It Started With A Glass Of Wine

Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

It started with a large glass of wine.

I had made plans to go out and have a night full of joyfulness, as you do for a Saturday evening. I have had literally NO money since the first week of this month. I got paid alright but a shopping spree and a drunken weekend later, I found myself on a hard ass budget for the rest of the month. But I said to myself, 'If you have a drink BEFORE HAND and then maybe have a well placed shot in the club, the nagin of vodka will go far'.

Ahem.

So I'm sitting in my house all dolled up, looking like an utter ride of course and I decide a glass of wine would help dramatically for the 'cheap night' cause. So I had that and found myself stumbling a bit towards the bus stop in to town. Awesome.

Met up with a friend of mine first in the Twisted Pepper after getting eyeballed out of it by the bouncer... 'You on your own love?', 'Yes I am and thank you for pointing that out in an extra loud voice so that the entire smoking area thinks I'm a friendless retard'. Asshole.

I go up to pay. I'm asked if I'm on a list. A list! For the Twister Pepper!! I condescendingly say no and the bitch looks me up and down and says 'tenner' IMMEDIATELY after letting the guy in before me for a fiver! I wasn't liking this place already.

So fucking moron that I am, I paid it. I should have just walked out before doing so but I wouldn't have witnessed the best of all sights... These 'retro', 'awesome' people lined the walls, scanning everyone that went in. I, of course, eyeballed the fuck out of all of them. They all saw that they didn't know me and went on posing to each other.

What a place! They all KNEW each other! I felt like I had stumbled in to a birthday bash for a 70 year old and tried to pass myself off as a grand-daughter! Hilarious!! Found my friend and we headed upstairs.

It was a glorified cubbie hole.

Seriously it looked like someone had converted their attic (badly, mind) and slapped red paint on the walls and a DJ booth at the back. It was vile! It looked like an S+M room more than anything! They had a WASHING LINE (?!?!) going across the dancefloor with illuminous pegs hanging up these manky curtains that could be found in a Heatons bargain bin.

Fuuuuuuuuccck!

There was about 10 people in there throwing themselves around the cubbie hole's dancefloor as though they were midway through a spastic fit!

Oh I'm shuddering at the thought of it all!

Everyone there was dressed in American Apparel and that their 'awesome' haircuts styled to perfection. There was a ratio of 2 cameras to each person there! Seriously, the AMOUNT of them! And they were all the flashy, expensive models too, none of this '70 euro from Argos job' in the cubbie hole... oh no!!

I literally found myself a wall, leaned against it and watched this tragedy unfold. It was horrific! Eventually my friend swiped us beers because she knew whoever it was that was playing the 'music' and I proceeded to neck that out of sheer fear for my soul. Some guy in a sun visor came over and wiped all of this fake blood all over me... Ok, fair enough if it was green of something. I could look like I got gunged or gave the HULK a sponge-bath, but RED?! It fucking looked like some chick had her period on my arm!!!!

I pleaded a trip to the jacks, so off we went with yet another free bottle of booze. Yippie. I found myself not caring as much about the blood at this stage but still, I tried to wash it off.

No go.

I mean, AT ALL!!

That sun visor wearing bastard STAINED my skin with what looked like monthly juice. 'Oh hi, yes sorry, could you pass me a sanitary towel for my arm? My arm vagina is leaking again!'

Fuuuuucck sake!

Anyway I left that place pretty speedy (ha!) and headed over to the Academy... this is where the general 'Oh No!' moments happened.

Ok I can't really remember what happened so I'll just tell you the way I remember it and yes, its all in bullet points in my brain.

*Downing another free bottle outside the academy and thinking to myself 'maybe that wasn't a good idea...'

*Meeting the Glamrocks girls at the bar and ordering a vodka...

*Spiking my vodka with more vodka in the middle of the dancefloor by pretending to tie a non existent shoe lace...

*Seeing a group of people that I have no liking for what so fucking ever and shouting and hugging them as if they were my best friends, meanwhile they give me declarations of love and say that we need to go out for drinks. I remember also being absolutely horrified by all of this...

