “Comedy” Al sends his new acquaintance over to ‘surprise’ me. Massive black Londoner claps me on the shoulder with a meat shovel and offers to buy me a drink. Sphincter tightening – and fighting the urge to dive under the pool table – I coolly mention Budvar. Other kids arrive and ho-ho-ing ensues. Several JDs move the defcon from ‘ill’ to ‘not ideal’.

Arrive at party alive but far from Party Boy. Goings on start civilised which is a relief. Some hayfever medicine solves all problems however. All efforts go into keeping the momentum going and chatting to everybody. Classic stuff ensues, though Al alas has to check out at a ‘reasonable’ hour. Much hilarity and dancing later the crash comes at 10am-ish.

sunday
Doze like a junkie marsupial whacked out on wogga-wogga juice until past 6. Drift wild-eyed onto the train home recklessly believing a bottle of red wine would be beneficial. Home and blissful crash. Top one.