some weekend activities are just not good for me.
* drinking too much champagne (really it's australian sparking wine - how I hate that term!)
* thinking I can stand upright & dance
* falling off dancefloors into the crowd
* smoking methols
* going to nightclubs and doing any of the above continuously
* arguing with the door bitch
* driving home while under the influence
* recovery the next day included lots of miso soup, cups of tea & strangley an opera on the ABC arts program...I just couldn't stand ads, the noise was too much
* and the much needed dash to the bathroom to park my tiger
all the next day I kept having flash backs on my behaivour, so kept uttering two words, 'bum!' and 'fu*k!"
I won't say, never again, but a quiet life in the suburbs with dogs & home duties is just looking so appealling... this city single life is exhausting & in my case, all too repetitive.
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10 years ago
5 comments:
Hey there,
Thanks for the comment and the links on your site - I'll definitely be checking out this Catalyst story! I vouch for the 'pizza topping' line - but that's a story for another day.
Good luck in the search. Sounds like your weekend was not unlike mine, although its not usually opera I find solace in - its often news radio and intense coffee.
Oh that is hilarious. I feel the same way after I "fuck" and "bum" my way through an evening (and the next day after.)
It may happen again...but don't let that make you move to the country just yet...
Oh and what the heck does "park my tiger" mean?
'park my tiger' 'talk to the porceline phone', 'ralf' 'technicolour yawn'...all colourful ways of saying - vomit.
no offense intended cat, but isn't going to night clubs and getting drunk all terribly passe?
note that i've only ever once been in a nightclub, and resolved never to step foot into another.
I think, bureaucrat, that will be the last time in such a place. somethings take me a long time to learn..that was one of them!
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