Friday, January 19, 2007


So thanks to a delightfully intoxicating combination of white Bacardi, Lime Toppur (a lime flavored soda water to you non-Icelanders) and lime wedges, I have so completely shattered the whole drinking-every-other-weekend resolution. But. And this is a big but, like Jay-lo big. Beyonce big.

I’m still going to help the Embles paint her new place tomorrow. I just made the wise decision to not take any of my cards, or any cash for that matter, when I stumble downtown. This means I’ll tire out around 3, go home, sleep to noon, and not suffer any undo nastiness.

In theory.

But then again, evolution is just a theory, and I’m pretty sure of that.

Just seems a shame to waste a nice buzz on Mythbusters and the interweb.

So, as alcoholics drink alone, and My Boo just left, I’ll keep this entry short and bugger of to find someone to bugger.

More than likely I’ll hate myself in the morning. Not due to any theoretical buggery, but due to guilt and a mild hangover.

But honestly! What are you supposed to do in a town where the only place flirtation (and I am flirty as all hell at the mo) is allowed is a pub? A place where flirting sober is basically the equivalent of sexual predation?

Just what would you do gentle blogodytes?

What would you do?

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