*Spilling all drinks within a 40 foot radius by knocking in to them, one falling on Louise's white coat (sorry again Louise!)

*Trying to wedge the now empty bottle of vodka in the sanitary towel dispenser in the bathroom...

*Meeting my friends on the dancefloor and proceeding to through my hair around like I was in a Florence and the Machine video...

*Seeing another old friend of mine who most likely saw me and thought 'jesus... she's in train-wreck mode again'.

*Knocking in to more people on the dancefloor

*Getting my friend who was in the Twisted Pepper for free by pulling a fast one on the bouncer

*Being in the toilet with said friend from the Twisted Pepper and somehow finding ourselves in a situation that we have both sworn never to speak about and yet find absolutely hilarious!

*Loosing my friend from the Twisted Pepper.

*Swiping pints from the stage that OBVIOUSLY belonged to someone...*head in hands at this stage*

*Somehow being in Burger King laughing my ass off at Una doing her best Edward Cullen impression with chips and ketchup...

*Stomping my way on to the nightlink and hauling ass upstairs where I proceeded to give myself four chins as my body collapsed in on myself

*Being on the nightlink and deciphering the blur outside the windows as being close to home and heading downstairs.

*Standing at the doors of the bus, thinking to myself 'I'm so great, look at me, I can act sober! I bet everyone is thinking "Wow! She's not even drunk, why is she on the bus this late, looking amazing!"'



I'm going to stop the bullet points here because I remember VERY clearly what happened next...

Basically I managed to spew out a drunken 'Thanks very much' to the driver. I stepped off the bus. Now, I didn't notice this until afterwards of course but the driver never actually pulled in. He merely just stopped in the middle of the road.

So the first foot went down.

The second one went down.

I went to lift the first foot off the ground and step forward but it caught itself on the path (that I did not know was there) and proceeded to watch as the ground hurdled towards me.

I literally fell flat on to my fucking face!

MORTIFIED!!

My knees somehow caught the path and the crumpled what stature I had left and I was left sprawled face first on the grass with my dress considerably higher than normal.

I was lying there, hair splayed around me, covered in fake blood on my upper half, real blood on my knee and my dress halfway up my back. I was one of those moments where you first think 'What the fuck?!' immediately followed by an 'Ooookaaaay'.

It was then that I managed to roll around on to my back and looked ahead.

There was the bus driver looking out at me with his eyes as wide as fucking saucers and his mouth in the shape of a big O. Effing bastard. I did what any girl tried to do, I tried to recapture my dignity that was left pouring out the hole now placed at the knee of my tights. I started screaming at him... Well it was more a slurred version of 'You fucking asshole, try pulling up to the path the next time! I'm gonna get you!'

And do you know what he did?

He closed the door. He closed the door and had that same reaction on his face as he pulled off, staring at me the entire time while I tried to pull down my dress as the rest of the bus pulled past.

And what did I do then I hear you cry? Well... I did the only thing you can do in a situation like that... I fell back on the grass and lay there pissing myself laughing. I must have been there for a good five minutes before I actually remembered that there might be people watching.

So I got up and did a quick scan. To my drunken eye there was no one there so off I zig zagged home, limping and crying laughing at the complete horror I had turned myself in to that night.

Eventually made it home and snuck in to the house trying not to wake anyone. Stripped myself of my bra and left it as a good morning present to the household on the kitchen table. Hung it off the back of a chair more like, like a badge of fucking honour! There you effing go! hahaha

I then crept upstairs and immediately passed out.

Woke up the next morning with my little sister hanging over my line of vision, sitting on my stomach and poking me in the face with a crayon.

When did she get here?!

Then I remembered she stayed the night so I dragged her under the duvet and tried to convince her that she wanted to go back to bed... no go.

She got me up, put slippers on me (bless!) and we went downstairs to pass out on the couch. So we sat there for a good hour watching spongebob, busting our bums laughing, me covered in arm vagina juice and reeling from a scabby knee and bruised ribs, all while I robbed her breakfast forgetting that I should be mortified...

