pirates, karaoke and a splash of dry-red'

Last night was fun.

Luke had a gathering and 7 or 8 of us shown up. We kicked the night off with a crap, erm brilliant, Pirate film - a jolly good musical set in the dream of an 80's bikini babe, featuring pirates and policemen. Next up was an awesome real-life beavis/butthead sort of film titled 'Napoleon Dynamite'. All the while we were merrily drinking; mine's a lager and glass of wine, Garcon!

A string of short comedy sketch shows followed the films, including classics such as 'The Young Ones' and 'Peep Show'. Not long after these ended it was nearing the last train, meaning that a couple of the group had to bail. The remaining people decided karaoke would be a good call to round off the night. I totally agreed.

So, the karaoke began. And the drinking continued.

Karaoke rocked, I really love it though I'm absolute shite at pitch, remembering the words and singing in general. However, my singing seemed to be getting better as the night went on: a bizarre see-saw effect as the wine level in my bottle deplenished.

But alas, my singing was too good - or should I say, my brain was dying from alcohol poisoning, rendering my cat-like wails into angelic harmonies. At that point I decided it'd be a good idea to quit drinking, though it was too late: my fate of oncoming toilet-hugging was sealed. The next hour or so aren't so clear - the only images I can vividly recall contain a sickly stream of crimson vomit as I hacked up the once delicous wine from my defiled stomach, before deciding luke's bog would be a decent bedroom, and the toilet itself a decent pillow (which it was).

I woke up at about 5am, had some water and decided it'd be a good time to bail. Not far from Luke's house I collapsed, again. This time in someone's bush. I spent maybe 10 minutes in the bush, collecting my thoughts, and fortunatly not sharing any of them with it.

A few dry wretches later and I was set to go. I got home at about 6.20am, chatted with my dad for a bit, had a burger then went to bed.

A good night out. Minus the overdrinking. Never again. At least Until dinner, which was 8 hours ago.

PS, whilst at my dad's house I found a pile of golden oldy pics, including the following one that ties in to this post in an ironic, future-predicting sort of a way...