Clare's gaff & turks head

After Froddo Baggins' induction into present arms, an affair that spanned six cans of quality Dutch lager, I met Lenny outside TBMC. We strolled up Dame street with Clare and Mark's apartment as our destination. I don't know how but I left TBMC carrying all my gear and by the time we arrived at Clare's (via a dodgy off license for more quality Dutch lager) Lenny was carrying all the gear. Still no better man for the job and I took advantage of him struggling to put down the gear by running to the toilet ahead of him. I emerged from the toilet one metal pole the richer and placed myself firmly on a comfy cushion with a cool can of Tuborg. The Late Late Show Toy Show was on and I found myself having a long in depth conversation with Clare's sister Judy about Jamiroquai. The room was set up perfect for a soiree. Everything was there - beer, pringles, right down to the big bowl of condoms on the table! Clare explained she got them free from work. Sure Clare! We believe you! Share the wealth, that's what I say. Disecting mine and Hazel's relationship with Goong was another highlight. Eventually Clare managed to round us up to head out. But where to? The Palace was suggested and as soon as Clare heard there would be 17 year olds there she reacted appropriately by screaming "Go on 17 year olds!" Thankfully some other people were more together and we ended up walking to the Mezz.

On the way down, Lombard Direct and Goong went into Number 1 shop for credit and God knows what else. While waiting outside for them, I heard a strange grating sound eminating from the little Thai girl beside me. "oighsdaoiagasdoig" she said. "ZXCXCXCVXOVOFOSF!!" What the fudge was going on?! She was trying to tell me something and I eventually made out that she was telling me that she was coughing and pissing at the same time! Well I had never seen or heard anything like that before and frankly the whole thing freaked me out a little. It was then I realised that thanks to aforementioned quality Dutch lager I may not remember this unique moment in my life the following day. One carefully placed call to Colleee sorted that out and I continued on my merry way. Upon arriving at The Mezz, we discovered to our dismay that the place was closed till next week. Shite. It being quite late, I remembered that the Viper Room stayed open late on weekends. The others weren't too happy about wandering round looking for the Viper room so I volunteered to be the scout party. After 5 minutes of intense searching I drew a blank and decided to return to the others. Upon my return, they had come across a lost light weight New York chick who was asleep on a bollard. Every attempt was made to locate her hostel and just as we found a taxi who knew where her hostel was, Colleee received the following text message:

"The number you requested for "JACOBS INN" is "018555660". Thank you for calling 11811."

It was then that an executive decision was made to go to Turks Head. My what a treat lay in store for us there! As many free postcards as we could eat! (Sample postcard on right) The logical thing, of course, was to locate a pen and write drunken postcards to friends who couldn't attend the evening - and some who were there! We soon realised that our efforts were futile as we had no stamps until... Graham opens his wallet and what falls out? 5 x 48c stamps!!! What are the odds? So out came the tongue, on go the stamps and into the back pocket for postage later. Then it was up for some fairly dodgy drunken dancing. It being the time of year that it is, the music finished with a couple of classic Christmas songs. Forced out onto the cold hard streets of Temple Bar by the bouncers, we proceeded to the only logical destination - Iskanders! After getting outside of a juicy lamb kebab, I felt the need to re-christen Colleee as Concrete Colleee. This is a tribute to the Specials song Concrete Jungle. My next memory is of me and the newly named Concrete Colleee singing the lyrics to concrete jungle at the top of our voices - "You're going home in a fucking amblance. You're gonna get your fucking heads kicked in!" The only problem is Collee swears he wasn't there when I did that which begs the question - who was the bloke I had my arm around and singing with??!! :-/

Apparently Concrete Colleee's journey home was not without its entertainment. The ambulance on the left is the aforementioned one from the Specials song that I was seemingly destined to go home in. His walk over to the northside saw a girl outside Spirit snorting coke from an ATM card! And I'm not talking about the high caffeine, high sugar carbonated drink kids. It was about now that I left the others for my faithful nightlink stop where I waited listening to Jamiroquai. BANG! Something had crashed into me and I didn't know what it was! Looking down I saw a man on the ground who had obviously run straight into me. He was scrabbling to get up quick but the more he scrabbled the more he slipped and fell down again. He finally managed to get up and resume running when BANG! the drunken fool crashes straight into a bus stop! This was met by howls of derisive laugher from innocent bystanders. The poor sod tried to get up but was met with the same problem of the scrabbling/slipping trade off as before. As he finally managed to get up and ran round the corner out of my life forever (hopefully) I felt a strange sense of pity for him. Just then my nightlink turned up and I boarded the vomit comet bound for home. Once home, I turned on my laptop to keep a date I had made earlier in the evening with Colleee to chat to him on MSN. In Col's true drunken thievery that we all love him for, he managed to swipe several thousand postcards from the pub. Not sure what he's gonna do with them all mind. Perhaps he could go about proving my much debated postcard theory. Not getting much response out of Col, I then attempted to chat up a hot 31 year old chick on a dating site. Suffice to say I haven't heard from her yet.

A great night out that would not be complete without mentioning a certain explicit text message intended for Ali but sent to Concrete Colleee. The content of this message will remain locked inside my brain and can only be unlocked using a special key (Any form of alcohol will do really...)

Now away with ye...