Wednesday, March 22, 2006


088: SPIKEY IRISH SHENANIGANS (Part 2)

Joe's Garage, located at the heart of Brunswick street's bohemian district, offers moderately attractive waitresses and great affordable food.
We arrived at the peak of the street's St Paddy's day festivities - the streets closed off by coppers responding to drunken folk dancing in the street. I was filled with regret as we walked past the cavalcade of cop cars, wishing I had seized my chance to dance in the street.

Champagne cocktails ensued, along with another stop for food. Lincoln piked and was hastily shoed away by a bitch faced waitress as he tried to sleep. We left Joes as most of the guys started heading home, but Hrisanthi and I had gotten ourselves into some deep conversation. Lincoln was seconded to the car for a snooze while we headed to the Old Bar.

Now the Old Bar is sorta what its like inside my head. Dusty, disorganised and unattractive. The bar wench wreaks of beer and pretzled bread as she shifts her bulbous mass around fixing drinks and just generally being surly.
There are abandoned pinball machines. Some sort of Islamic rifle game. Broken couches and miss matched glasses.
Ahhh…I was home.
Round this point of the night, I looked over at Hrisanthi who suddenly appeared extremely blurry. I knew it was time to stop drinking.
Ten minutes later I was sprawled over a fluffy white couch at Cue Bar. Serene chill out music played, and in my weary head, I slowly began to analyse the collective works of Charles Dickens. The last beer I had drank was like the final torpedo which does all the damage. Hrisanthi and I, like the two warriors left standing after a battle, melted into the couches and remained very, very still.
Thus ends my tale of marathon drunkenness. Twelve hours is certainly a record I'm gonna have to try and break next year. If all goes to plan, I'll be a no good student in March of next year, so I should have no trouble.
In closing, congratulations are in order to my mate Lincoln whose brother tied the know on the weekend!
And ten points awarded to Hoda who made a special effort to throw rocks at her ex as he was moving house last weekend!
So to all of you I wish a (belated) St Patrick's Day. I hope it brought you all many treasured (trashed) memories. At the very least I hope to god you did something fun!
the end.

7 Comments:

Blogger Denny said...

You telling me you drank for 12 hours and didn't get into a fight ????? Whats'a matter you ?

8:05 PM  
Blogger Slim said...

I was very tempted. Especially when it came to that godawful que at the mens room!!!

1:03 PM  
Blogger Slim said...

Oh yeah guys, please enjoy (for no reason) my photo of Vince, the crash dummy that I wanted from two entries ago.

1:07 PM  
Blogger bluemorning said...

I am surprised Slim you are alive to tell the story
12 hours!, whilst no doubt that is an achievement which deserve nobel congratulations- i hope to heaven you don't do that often

the world needs slim.always remember that.

6:27 PM  
Blogger Slim said...

Blue: fate protects idiots like me who decide to do this shit. Generally being more drunk was part of the new years resolution I made three months ago. But I dont get to drink that much. Maily cause I drive a lot.

And the world needs Slim??
Wish to God someone would let me know why!

9:10 AM  
Blogger mocushile said...

hahahaha.. Iam surprised that u remmbered all this!!!!

I would've just lost my memory from the 1st sip

and Hey Iam gald u like my vengenace. cause he doesnt seem to like it hehehehheh!!

4:36 PM  
Blogger bluemorning said...

slim
i've received notification from the 'world' - as to why the world needs slim.
apparently you bring happiness to people lives.
thats a fair enough reason in my eyes

11:15 PM  

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