Then there was that wedding thing. Fortunately I was working so I missed the whole tiresome event and instead earned a shit-ton of money. I have a care-less attitude about many things, but Jesus was that thing over-hyped. My sisters actually camped overnight so that they could secure a good spot on the route they drove down. I'm so ashamed to share genetic material with people who would do that. The new South Park does a lovely job taking the piss out of it – you should definitely watch it. Link here.
In other news, for the first time in a long time I've actually done summink! 'Citing! Some of you will know him, the rest of you should count you blessings that you don't, but me mate, Ed, came over yesterday and we had ourselves a little jolly in Salisbury.
It's been a long time since I've been that drunk and obviously I can remember very little of it – as is tradition. Started out in the local Weatherspoons. For those of you who aren't familiar, Weatherspoons is a pub chain in the UK known for being a bit scummy but, more importantly, cheap. I spent most of the time there being bullied by my company for being different *read: awesome* – although I happen to know it's actually because they're threatened by my grace and intellect and couldn't think of a better way to vent their frustration. From there we went to some random bar, the details of which are irrelevant. Here are just a few of the things that happened. At some point I was caught dribbling on the bar. I'm not sure why, but anecdotal evidence suggests it may have been a reaction to tequila. I also tried, and failed, to hook up with a girl from work – I wish I could say the dribbling happened first so I could use that as an excuse for my failure, but I don't think it did. At another stage Ed was dancing with this same girl. I saw this happening and obviously it made me angry, so like a child having a tantrum I stormed over and cut in. You may assume I did this so I could dance with the girl. No. Apparently I wanted a tender moment with Edward. A few things going on there for his absent girlfriend to be worried about. Back at my house I had set up an air-bed for Edward to sleep on. He went to the bathroom and by the time he came back I was lying on the air-bed and his sleeping bag was on my bed. Why? Apparently because, “You're a guest; you deserve maximum comfort!”
It was a very messy night, and once again I escaped serious injury, which I'm surprised about for two reasons. 1) Some of you may have noticed, but I can be a bit of a dick when I've been drinking, and I'm long overdue for a karmic injury of some kind. And 2) There's a lot of stab-happy people in my town. A guy in a wheelchair got his head kicked in the other day by some of the many lunatics I share this dump with. Proof. It's only a matter of time until I go drinking, come accross one of these people, they mispronounce something, I helpfully point out their ignorance and wake up in hospital. Nonetheless, I'm still here and live to drink another day.
In half-marathon news, I still haven't made a decision about which charity to support for me half marathon. I think it's gotta be the spastics, but we'll see. Suggestions still welcome.
Hope all's good with you all. If not, then at least I hope things could be worse.
Later, idiots.
Joe
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