Tuesday, August 02, 2005


Lollie already told this story, but I wanted to tell it from my unique perspective.
I want the world to see things my way, just like one day when I expose my co-workers to my unique brand of folk-rock.

So Saturday nite, Lollie and our now mutual friend (who's blog alias has since become Britney), decide to have a few drinks in front of the tellie.
Britney had recently had a run of REALLY bad luck in the last couple of days, and me and Lollie... well we just wanted to watch Simpsons and get drunk.

Little did I know that Lollie was mixing drinks.
I turn to talk to her one minute and she has a beer in her hand.
I turn around again - Jack and coke. What are you drinking tonight??

Gather round little chillun', this is a tale of drunken stupidity.
For if one mixes one's drinks - it is almost certain to disagree with one, sooner or later.

The night progresses. Beer nuts and Doritos. We start to quote Simpsons.

"I raised four youngins, three chilluns and a baby in this van!"

Lollie's mixing drinks. I'm takin it slowly (the drinks that is) and Britney seems a little down in the dumps.

We start to quote Futurama...

"Fry, If you don't accept this offer, I will loose all respect for you and punch you"

After this I get a hankering for chocolate, real bad. The shakes start coming on. Lollie agrees, so we head down the the local 7 Eleven. Or in Futurama terms 711

Lollie tries to negotiate the use of the bathroom with Ravi, or Bapu, or Mandeep or something or other. I buy chewies and smokes (my usual fare).

Suddenly we are surrounded by teenage muzzas* all thirteen or fourteen, all being loud and muzza-like. Lollie and I both react the same way

"Ba ha ha ha ha ha!!!!" *cough* *cough*

I aint never seen so much cheap hair gel and acne in one place.

A little bit later we all go to our respective drunken sleeps. Britney and I are in the lounge room, Lollie stumbles away into her room, muttering something bout the room spinning.

Twnty minutes pass. Britney and I are gas bagging like we're at school camp when we hear this godawful sound. Sorta like someone shouting into a toilet bowl. It is the unmistakeable sound of a twenty something redhead hurling, and at the same time yelling obscenties.

Britney and I dont know how to react, so we laugh first. After a good ol' chuckle, the guilt sets in and we decide to check on her. Needless to say the poor lass was all
"I'm fine, I'm fine... I'm just vomiting really loudly and violently"

So after the exhirating walk from the sofa bed to the bathroom, I'm all awake and spent the next twenty minutes staring at the ceiling, thinking about how fucked (as in tired) I'm gonna feel for the punk/hardcore concert the next day.

For the rest of the story, mosey on down to
Sex, Drugs & Call Centers
Where drunken bliss is only a mouse click away.

*Muzza = a sub-human species of teenager completely covered in grease. They typically sport some form of tracksuit and only have a primitive grasp on the english language, preferring to communicate using a complex series of grunts. Muzzas are native to many regions of Melbourne, and can most often be found within the vicinity of a McDonalds fast food restaurant.

the end.


Blogger izchan said...

I had a funny response all typed out but decided that I will not make another britney spear joke.

as it is demeaning to the person who is indicated as being a britney spear.

I hope your friend feels better.

and all a plumber ... after a few hurls ... the pipes tend to get cloged really fast.

3:53 AM  
Blogger Lollie_Pop said...

My god I didn't realise I was such a tragedy on Sat night. My apologies... even tho it was a blast hehe


11:57 AM  

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