poprock

The weekend: During-work drinks, after-work drinks, Chevy & the Chasers gig, Yer Maw gig, Jim Bob gig, more drinks, too many people, crushed against the monitors, sat in a puddle of spilt beer, singalong-a-Carter USM, fitful sleeep, hangover from hell, fail to sleep, get tattooed, much, much pain, meet Barbarella, Battles and thenonstopdancer for SG Scotia / SGNY crossover action, more drinks and yet more drinks, take cling-film off new tattoo, more pain, more drinks, hangover not yet gone, home for dinner with my wonderful lady, more drinks, 30th party for my lovely neighbour, turns into engagement party for my lovely neighbour, off to vodka-sponsored enormo-nightclub promo party full of wankers and freeloaders, get crushed, hurt new tattoo, drink more, go home, fall over, fitful sleep, paranoid of fresh tattoo and bedsheet interface being a bad thing, fail to sleep, get up, go shopping, buy picnic food and soothing newspaper, hang out on the Green, eat food, drink gin, drink more gin, head home, drink wine, drink martini, go to A gig, dance like a loon on the benches, nod and wave, drink more, and more, come home, another useless night's sleep due to tattoo paranoia, wake up, Monday. Monday. Day off. Thank fuck for that. A day off work. I can relax.