I Am Drunk So Have To Number Stuff

I have just got home from a place deep underneath London Bridge station called Shunt Vaults. I am drunk and tired, and am temping in the morning. Tomorrow I go to Manchester for the weekend. I hear that is Up North. Apparently there is still heating and things so it is not so bad. Also there is someone super nice to escort me around.


Now, though, I write things in no particular order!

1. I saw some graffiti the other day. In the ladies toilets in a bar. Someone had written in pained and anguished tones:

MY MOTHER MADE ME A LESBIAN

It was angsty.

Someone else had written interestedly underneath:

Do you think that if I got her the wool she'd make me one?

I liked it.

2. Just now I impassionedly tried to persuade a young lady not to become a recruitment consultant. She likes tap dancing. I encouraged her in that direction.

3. I went to an erotic reading tonight.

4. At my current temp job there is a whole bookshelf of good books to read at lunchtimes. Also there is good coffee.

5. One of my favourite people in the world is leaving for New York on Saturday. He will not be back for six months. I am going to miss him an awful lot. I know it'll be great, though, and he'll have an amazing time, and Chris, if you don't email me LOTS I will never abuse your friendship again and then you'll be sorry.

6. I'm drunk. I'm going to bed.

I don't think drunken-blogging is a good idea. It's perhaps the virtual equivalent of me staggering up to you, throwing my arms around your neck and making us both fall over. If I then try to snog you we can blame the drink and laugh about it tomorrow.

Good night.