I need a handbrake
Wednesday.
I'm trying to live a clean(ish) lifestyle, with a diet change and no booze for a month. My first day was today, and all went good.
Thursday.
Got the call to go to see Pitch Black (Good, but kind of dated nz electronic band.) Lasted 2 minutes before beer was going down my throat. Then I saw my favourite poison from back home 42 below. Fejoia is amazing. Try explaining what a fejoia is to people from over here. Had a good time. Lots of kiwis. Too many dog-poo haired-trance-spider-horses from Nelson my liking. (trance spider horse is a dance move that i can’t even begin to explain here, but when you see it, you will know.) Fast forward, I'm the last to leave as usual. Went to old friends place and continued on more 42 below. Got to sleep (forcing myself, by the way) at 6am. I have to be in at work at 9. Shit.
Friday
Hungover to hell. My day starts with random guy I met a few weeks ago, at café paris stalking me. He's texting me to come to Watford for his birthday this weekend, trying to be funny to me, making lame ass jokes, asking where I go out, and ending every text with x. I remember him asking me if I was gay, and I quickly told him no. The first text was ok, but me being the dick I am, replied. It only gets worse. Turned from a party at his place, to going to Watford for the weekend. I told him I've got the flu, and now he’s wishing me to get better and he will call me tomorrow, to see if i’m better. (the phone is off tomorrow). I can't believe the holes i dig myself. And to top it off, I've got manuka 42 below, leeching from my skin. Work is painful and my only comfort is a huge mixed grill for lunch. Meat is my favourite hangover cure. I am turning into this guy. Shoot me now. Eventually get home, switch the phone off, and crawl under the duvet.
Saturday-Sunday
My body don't know whats going on. It's not often I wake up on a Saturday. I'm usually saucer-eyed, and talking complete rubbish. If thats more possible that what I actually manage to get down here. Got up at a reasonable Saturday time. Made a great brekky and promptly went back to sleep. I think my body is trying to catch up on about 6 years of missed sleep. Woke up around 2, (turned my phone back on) only to get a call to go out for a "quiet beer." Is there such a thing? One turned into six. Which then turned into a classy rant until daylight. Got lost on the way to the shop at 6.30am for ciggies. Ended up asking a old, kinda strange looking dude for directions. And then went in the completely opposite direction. Old strange dude, drives by me and slows down to see what younger strange dude is doing going the wrong way. He offers me a lift to the shop. What did your mum tell you? Don't get in the car with strangers. I think he was more scared of me. I was trying not to sound dislocated, which is my usual modus operandi, in the wee small hours of the morning, and making small talk about Halloween. He shot me a dirty look, stopped the car and told me "I don't do that anymore, it makes my crazy." Then he motioned me to get out the car. I was a little bemused, but still got out. Didn't realise for a few mins that because of my broad Nuu Ziland accent, he thought I said to him:- "Hi, are you gonna have a good hell weed party today. Typical. Eventually got back to my mates place and we continued till we couldn't. Got home eventually and feasted, and got accosted by boys trick or treating. These kids don't want sweets. They want cash. Where are the parents? That's the question I'm asking. The costumes, they may as well wear ski-masks, and point fingers in coat pockets, that would seem more appropiate. And its now getting dark at 5pm. Great...
I'm trying to live a clean(ish) lifestyle, with a diet change and no booze for a month. My first day was today, and all went good.
Thursday.
Got the call to go to see Pitch Black (Good, but kind of dated nz electronic band.) Lasted 2 minutes before beer was going down my throat. Then I saw my favourite poison from back home 42 below. Fejoia is amazing. Try explaining what a fejoia is to people from over here. Had a good time. Lots of kiwis. Too many dog-poo haired-trance-spider-horses from Nelson my liking. (trance spider horse is a dance move that i can’t even begin to explain here, but when you see it, you will know.) Fast forward, I'm the last to leave as usual. Went to old friends place and continued on more 42 below. Got to sleep (forcing myself, by the way) at 6am. I have to be in at work at 9. Shit.
Friday
Hungover to hell. My day starts with random guy I met a few weeks ago, at café paris stalking me. He's texting me to come to Watford for his birthday this weekend, trying to be funny to me, making lame ass jokes, asking where I go out, and ending every text with x. I remember him asking me if I was gay, and I quickly told him no. The first text was ok, but me being the dick I am, replied. It only gets worse. Turned from a party at his place, to going to Watford for the weekend. I told him I've got the flu, and now he’s wishing me to get better and he will call me tomorrow, to see if i’m better. (the phone is off tomorrow). I can't believe the holes i dig myself. And to top it off, I've got manuka 42 below, leeching from my skin. Work is painful and my only comfort is a huge mixed grill for lunch. Meat is my favourite hangover cure. I am turning into this guy. Shoot me now. Eventually get home, switch the phone off, and crawl under the duvet.
Saturday-Sunday
My body don't know whats going on. It's not often I wake up on a Saturday. I'm usually saucer-eyed, and talking complete rubbish. If thats more possible that what I actually manage to get down here. Got up at a reasonable Saturday time. Made a great brekky and promptly went back to sleep. I think my body is trying to catch up on about 6 years of missed sleep. Woke up around 2, (turned my phone back on) only to get a call to go out for a "quiet beer." Is there such a thing? One turned into six. Which then turned into a classy rant until daylight. Got lost on the way to the shop at 6.30am for ciggies. Ended up asking a old, kinda strange looking dude for directions. And then went in the completely opposite direction. Old strange dude, drives by me and slows down to see what younger strange dude is doing going the wrong way. He offers me a lift to the shop. What did your mum tell you? Don't get in the car with strangers. I think he was more scared of me. I was trying not to sound dislocated, which is my usual modus operandi, in the wee small hours of the morning, and making small talk about Halloween. He shot me a dirty look, stopped the car and told me "I don't do that anymore, it makes my crazy." Then he motioned me to get out the car. I was a little bemused, but still got out. Didn't realise for a few mins that because of my broad Nuu Ziland accent, he thought I said to him:- "Hi, are you gonna have a good hell weed party today. Typical. Eventually got back to my mates place and we continued till we couldn't. Got home eventually and feasted, and got accosted by boys trick or treating. These kids don't want sweets. They want cash. Where are the parents? That's the question I'm asking. The costumes, they may as well wear ski-masks, and point fingers in coat pockets, that would seem more appropiate. And its now getting dark at 5pm. Great...
posted by Myk at 1:12 PM
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