What's a girl to do on a Monday night, when she has no work the next day?
Why, ring around her friends, convince them to phone in sick at work, go to the dirtiest club she can find and get absolutely rat-arsed, of course.
This was my predicament on Monday. Bored, with nowhere to go, the lovely Voodoo_charity came to my rescue. Along with a couple of boys we headed into town (with a little help from a pint of cider and white beer).
There we found ourselves amongst a cloned gang of teens in a bar named Escobar. Girls in 80's leggings under puffy hip-widening skirts and fringes over eyes, boys in fertility reducing tight jeans and similar fringes over eyes, we wailed 'where have all the skater kids gone?'.
A J.D or three later, we meandered down to the club which we had (for particular reason), not set foot in for four years. Here, once again, we found more of the aforementioned clones dancing to similary cloned music in a strikingly similar dance fashion.
Voodoo and I had a little bop to Disturbed, whilst being protected by impressively large males from unimpressive little boys who were throwing themselves around in an uncouth display of stupidness.
The clones eventually became a tad boring, so we removed ourselves to an intimate little bar area with a cute barmaid and lots of sambucca.
Numerous bouts of Sambucca/J.D/other shot-downing later, I found myself ska-ing to Queens 'We are the champions' and finding myself really quite amusing. Voodoo joined me in an impressive rendition on Bon Jovi's 'Living On A Prayer', which near-on emptied the room, before rocking out to various 80's remixes.
I think it is fair to say we were fairly tipsy at this point.
Other highlights of the evening were an 'almost fight' with a group of boys, chips, a walk home and a wrestle with the boy in the bathroom (which I lost) and vomit.
These events have led me to deduce that I cannot hold my drink, should stay away from Sambucca, am probably a bad influence on my friends and should be kept away from dirty clubs with one-eyed clones.
Today, I have suffered for my sins.
Tommorrow I GO SEE THE FOO FIGHTERS ACOUSTIC GIG IN LONDON!!!! Just try and stop me from licking those lovely men.
Why, ring around her friends, convince them to phone in sick at work, go to the dirtiest club she can find and get absolutely rat-arsed, of course.
This was my predicament on Monday. Bored, with nowhere to go, the lovely Voodoo_charity came to my rescue. Along with a couple of boys we headed into town (with a little help from a pint of cider and white beer).
There we found ourselves amongst a cloned gang of teens in a bar named Escobar. Girls in 80's leggings under puffy hip-widening skirts and fringes over eyes, boys in fertility reducing tight jeans and similar fringes over eyes, we wailed 'where have all the skater kids gone?'.
A J.D or three later, we meandered down to the club which we had (for particular reason), not set foot in for four years. Here, once again, we found more of the aforementioned clones dancing to similary cloned music in a strikingly similar dance fashion.
Voodoo and I had a little bop to Disturbed, whilst being protected by impressively large males from unimpressive little boys who were throwing themselves around in an uncouth display of stupidness.
The clones eventually became a tad boring, so we removed ourselves to an intimate little bar area with a cute barmaid and lots of sambucca.
Numerous bouts of Sambucca/J.D/other shot-downing later, I found myself ska-ing to Queens 'We are the champions' and finding myself really quite amusing. Voodoo joined me in an impressive rendition on Bon Jovi's 'Living On A Prayer', which near-on emptied the room, before rocking out to various 80's remixes.
I think it is fair to say we were fairly tipsy at this point.
Other highlights of the evening were an 'almost fight' with a group of boys, chips, a walk home and a wrestle with the boy in the bathroom (which I lost) and vomit.
These events have led me to deduce that I cannot hold my drink, should stay away from Sambucca, am probably a bad influence on my friends and should be kept away from dirty clubs with one-eyed clones.
Today, I have suffered for my sins.
Tommorrow I GO SEE THE FOO FIGHTERS ACOUSTIC GIG IN LONDON!!!! Just try and stop me from licking those lovely men.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
complicity:
I just hope Dave is prepared....
the_fox:
Sambucca tastes like licorice poo. Is this not reason enough to stay away? 