Good times! :)

Another Tale To Tell

Jesus I knew I'd be shite at keeping this blog alive!

Anyway I haven't been up to much... that's my usual response when someone I don't either know or even like asks me how I'm doing. You're getting no details out of me so you can go. Go away now! I'm talking about the imaginary people I have formed who I don't know or like, not you dear reader.

Ok its taking me a little longer than normal to write this as I seem to have a case of the shakes. From the cold.

Right.

So last night I went out. (Yes this is how its going to begin!)

Ok so its my own fault for even attempting to wear shoes with more than an inch high heel. In fairness though I thought it was doable! They had a platform on the ball of the foot for fuck sake! So it looked like a four inch heel, when really, in reality it was only 2 or 3 inches. I'm ok with that. Or so I thought...

So what happened was I dragged Grace to the Phantom Friday night. I fooled myself that John(I am changing names here so to protect my privacy and pride) would be up for a little shameless flirting and maybe a quick wear but no, the man now has a girlfriend and wouldn't even say hi. Right. That has done a lot for the ego. Especially after the whole Paul (another name change) and the whole 'Oh I now happen to be now dating one of the branch managers that you speak to on a daily basis right in front of your face and I'm pretending to be apologetic about it' incident, lets just say it knocked me when I didn't need any more knocking. Know what I mean? So I drank to compensate, as you do. :D

So basically that ended in disaster. I remember going up to talk to John at some stage to say I was high tailing it out of there and he nodded and smiled and pretended to pay attention. I'm glad I never removed the word 'asshole' from the front of his name in my phone.

So we left and got in a taxi to Whelans.

This 'incident' happened as a result of three mistakes on my part.

I put back on my plastic tastic shoes in the taxi and actually managed to convince myself that I was going to be able to walk in them. Yeah. First mistake.

We got out of the taxi early because the traffic was mental. Second mistake.

Enter the crossroads at Wexford St.

Que changing traffic lights.

Que me making the decision to go for it. Third mistake.

*shuffle shuffle shuffle* Go Chrisso! You can make it! (My internal monologue) Go Chrisso!!!!!!!!

*Thump*

Apparently my feet has an objection to moving in a coordinated fashion to cross the fucking road because all of a sudden I find myself face down on the ground, right smack bam in the middle of a busy intersection mind, with my feet dangling in the air behind me.

Right in front of stopped traffic!!!

To say I'm mortified beyond belief is an understatement! Although I'm thinking about it and I can't stop fucking laughing about it because it was THAT bad! I actually properly skulled myself!

Now I have two wonderful bruises on my already battered legs. I have named them Barry and Bob. They are going to be hanging around for a while so I said I'd welcome them along to the disaster zone that is my body and make them feel that extra bit welcome by assigning them names. I wouldn't mind but they happened to appear on an artery so they are really sore!

Jesus I need a go of a soapy sponge.

So anyway, I'm lying there in the middle of the road and Grace, who made it across, lucky bitch, can't even LOOK at me! She physically TURNED her body AWAY from me because she could barely stand from laughing so hard. Did she help me?! Oh no she bloody well didn't! I had to PEEL myself from the tarmac while trying once again to stand in the plastic tastic shoes and continue to cross the road while busting my ass laughing. All the while limping like a leper!!!

Seriously I'm writing this and can't stop laughing! No doubt Grace will give me a step by step replay of the whole incident later... bitch. hahaha

She did say after I got across the road, that I didn't even SAY anything before or during the fall. The only reason she turned around to look at me was because of the sound my shoes made before I hit the deck! Apparently they squeaked in protest just before I said 'Hi' to the ground with my face! Bastard plastic tastic shoes. Gave me a shagging set of blisters aswell for my trouble the bastards!

Damn squeeking, blister inducer, Barry and Bob creator, plastic tastic shoes!!!!

Here they are...




So Whelans was great! Hahahaha after all of that! :D Got attacked by Tommy the bouncer with the stamping machine. Woke up this morning with a limp, arms covered in stamps, a carpet in my mouth, erratic blisters and a twitching face along with the shakes.

I resemble a pirate.

