Day Sixty Seven: I'm back!

...a day later than I promised, but after having about 50 million drunken conversations about Christmas and New Year which were essentially that "yeah, mine was pretty okay. Yours? Okay, yeah? Okay then." I figured that no-one really wants to read me trying to stretch out Christmas and New Years over 250 words. I mean, it was pretty good, yeah, but not particularly exciting.

With two exceptions.

The first was a major New Years Eve party. I'd spent the last year caretaking my sisters New Years Eve party, which consisted of Matt and me drinking two cases of beer, confiscating some booze that we liked the look of and booting one kid out because we knew his older brother and thought he was a wanker. Or it was the actual older brother. I don't know, it was over a year ago and I was pretty drunk.

So, I'd resolved with Matt that we were going to get totally drunk and messed up, and not hang around fifteen year-olds. Not ones that I was related to, anyway. After preparing a horrifying and illegal quantity of booze, and drinking half a bottle of Jack Daniels, we travelled to a house party of my mates, where people were sitting around, talking quietly and playing video games. AND NOT DRINKING.

Obviously we both felt that this was unacceptable, so we drank half our bottle of vodka in around ten minutes before corralling everyone in the room to play drinking games with us and stop playing Mario and Sonic go to the Olympic Games. It worked, because the rest of that evening is a blurry mess of embarrassing conversations, swearing, amusing hats and far, far too much further drinking. I definitly remember the cannabis laced vodka that was brought out later on, however, as I'm pretty sure that was the thing that gave me a hangover for two days afterwards. Oh, and sending a text to half my phonebook which reads: "New years day? More like new years gay." at four in the fucking morning. If you didn't get one, it's probably because I hate you. Or love you, insofar as your opinion on drunken early morning texts goes.

The second was a night out just last week, on Tuesday. Me and Matt had settled in for a bit of Dazed and Confused, a film which neither of us had seen in ages and which we soundly agreed was completely awesome, and we were about half way through and drinking beer when we got the call to go up to town for further drinking, and a pub quiz.

(Did I mention that it had snowed the night before? That is important. Bear it in mind, because it will be relevant later. There may be a quiz.)

So, finish film and beer, grab taxi and we're in town. Many beers later, me Matt and my buddy Chuggi are wandering home through the snow and doing associated drunk thing, like having a wee in the snow, doing backflips into the snow, and generally frolicing like massive drunken gaylords.

(A thought occurs. At no point did we backflip into snow that had been peed on. As far as I know.)

At any rate, at some point I decided it would be hilarious to steal Chuggi's hat, and then drag it through the snow so as to make it cold and wet. I think he'd said offhand that it was keeping his head nice and warm, so this was the sort of idea that makes the drunk person who takes control of my body when I've had a beer jump up and down with glee. Nabbing the hat, I had to lean over, while running to drag it in the snow. While I was on the concrete pavement. Which was covered with ice.

And so that's why my hand looks like I've attempted to grill it quite incompetantly. This also provides a more insightful answer to those of you who have already had the short explanation: "I fell over, and really well too."

Hey, will you look at that, I did manage to stretch out the holidays for a little while there. Woo yay. I'll be back tomorrow, updating away reguarly once again. And you know, it actually feels good to be back doing this.

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Now playing: Tenacious D / Karate