Well
yesterday seemed to pass in a
confused alcoholic blur of
chilled monkeys.
sparklers and a general
state of happiness.
I woke up mid-day Saturday regretting the vast amounts of beer I'd drunk the night before, with vague memories flashing through my head of at some point having gone to see a Black Sabbath tribute band, with the consequence that my night's sleep had been filled with disturbing dreams about Ozzy. Putting all that behind me, my hungover head then started telling me "You have to get up, there's an E2 meet in a couple of hours". So, to all those who were there, my apologies for being slightly dazed and confused.
I made it to the pub, got myself a pint of Stella, and sat down with the guys who were already there. It wasn't long before I was being pestered to let the monkey out of the bag, so I brought him out to sit on the table and chill for a while. Soon more people were arriving and the poor thing was being subjected to all sorts of indignities -- but it never managed to lose the appearance of being mildly under the influence of narcotics.
A couple of pints later and we went onwards to the J D Wetherspoon pub up the road, due to the management at The George being thoughtless enough to book a private function at their pub without checking E2 first in case we'd decided to meet there. The remaining stragglers turned up, the chatter moved on to the fascinating subject of alcohol-infused Jaffa Cakes, so ever one to put practice over theory I nipped over the road to a ridiculously expensive Soho convenience store and bought a couple of packets of the soft orangey delights. Soon we were making our very own lethal but lovely concoctions (just what IS Aftershock anyway?).
Eventually tummies started rumbling and we went searching for food. First of all we delighted the tourists by lighting up sparklers on the street outside the pub. Extraordinarily, despite everyone's extremely pissed state, nobody lost an eye or suffered from serious burns at all. The Gods smiled upon us that night. After a brief discussion about what sort of food we somehow ended up at Pizza Hut, after which we seemed to all gradually drift off towards various tube stations and on our ways home.
I've done it twice now, and it just keeps getting better and better.