Lethargy, arguments and the evil of mixing drinks.

I don't seem to be able to get going today. It's gone 12 and I've done bugger all. I've not even got dressed. I think the nice old man who lives a couple of doors down was a bit disappointed when he popped by to give me a parcel that had gone to him by mistake. I don't like it when that happens. Why is it that, no matter how many days of the year you're up and raring to go at 7am, people will always drop by on that one day you think it'll be ok to spend an extra hour or two in bed and roam around in your dressing gown until noon?

Went out last night. The plan was to have a couple of civilised pints while watching the rugby. Well, if you call a 7 hour bender "civilised" I guess you could say that's what happened. We ended up going into town and drinking a mind boggling array of the best that grain alcohol has to offer. I'm feeling considerably better now than I did when I woke at 6:45 this morning, but I'm still not in tip top form. Jack Daniels, you've got a lot to answer for.

To top off this unexpected evening of revelry, Kate and Nige decided to have a barney of monumental proportions. I've never seen them do this before, though I have no doubts that it's happened. It was quite scary. Hopefully they've resolved their differences by now. I'll ring later to make sure. There may need to be a certain amount of banging heads together. I suppose that's one part of being in a relationship I don't miss.

Speaking of such things, I'm reasonably certain I could have pulled last night, were it not for the fact that such possibilities tend to turn me into a useless lump of flesh with neither backbone, nor the ability to speak in anything approaching an articulate manner. It's probably just as well, the young lady in question would have been between 6 and 8 years younger than me and quite possibly hasn't even stopped wearing school uniforms yet. While not strictly wrong, I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with that, regardless of how intriguing the notion might be.

Oh well. Better get a shower and sort my life out, I suppose.

Mr. Orinoco77

As per Mr. Dave's recommendation, I've created a Mr. Man character. I'm not certain about the hair, but he's generally pretty cool, I think.

Tch! Crazy Russians.

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McIavelli

While I was out perusing the shops and generally abusing my feet this afternoon, I happened to go into McDonalds for a bite to eat. I haven't done this since my mid teens, at a rough guess, and decided it was probably worth seeing if it was as bad as todays fast-food connoisseurs make out. In short, it is, however I did discover something extremely amusing in the grand interior design scheme the mad, red-haired clown inflicts on all his places of worship. Leering down at me from something eerily like one of those devotional portraits that people of faith hang around their houses for some reason (saints and the like, mostly; the virgin Mary, or St. Christopher, one of that crowd.) was the face of none other than Nicolo Machiavelli. On realising this, I accidentally inhaled a large mouthful of milkshake. That stuff's like really cold, flavoured porridge. It's not a good idea to breathe it in. Consequently I'm choking, giggling, going blue and being watched by 20 or so dumbass Wiganers, who haven't the slightest clue who Machiavelli is, or why it's so amusing that he's sitting up there on McDonald's wall. Life is occasionally very cool. I'd like to think the picture was put there by some subversive interior designer, for the benefit of those who would see the joke, but I suspect it's just one of those things.