The Delights Of Homegrown Pubs and Lobsters
Went out last night to the joy that is my hometown. Pub with karaoke. Pub with cheap drinks. Pub with crap music. Pub stuffed full of hooligans who think that having a fight when on a night out is the highlight of any week. Pub stuffed with underage girls who think that sex with said hooligans is highlight of any week.
Me? I tend to get very drunk, laugh with my rapidly diminishing group of friends who are still living in hometown, dance for ages (usually on my own as I feel repressed when dancing with other people, especially male friends who can't dance for shit) and go home. And eat sandwiches with far too much mayonnaise in.
Tried chatting up possible queerboy who had attached himself to our group. Thought he was possibly gay as had good haircut, looked like he looked after himself and seemed far too asexual with girl best friend. Came out casually in the conversation. Didn't get any response. Went off to dance.
Was out with Cambridge Giant, Repressed Homosexual Army Boy, Under-the-Thumb, Too Cool For Whatever and Cirrhotic Offy Manager. Had quite a good night really, but only because we embarked on a mini pubcrawl, and therefore spent little time in each pub. Cirrhotic Offy Manager had to go home early because he's ironically a lightweight. Under-the-Thumb spent most the night on the phone to his missus and went home about midnight with Cambridge Giant. Too Cool For Whatever spent his time milling about with different people (too cool to stay with one group of friends all night obviously). Repressed Homosexual Army Boy, whom I've slept a couple of times and still claims to be 100% straight, kept looking me in the eye, got his cock out and flailed it round the pub, and then drove home drunk. Me, sitting high up on my horse, decided that I'd rather pay £6 for a taxi, than endanger other people on the drive home. I don't think he could give a fuck about anyone but himself. He has these extreme right-wing views. He sees people who aren't white as something he can tread on, and then complain about the damage to his shoes. He's the kind of friend that you hang on to because you've known them for 15 years, as opposed to because you actually respect them on enjoy their company.
On a lighter note: am going to Spain on holiday next week. I rarely go on holiday these days, you can't afford to when you've maxed out two student overdrafts, have spent all the student loan, and have no credit cards. Thank god. I dread to think what would happen if someone gave me a credit card. Probably try and buy as much of my hometown as possible and have it bulldozed and have some sheep and cows installed instead.
In addition to being skint, I also burn in about five minutes when placed in direct sunlight. A bit like a Gremlin with skin. And freckles. So my options for holidays are a) lie under a large umbrella b) go sightseeing or c) go somewhere cold. Option a) has always seemed a bit pointless. Option b) is tempting, but then I realise that I'm very lazy. Option c) is one I have yet to try out.
I'm only going with option a) because a university friend has a place over there with a pool, suggested the holiday, booked me my flights, and is probably taking me to the airport and back. God I'm such a leech. Heh. I'm going to slather myself in factor 5000 and read The Stand all week.