voile

I spent new years at the Savage Garden, we drank, and people-watched, and then drank some more. One of my friends met a man named Walter (I remember his name because he reminded me of an older version of one of those geeks in Pretty In Pink... but not John Cusack) and spent the rest of the night sucking his face off. I'm sure he was a nice person, but what did she expect to happen? She was visiting us, so it's not like she could have brought him home and oh so suavely fucked him on my sofa. And then we wanted to go home, and there I was, having to go and interrupt the suck-fest that had been going on for half and hour - and they weren't even doing it in a corner, out of the way. I felt like I was chaperoning a fifteen year old.

We waited for the Yonge St. shuttle bus for about two hours, as the crowds grew bigger, waiting for the same bus. But the busses just kept driving by, without stopping, and full of people. My visiting friend started puking after half an hour, and didn't really stop until we all got home, which was around 5 am.

Overall, it was a mediocre outing.

Peanuts, anyone?