creamygoodness

Well, a quick inventory:

- My neck is fucked, probably from headbanging.
- My ankle's fucked, most likely from skanking. Badly.
- My thumb is fucked, I think I might have landed on it awkwardly in the hotel room, inbetween singing Stephen Lynch to people and telling them to fuck off.
- My emergency bottle of Jack is completely gone.
- I appear to be approximately 120ish poorer.
- I have this on my camera.

So, all told, a good weekend then. Yes boys, girls and military-trained dolphins, this weekend was the SGUK Nottingham 'Lets all try not to get stabbed in the most violent city in England' extravaganza and much fun it was indeed.

It started off with me, Doplex, thenonstopdancer and barny catching a train up from St Pancras and, unfortunately, making something of an early start to the drinking. We made our way up there, only to find out that littleaardvark had actually been sitting behind us the entire time. Whoops.

So we eventually roll into Nottingham where we're met by the lovely foralways and Septembre who did a nifty job of organising in Rosscoe's absence, although in his favour he had done some fine groundwork beforehand. I met lots of lovely new people, like toneeblair, the_shine, walkswithbears and solipsistic as well as getting a chance to see lots of people I don't see nearly enough, like Sky, TheSnowDetective, Murakami and... oh for fuck's sakes, I can't mention everyone, there were far too many of you buggers there. If you were there, you were lovely. Except TheNonStopDancer. Seriously. Fuck THAT guy.

But yes, we started off actually enjoying the sun for once at The Waterfront outside, and it's a miracle SGUK didn't melt away to a sticky black patch as we sat there, anti-social shut-ins that we are. After that was TGI Fridays. The meal itself was somewhat unremarkably, although a certain someone decided to tell the staff that it was my birthday, resulting in me being forced to wear a balloon hat, standing ona c hair and being sung at, bastard

From there we went on to The Pit and the Pendulum, but left immediately because apparently accepting a legal form of ID is apparently too crazy an idea for some doormen. So we moved onto... uhh... some cocktail place. I don't remember the name, I DO remember that they sold some very cheap cocktails and tequila slammers, and me and Neil ended up goading a large part of the bar into singing along to Bon Jovi with our homoerotic antics. As you do.

And from there it was on to Rock City, which was actually a far better club night than I've been to for a while in London. I even got my very own fake birthday shout-out, thanks to Adthrawn. I was quite clearly much drunker than I thought, as I danced like a fucking idiot and drank too much. It was fun.

Anyhow, after that it was time for Team Travellodge to make their way back. Thanks to me actually having the foresight to pack the aforementioned emergency bottle of Jack, as well as Barny's munificence, it was all back to our room. I don't remember much, but I do remember alternately singing to people and telling them to fuck off. Which was nice of me. Anyhow, after trying in vain to get monstrooper to wake up and get out of our room and eventually just rolling him onto the floor and giving him a cushion, we got into bed about half 4. Eep.

Unsurprisingly sunday was rather more laid-back, featuring anotehr trip to The Waterfront, a rather nice fry-up and lots of non-alcoholic beverages before finally heading back home. Thanks all for a rather spiffy weekend