agentblack

Ahhh what a night. I was annoyed tha I wasn't a bit more awake, as dropping off for a little snooze in a loud bar isn't the best way to confirm your hardrocking Wildman credentials, or amazingly entertaining for those around you.

Unless they've slipped you a couple of roofies and are all set with the duct tape and beard trimmer, ready to leave you hairless and naked, taped to a lampost on Old Compton Street.

The highlight of the journey home.

"Shit, is the sun still setting?"

"No, it's Rising. You Twat."

So that was friday.

Saturday didn't happen. It was me sleeping like a hairy baby, then going to the gym, eating like a pig, then sleeping again, like a hairy sweaty baby.

Sunday ... yeah. I saw episode III, it was alright, I went with a girl, we talked about bluegrass, robert crumb, metro stations in paris, and barcelona. I strobed between smitten/giggly/awkward/geeky. yay me.