Well the last 24 hours turned out to another worryingly bizarre day and I'm starting to think I'm in some secret Reality TV show. I'm expecting Ant n Dec to pop out of the linen basket soon or find Dale Winton hiding in the shed.
Things started calmly yesterday and I was having a nice birthday. Lots of cards and pressies and mates coming round for the evening for a few beers. Not sure they were coming to celebrate my birthday mind cos the England match was on and I have the biggest telly.
Spent the duration of the match chewing the ends of my fingers off and 2 of them are still bleeding where I caught a big bit and pulled huge chunks off flesh off in the process. The match was the usual England roller coaster. Her upstairs was having hysteria again and at one point I thought my Habitat ceiling fan was a goner at her jumping up and down. She's only small but when she's watching football it's like having Giants Haystacks on a pogo stick upstairs. Dis-allowed goal, extra time and penalty shoot out obviously followed and after Beckham sent his ball into orbit around Pluto you just knew things were not gonna go well. Outcome = inevitable.
I could hear the police sirens and helicopters already. The lesbians were out so no doubt they were trashing some pool table with their mates.
Just as we recovered from the match and sinking a few half pints of wine events took a turn for the bizarre.
Housemate has suddenly gone a bit mad on the whole dating scene and is juggling 4 f**k buddies. I think after the events of the last 24 hours he'll be cutting back.
About 00.30 he starts getting abusive drunken texts and voicemails from 1 of them which escalates into f**k buddy 1 driving round pissed as a fart and causing a big stink on the doorstep. Of course housemate is hiding in his room so muggins here is left to play British Bulldogs on the front path with a hysterical skinhead to stop him getting into the house. The dog decides to join the fracas but limits her involvement to ear piercing screeching from a safe distance in the hall. I manage to calm the skinhead down with threats of Police and a Glasgow kiss and he eventually staggers off back to his car, falling into the hedge and a recycling bin on his way.
I'm now more hyper and land up polishing off more wine before drifting off to bed fully clothed.
Had the worst hangover today. Really bad. Nothing worked. Alka Seltzer, Berroca, hot bath, water, cooked breakfast. Haven't done a poo yet either which is a bit disturbing.
About 16.00 f**k buddy number 2 arrives for the weekend and everything going fine until a couple of hours later when the doorbell goes. I answer it and there's f**k buddy 3 standing there with a bunch of flowers. OMG. What do I do. Panic stricken I take him into the lounge. My mouth's not working properly and the hangover suddenly appears to take a turn for the worse so I can't get my words out properly and just keep saying 'You OK mate'. I shut him in the lounge. Luckily housemate and f**k buddy 2 are downstairs so I'm now thinking 'How do I get housemate upstairs'. After mind racing for a few minutes I decide to call him on his mobile. He answers it saying 'WTF are you phoning me. I'm here'. I explain the predicament and he comes upstairs looking flushed with eyes like organ stops.
So the plan we hastily come up with is that he will chat with f**k buddy 3 in the lounge whilst I keep f**k buddy 2 occupied downstairs. Brilliant! Except after 10 minutes f**k buddy 2 decides he wants a fag and heads for the stairs. I consider a rugby tackle or maybe locking him in the downstairs loo but he's too fast. We go out for a fag and thankfully not been spotted. However mid-ciggie I turn round and see housemate and f**k buddy 3 looking at us from the Kitchen.
The game's up and I'm thinking I can't cope with more brawling. However housemate just introduces everybody and we all land up chatting on the patio for 20 minutes about nothing in particular. Housemate is sweating profusely by this stage but it all goes off without a hitch and eventually f**k buddy 3 says his farewells and departs.
I think we're off the hook...............for now.
On a lighter note I went out for another fag about an hour later and caught next door's cat mid-poo on my flower bed. It got such a fright when I appeared that it jumped about 2 feet in the air and the last bit of poo shot out at high velocity and hit the fence LMAO!
No comments:
Post a Comment