Last night ended with my friend (with tits) having to have her teeth cleaned because she was so pissed. It’s not something I’m too familiar with and you are free to picture a grown man bending down and cleaning a friends (w.t.) mouth. Shortly after she was helped to bed where she giggled herself to sleep.
Earlier I’d returned home following a fairly constructive day, the cycle journey home was taken with a colleague from work. We were doing skids, jumping humps and attempting wheelies as if 12, it was ace, if I’d had a packet of Spangles in my pocket and some Cream Soda in the fridge for when I got home I think I’d have been delirious. The subsequent exertion caused by shouting and cycling irresponsibly required me to sit with my head between my legs for 5 minutes when I walked in the door. I don’t remember that bit when I used to get in just as The Dukes of Hazard started.
I prepared supper, a sausage and bean number devised by Nigel Slater straight out of The Observer. My friend (w.t.) was late of course; it’s well known fact that tits make birds late (Though I would like to make the point that the size of tit doesn’t have a direct correlation to the degree of lateness, if this were the case the recent fad for breast enlargement would throw the whole fucking system into chaos?) When she did arrive she was on the phone to her sister, this is a disaster especially as this was the first time she’s spoken to her since a fucking hour ago or something. I was okay, I was enthralled in watching a red fat man on the brink of a stress related death in a Grand Designs repeat, and University Challenge kept me from coolly walking into the kitchen naked from the waist down, taking the phone from her hand and nonchalantly pushing it into my bottom which had been previously lubed up with face cream.
When she finally did get off the phone the evening unfolded itself in a most felicitous way. We drank a bottle of Moet while she opened a few presents (it was her birthday a few days ago) and then ate Nigel’s food. It was fucking gorgeous, after which we chatted with a few more bottles being tossed into the fray, we talked until she could talk no more (some laughter came out of our faces too) and it was shortly after that she was forced to retire.
I stayed up for a little while enjoying the resonance of the evening and made some corrections to the kid’s story I’ve been writing. A few hours earlier I’d read it too her. It was greeted with enthusiasm but the end upset her to the point I thought she might actually cry. So, after I’ve posted this I will get some work done and make a few corrections to the story.
This evening the story will to told to the teacher that suggested I wrote it in the first place and subject to correction, will be posted on here tomorrow. Maybe…