Saturday, October 21, 2006

Take Me Out

Long time since I last updated, lots of stuff has gone on. Everyone knows about my birthday shame -- too many cocktails, some terrible dancing, getting asked to leave a bar, and then puking all over my carpet -- the less said about that the better.

Anyway, being in a predominantly female course at uni has caused the heterosexual males to bond together. The four of us have become inseperable around the university, and it was only a matter of time before we went out for a proper boy's night out. So last night, we got together, put on our finery and set off for a night on the town. The original plan was to head to the student union for 'Friday Steak Night' - I say original plan because by the time we got there, the bastards had run out of steak! What the hell is that? Steak night without steak, only in England could this happen. Undeterred we soldiered down the street to a dodgy Chinese buffet and proceeded to gorge on Sweet & Sour Chicken, and Beef in Black Bean Sauce. It was nice, but entirely unsatisfying when I was expecting steak -- MSG just doesn't do what 8ozs of beef does (you heard it here first.)

From the unsatisfying Chinese we wandered to the poshest bar we could find, The London Carriage Works, scene of the now infamous absinthe bender. When we arrived, we did whatever you'd expect 4 entirely classless individuals would do when they go to a really nice bar. We ordered snifters of brandy and a cigar, and took photos of each other sloshing it around and puffing on the cigar. How manly is that? For the record, the brandy was supposed to taste like gingerbread and spicy vanilla. In actual fact, it tasted like burning. I thought I was going to die, my throat was on fire, I think next time, I'll ask for a snifter of coke instead.

Feeling totally out of our league, I paid the $85 bill (8 drinks and a cigar, scandalous), and we went to where we felt a little more at home, cheesey student bars!



I didn't really drink, so I managed to survive the night without getting booted out, laying on the floor, or puking on the carpet. 26 really isn't that bad afterall.

I'll have to try and update more frequently, but my life is dead boring, and who but Steve has the time to sit and wax poetic on sports, music, and politics?
I hope this finds everone well --
Peace Out kids,

xx