Sober Festivalling: Surviving The Messy Twats In Bucket Hats

Man! It’s been a LONG time since I’ve found a spare minute to do some writing. Let me tell you a bit about what I’ve been up to:

  • Trying to buy a house. Been trying since Xmas. Still trying. Fuck estate agents, and absolutely FUCK solicitors. All of them. In their buttholes. Forever and ever. Amen.
  • Working. Always. On projects at work, and projects at home. Until eventually I will die and then (maybe) I can stop working.
  • Running and climbing. I’ve climbed 2 or 3 times per week since I first discovered it about 4 years ago, and I’ll probably always climb because I fucking love that shit, but RUNNING I totally fell out with last year after doing a few half marathons and then getting dismayed with the amount of training needed to increase my fitness – so I quit, got fat, got upset about being fat, and now I’m BACK baby. And actually, I’ve really missed it – not just the fitness aspect, but also it’s nice to get 30 minutes alone with your thoughts whilst you pound the pavements. I use this time to ponder the important questions in life, like WHY DID I CALL MY TEACHER ‘MUM’ THAT TIME WHEN I WAS TWELVE AND THE WHOLE CLASS HEARD ME GAHHHH.
  • Eating. Hence the return to running.
  • Telly. Watching and re-watching the holy quaternity of comedy programmes:
  • Gigs. Not got to as many gigs as I usually do, but HOLY GLITTERY SHITBALLS we saw Rammstein at our local arena a few months back and the German bastards blew my cock and balls RIGHT OFF and also singed my pubes too with their massive flamethrowers. There’s just a burned, bloody stump there now.
  • Weddings. It’s been awesome to see a couple of old mates get hitched, and I managed to survive both weddings completely sober. BOOM.
  • Waiting. For the British ice hockey season to start again. I am so excite. So, so excite.

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My First Hangover In Almost Four Years

Okay, full disclosure; it wasn’t a hangover, but holy freakin’ novelty shitballs did it have all the attributes of one: Brain fog, dehydration, jitters, horrible gurgly stomach, daunting paranoia, cold sweats, yep… the works. Oh and I also had somewhere very important to be where I was expected to be well turned out, sparkly eyed, and ON IT like the, er… Wallace and Gromit.

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