tooth soup

The last week or so has wandered by without too much comment, a strange little time where sleep patterns have ruled and work has been almost non-existant – in stark contrast to the week before where it seemed all I did was remove locks on DVDs to hire them to frowning customers. The act of which is something I need to go and do once more (into the void my friends?) in about an hour.

Wednesday night was a barbeque over at Louise’s place with a few of her friends – Megan, Pamela and Ian – which was meant to be followed by a drive over to the Norfolk hotel in Fremantle, but ended up being a sit-around-and-get-drunk. Which was perfectly fine for me and my bottle of Schmirnoff, we got rather well acquainted during the night and I ended up parting ways with my memory at around about 2am. So yeah, I had a good time for what I can remember. We kicked the living shit out of Pam and Ian in Pictionary – Louise and I taking turns to take each other’s minds (Ooooh wheeeee oooooh) the instant the pencil was down on the paper. Well, okay, maybe not that quickly, but we won in any case. And Louise can’t light a barbeque while tipsy (pity I didn’t lose that memory, eh?).

I had Louise over for dinner on Friday night for a three course meal I promised her –

Appetiser: Cauliflower soup with cheese and bacon toasts
Main: Grilled herb polenta with semi-dried tomato and olive salad
Dessert: Sparkling stone fruit and strawberry jelly

It was, needless to say, nice. Well maybe not that needless, as I asked her and Mum about thirty times each whether it was okay, as if begging them to say that it was terrible so that I could push nails through my fingers or something. But they resolutely insisted it was very nice thankyou and could you please pass the salad, I like the tomatos. The sparkling jelly was especially a hit, being that is made out of champagne and gelatine – so you get this jelly that fizzes in your mouth around the fruit. Going to have to crank that out a few more times – so nice. After dinner Louise and I confirmed our status as playground-spotters. It’s a logical fact that if you walk far enough you’ll hit a playground, we just tend to do it more often than others. Maybe I should start a scrapbook…*slap* No. Stupid.

Last night was going out to one of Louise’s friend’s 21^sts and watching a very drunk irish friend (yes, he was apparently cute ‘in a strange way’ according to the girls present Cian) of Linda’s get very drunk and try and pash/grope/hit everything in sight. There was one hell of a bar tab going but unfortunately I was driving so no drinkies for me. Lots of talking and reminiscing about high school was done before we lost Owen (the irish guy) and spent a good 20 minutes trying to find him before spotting his t-shirt (thankfully with him still in it) in an internet cafe/backpackers next door to the OBH. 6 people in my car made their way back to Megan’s where much crashing was done and a confused Louise and I drove off, having been under the impression that we were supposed to keep going there (L:”They totally used you!?”). We drove down the river and walked up and under the bridge (passing a playground, see?) for some jellyfish spotting and horse-noise-making (the tapping, fools) before I dropped her off and we both crashed (in seperate beds for the sake of Louise being able to stay in her house). I left in the morning before anyone could even notice that I had stayed over in time to get to work. Work was boring, but Kate C’s a good worker (and crazily enough, nowadays she actually talks to me! Wow!) and the time went quickly enough.

And so now I’m here. I hate to do one of these day-to-day updates without saying anything else random and thoughtful, but I’m quite tired of typing now and I wish to read more Jasper Fforde (double-eff deliberate).
Nighty night fellows.

P.S.: My gosh I use a lot of brackets.

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