And then I saw this; Hedgehog gets penis jammed in fence
March 2002 Archives - wibbler.com
Oh, and Jac acquired some painted fingernails and a new haircut, courtesy of me. The lucky beggar.
If I say another drunken night was had, you’d probably groan at the inevitability of it all. Although this time, The Cranley Hotel beckoned for “Open Mike” night with a difference: this was “Open Shaun and Jac” night. Shaun (Shunta‘s brother) and Jac both sang their little hearts out for 3 1/2 hours, coped admirably with the appallingly timed Cranleigh Rugby team night out (of all the nights Shaun and Jac chose…) and generally had an enormous amount of fun with myself, Shunta, Michelle and Sophie. I was particularly impressed with Jac’s T-Shirt – the very one I had bought him for his birthday. Everyone was very impressed. Shunta “worked” behind the bar all night, but ended up the most drunk out of all of us, arriving back home just in time to show us his horde from the trip to his house – a stack of 100 magazines, two camping signs, a couple of daffodils and a bus stop. I wonder if he still has a job…
A brilliant commentary of the classic debate: “Better Drivers – Men of Women?”
“[She] looked at me the other day. ‘We need to find you more work,’ she said, ‘and not just for the money, either.’
I wondered what she meant: Was I depressed? Not particularly. Bored? Well, yes, sometimes. Boring? The lightbulb went on. “Oh,” I said. ‘You’ve been reading my blog.'” (from the “highbrow” Buy the Cow)
By the way, the drunken Kingston night‘s photos are online. See us drunk. Roll up.
So, you wouldn’t think a quiet Thursday night drink would be carnage, would you? Jac’s account can’t be bettered, so read it here. All I can add is that the ?6.42 I thought I’d spent ballooned when I discovered that I’d produced my credit card three times at the bar…
bits & pieces – a sonic installation for the web. What an odd idea…
This rabbit wants your pointer, and no mistake. VERY CLEVER INDEED.
So there I was in Electronics Boutique, buying the incredible game Medal of Honor (any spare time I did have is now consumed with Multiplayer Medal of honor MADNESS), when the shop assistant checks my overused credit card, turns to me and says, “Wow, not THE Simon XXXXXXX, surely? Not the one who got Joke of the Month in FHM?” I brimmed with pride, and confirmed that I was the one, yes, and thank you for noticing.
FAME. I’ve just had my 15 minutes.