Do you want to make friends and influence people? Do you want to be seen as sophisticated and witty? Have you ever considered that one way of achieving your dreams is to just get really pissed and show off a lot? No I bet you hadn’t.…..
That’s my forte in life.
I am nearly forty five. You would think that I would be a responsible adult by now but I’m as big a dick now as I’ve ever been. I’m not just a dick, I am a gigantic tit.
I was supposed to be running this morning but you can’t run after a gincident.
The gincident began at around 4.00 yesterday when I took two of the little shits to Party Debs’s house for a play date. Party Debs got the gin out and Party Totes came out to play.
I know that most people think that I’m an out and out lush already but last night I went into a whole new stratosphere of drunkenness.
I left the little shits at Party Debs’s house whilst I nipped to show my face at a fiftieth birthday party. I left my car at Party Debs’s house. I was incapable of remembering that this morning and I briefly considered that it had been stolen.I was going for a run this morning so I thought that I’d have one gin and tonic and potter off home. The trouble with me is that I don’t do sensible even when I try. I did try a bit. I was quite charming and witty for the first hour or so. Well what I consider witty and charming. I made grown up conversations whilst I slowly sipped my gin that was supposed to last me for the duration of the party.
“I’ll go home at about 8.00 and get an early night for my run tomorrow” is the last clever thought that I remember having.
At 8.50 I said goodbye to the hostess with the mostess but somehow didn’t leave. What I did instead is simple, I put a fucking straw in a bottle of gin and I drank it. Not literally but I mayas we’ll have.
I’m blaming this completely on Dams and Lisa Double barrelled. I would like to offer a piece of advice to anybody who is ever in either of their company. Never, ever let them make you a gin and tonic.
Dams is the person that woke scarred for life after a night out with me. I think that her husband is a little wary of me already. He probably thinks that I’m a fucking psycho now.
My memory gets a little hazy after that but I’ll tell you what I remember…..
You know the hymn that we used to sing at school “the lord of the dance”? I’m fairly sure that that song is about me and not Jesus. If there’s music and I’ve drunk anything alcoholic, I try to make everybody in my vicinity dance regardless of whether they are wiling to or not. I pull people out of chairs, stop people from having a lovely chat with a friend and I command them to dance.
“Just dance motherfuckers”
And then my old favourite, Breakdancing. Every time that I get pissed, I am convinced that I can body pop and breakdance. I never have been able to and I never will be able to. That doesn’t stop me pulling lots of people that I barely know out of their chairs to hold hands and pretend that an electric current is going through their body. Then of course there is my famous caterpillar. I possibly bare more resemblance to a slug that somebody has poured salt on, writhing in agony, in its death throes than a caterpillar as I just lie on my stomach and rock backwards and forwards.
A new idea occurred to me last night and I took my clothes off and swapped them with another lady because she remarked that she liked my dress. We swapped shoes too. I have size 8 feet and she has size 3. Fuck knows what I’ve done to her sandals. I made her put my glasses on and I danced in her teeny weeny sandals like one of the ugly sisters.
I photographed my tits with a camera that the host had left lying around and then I really got Into my stride with a light box. As it was a very nice party and the hostess had really gone to town on decorations, there was a light box with the lettering on that read “happy fiftieth birthday Mark” or something else nice. The lettering was rearranged to spell out “my crack” and I pulled my skirt up and held it in front of my knickers whilst people took photos.What a classy bird I am!
And then all of a sudden, I was at home throwing up.
Dangerous tells me that he heard me coming down our quiet gated road where I regularly lower the tone because I was singing loudly. Apparently I was singing but unable to walk as I zigzagged dangerously towards the house falling into bushes.
He came down to let me in and carried me upstairs whilst I sang to him. I sat on the floor and shouted what I always shout when I am drunk which is,
“I IS MINGING, MINGING.I IS MINGING”
I promptly vomited and fell asleep. I have no recollection of how I got home but lisa double barrelled assures me that I did it on foot on a promise of chips. It’s a good fifteen minute walk when sober so I’m surprised that I made it.
This morning I got up to told that Bella’s nice friend had been sick on the floor and Ted had forgotten to do a wee before bed so he’d had a little accident. I cleaned up all that and then had to clean up my own spatters of vomit.
Dangerous just keeps laughing at me in my abject misery.
So now you know how to make new friends and nobody will ever forget who you are…..
Next week I will be offering advice on being subtle and meek.
Stay tuned Mofos and fashion forward bitches. I’d say chin chin but I’m never drinking again.