Mistletoe and Whine

That's another Christmas done and dusted, then, and thank fuck for that. Twenty one of them down now, hopefully they’ll start getting a bit less awkward in years to come. Sitting around, waiting for everyone to fuck off so that you can have a drink (an immediate family full of recovering alcoholics is not my idea of fun), the only escape an hour or so’s worth of walking the dogs, being forced to watch a rather racy Pink DVD with your parents and grandparents (twice. So that Dad could ‘test the Blu-Ray’. Yeah, right).

Back to the good times, tonight, though. Boxing Day means its Beff’s birthday and everyone’s heading down Little Johnny Russell’s. Well, I say ‘everyone’, what I actually mean is a bunch of her friends. God, I hope they’re not all dickheads. Just need to figure out how the hell I’m going to get there now (Boxing Day public transport really is horse shit) and see if the crowd that turns up are anywhere near bearable (I really do HATE 18th’s). Should be fun.

Actually, I think the last time I was at LJR's was before I moved back to Portsmouth (seven months and counting, oh dear). Sinade and Soph got kicked out for snorting ketamine in the toilet. This was after we'd only just narrowly managed to convince the bouncers to let us in, due to me wearing a chain around my neck which he recognised as being stolen from the One Eyed Dog. We're all set for some kind of disaster tonight, then.


By the way, I’m not actually a crack addled junkie. I titled this blog after the name my ex-girlfriend and her group of friends gave themselves back when I was fifteen. Meeting that girl was the first day of the rest of my life ..