I just realised I have nothing of worth to share. That in mind, here's a series of facts about what happened on Monday night:
Questions?
- It was a Monday.
- The theme of the night, apparently, was the number 90. Cue nighties music - most of it obscure for some reason - and 90p drinks. Classy joint.
- During 2Pac's 'Changes' (I've always preferred David Bowie's version personally) I stood up and did the Randy Orton pose.
- One of my friends lived in Saudi Arabia during the 90s and so didn't recognise much of the music. Let me rephrase that; one of my friends lived in the 80s during the 90s and so didn't recognise much of the music.
- I didn't get served for fifteen minutes because some bald bellend barman was too busy chatting up white women. White supremacist, natch.
- The music was too loud. How am I meant to have a conversation? Honestly.
- A homosexual gentleman, who just so happens to be a friend of a friend, told me I had a nice body and should show it off more. Nice chap.
- Me and my friend, the one who'd lived in Saudi, got bored/hungry and went to get some fried chicken. Apparently, according to the gentleman behind the counter, we could have a Meal 3 and a Meal 4; nothing else. Beggars can't be choosers. Well, except I chose Meal 3 and my friend got lumped with Meal 4. What a dick I am.
- We went back to his place and played Metal Gear Solid for an hour or so before his girlfriend arrived back and he went upstairs to have sexual intercourse with her. I presume.
- The homosexual gentleman arrived soon after and we watched Big Daddy together. Game, set, match.
Questions?