Nice.

I Reek Of So Much Class, It Astounds Me...

Ow.


Ow.


Oww oww oww oww oww oww oww!!


My head. My poor beautiful head.

Pumping headache?
Check.
Duvet tangled around my hips?
Check.
Naked?
Check.
Lying spread out on the bed like Jesus nailed to a cross?
Fucking check.

So what was a quiet night in with a few friends turned in to a drinking and singing marathon that involved copious amounts of alcohol,nachos with melted cheese, ice cream, chocolate, Dirty Dancing and Alan Carr.

Annoyed with the fact that it was a Thursday night and some people had work in the morning, my friend and I headed in to town to take the night to another level. I ended up in the last place I thought I would. The Base Bar. Its basically a club in a basement that's one sole purpose is to ruin the foundations of the Georgian structure. It seems to be doing a pretty good job of it I must say.

Anyway, on any normal given night I wouldn't be caught dead in there but I found myself inside, downing very cheap vodka and red bull and dancing away. It was also a gay night in there which topped it all off! All night I was fending off admirers and receiving compliments that my friend and I make a lovely couple. I found the whole thing fucking hilarious! hahaha

So basically it was a night of titty popping to Beyonce and dancing wildly while steadily getting worse off with each mouthful of fuel. At the end of the night I found myself being very smart and deciding to go in to work. Yes, work.

Funny story. You know the way I had gone to my friend's house for 'nibbles' and 'refreshments'? (I say nibbles, I mean practically inhaling the melted cheese and nachos.)Anyway I had planned to be there at around 6. I arrived at half 7 with a very fucking large tent, a wheely duffle bag, bag full of clothes from Pennys and sweaty armpits. I had 'stopped off' in town. Just for a 'look' you understand. I walked in to a camping shop and there was a very large tent for 85 euro. I expressed some interest in the product. Guy came over, saw that I knew what I was talking about, pointed out the good points about the tent and then offered it to me for 70 euro. I couldn't exactly turn that down now could I?

So that brings us to why I had all of this shit. Cut then to me deciding to go on the last. Where to put the bag? hmmm... *lightbulb* You know, I DO happen to work in town... I'm sure they wouldn't mind me just dropping in and dumping my stuff off for a few hours. So I did. And then returned to my lovely office block at 3 o clock in the morning absolutely shit faced and end up talking to the overnight guy for at least a half hour.

I have no recollection of what I said to him.

Anyway, cut to me arriving at home. Completely forgot to take the luggage out of the boot and end up having the taxi man running after me to the door. Lovely. Got in, went upstairs and saw my bed. Sleep. Yum. Looked down. Clothes. Ugh. Que the struggle to get out of the bloody things. Grand, dress was off. Looked down. Tights. UGH. Start taking them off. Struggling with the ankle bit. This is familiar. Bending over. Balance starts to go. Ooh, hair clip on the carpet. Why is the floor this close. OWW. OWW OWW OWW OWW OWW OWW.

Yeah.

I managed to fall over head first on to the floor but not before I skulled my head off the wroth iron handle on my dresser. I fell to the ground in pain and lay there with my arse in the air and my tights still fucking wrapped around my ankles. I actually passed out for a few minutes! I came to a few mins later and shuffled around on the floor, removed my tights all the while clutching my head.I saw my bed, clambered up and proceeded to pass out fully. I came to this morning with no recollection of what happened to my head.

I came down the stairs after putting on some clothes, no need to scare the horses like. I was actually still drunk I think. Anyway my mam asked me what the hell I did last night as she said she heard me falling over, a loud swear and then silence. She was two minutes from coming in to see if I was still alive when she heard me get up. I proceeded to fall around the place laughing and tell her of what she would have seen had she actually walked in.

Yeah. So that brings us to now. I'm sitting here, nursing a cup of tea, taste of crisps in my mouth and matted hair. I just had to write all of this down because I might forget it in case I get a concussion.

I've spent the morning in convulsions of laughter on the phone with my friend, lying spread across the bed while I tell her of what happened. The plan? Go out tonight and do it all again.

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