creamygoodness

You'd have to be pretty damn good at finding the silver lining to find anything good about the half-hour walk through pissing rain I've just had to endure, but at the very lesat you could say it's sobered me up enough to write my thoughts down in at least a semi-coherent way, as opposed to the usual tumbling forth of random thoughts and tangents . Wow, that was a hell of a run-on sentance.

It's getting to be a bit of a pattern now that I'll only ever update my journal to write about how drunk I got with the SGUK London hardcore and... well... it'd be a shame to break with an emerging tradition. I just got back from a night at The Ship, with some of the usual misfits and a couple of the more unusual ones (well, they're all unusual, but you know what I'm getting at).

It was a fairly quiet evening this time round, with the roster including myself, partiallyblind, mariana, pearlbass, nonchalance, spike and fresh meat oroligist. We once more managed that rarest of beasts, the SGUK 'quiet night out' with a surprising lack of drunken frenchmen, books about breasts, and lesbian snogging. It was, in fact, the perfect antidote to a long, long day full of grieving librarians and computer-obsessed nutcases.

In fact, the only real stormclouds on the horizon were the literal stormclouds that pissed down rain on me all the way home. Fun times....


It would appear, in fact, that I am a bit silly. It wasn't oroligist, but oroligista. Unfortunately I'd given some people the idea that he'd been zotted by spelling his name wrong. Oops.