All right, still a bit drunk, so here’s the output of tonight, an amazing night. I was cycling home and I said hey to a fellow cyclist. He said hey back, we started talking. He was a gay guy, a bit ovely friendly but hey, I’m in London. And then he had this idea of having a drink at his place. Why not, it’s in the way.
His name was Alastair, an actor. His place was amazing. Huge, an amazing roof and all that. Music, vodka. A bit uncomfortable, as I’m not gay, but ey, I’m in London. Had a few drinks, talked so much shit, more he then me. Don’t even remember half of it. And then it turns out, he was in Skins! Bloody hel! We was the gay/notgay fiancee of the psychologist girl with the tits. I’ll look up her name once there’s internet (Angie). Amazing. He’s very insecure, was kind of rambling all the night. As he is 52, way fit for his age, he soon passed out. I put him to bed, then left.
On my way home, on a bike, drunk, I ran a red light. Not unusual, but this time, a car passed me as I was going. Not any car, but a POLICE car. Yeah. They kinda noticed, came after me and pulled me over. I was drunk scared. They told me off harshly, thought they’re going to fine me. But luckily, just shrill words. But very intimidating.
Two girls, sitting on the pavement saw me, invited me to sit with them. Lindsey and Amy, two Irish girls. We talked about… something. And then livepoolian Andy joined us. Someone had weed, we got stoned and after a while they left. Me too. Lost my lighter, but it was a good night.
That’s the true telling of what happened. Yay.
This post has been sober-corrected 🙂