I had a very, very simple plan for this weekend. It went a little bit like this:

- Go to work saturday.
- Come home.
- Play lots and lots and lots of Oblivion
- Continue this throughout sunday,

However, it didn't exactly work out like that. What was supposed to be a quiet weekend actually included some of the following highlights:

- Referring to myself as 'The Skittles of Cartesian Dualism' and to Summer as 'A sweet but essentially spiritually unfulfilling Malteser'. Summer said she was more like a coffee Revel.
- A relatively quiet day at work intrrupted only by the near outbreak of a brawl inside the library. A gang of kids were trying to get some boy in the library to come outside so they could beat the shit out of him. I spotted one of them was carrying a knife (some of the otehrs were probably carrying too, they just had the sense not to carry them into the library hidden in their fists, retards) so we got the police to arrive, drag them outside and search them. It meant I left work 10 minutes late, inconsiderate bastards.
- Meeting Barny, la_zorra, Perdy, CrackHeidi (briefly) and MarieCeleste at The Ship for drinks and japery. It was fun. La_Zorra is creepy.
- Not actually knowing where to get off the bus at Stoke Newington or where to find the warehouse the party was in. Asking some passers-by helped although they enquired as to whether we were going to one of those 'strap you down' places. Apparently me and Barny look like bondage freaks. Who knew?
- Finally getting to the party and getting horribly smashed on some kind of mandarin vodka. Barny kept pushing drinks into my hand that tasted just a wee bit strong. Methinks she was trying to get me drunk. It worked.
- Meeting nice new people and scaring them with tales of stabbings and machete incidents. I also maanged to somehow spark a serious debate on the IRA with the story about the crazy old man who tried to rent 9 1/2 weeks.
- Randomly running into Jezabel (I got your name right! YAY!) who was also there and putting on a burlesque routine. Woo!
- After this, my memory becomes somewhat hazy as I was utterly smashed. I have vague memories of stumbling out of the party rather late, having no luck finding a cab (apparently I was asking pimps how much for a ride to Hackney, evidently I felt they would recognise my fellow pimpitude and give me a lift). I also apparently threw up in Hackney. I kind of remember this. I know there were railings.
- According to Barny I passed out in her bathroom. I can't remember this for the life of me. There is a bit of a gap after we made it back to hers though. I DO remember that she spent ages trying to post something to SGUK and couldn't do it though. She was just as drunk as me I'll have you all know. Well, maybe a little less.
- Spending most of sunday slobbing around Barny's room, eating scrambled eggs on toast and many many sweets as well as haranguing almostfamous on MSN.
- Finally stumbling back through my front door at 9, after having left on, well, 9am on saturday. So much for my quiet and uneventful weekend.

In conclusion, Barny is an excellent host, wonderful company, and I shall certainly miss her while she's off in the hellish wasteland of mid-Wales. However, now I can't face the idea of anything orange-flavoured without being thoroughly put off.