about convincing a disguise as a giraffe in dark glasses trying to get into a polar bear only goth club

Ok, I used to have a rule, and it was this: “never post while drunk”. Long, and frequently painful, experience has taught me that things tend to get said, and things done, when I am drunk, that I will regret for ever and a day when sober. My sentence structure also goes even more to hell in a handcart when under the influence.

But, because I am drunk, I have decided to ignore this rule.

(Oh, any typos etc, just consider the result of more alcohol than I usually drink in one evening, and having sore feet from all the dancing.)

How many computer (and archaeology) geeks can you fit in a goth club? No, this is not the start of a bad joke, though the result was humourous, but rather what was attempted this evening. In the end, we decided that the optimum number was five: the Cute Canadian; Jeff; the Nordic Ninja; Neko; and myself. We also had some honorary geeks: the Raven Master; Liz; the Nordic Ninja’s flatmate who’s name I never totally got; and the Irish Lass. Plus assorted gamer-types who came attached to Neko’s SO.

First port of call – a lovely little pub called The Hobbit (I kid you not!) with various themed drinks including a Red Orc and a Gollum. Then it was on to The Dungeon. Lovely little goth club. I feel very pathetic admitting this, but the last time I had a proper night out with the drinking, and the dancing, and the head-banging, was nigh on a year ago up in Liverpool, so I was about due a good dance. So I danced. Tee hee. The Dungeon is a great little place. Small dance-floor, but big enough to, you know, dance on with your mates. Neko’s SO has long hair and cleared the floor every time he started thrashing. Useful when wanting to get rid of creepy older guy who insists on dancing WAY too close.

Among the notable incidents of the evening were:
1) The Cute Canadian finding out he is referred to as the Cute Canadian. He’s been reading this blog for like months now, and hadn’t twigged?!
2) Trying to teach Jeff how to dance. Not gonna happen this side of Hell suddenly becoming a ski resort. Got some funny pictures (hopefully) which, pending approval of all parties, might get posted. Fingers crossed, because it was funny!
3) The Raven Master’s bird impressions. He does a damn fine raven and peacock. Hence the name. He chose it.
4) The Nordic Ninja turning into a Tickle Monster and attacking everyone in sight. So this was more funny when it wasn’t me she was tickling, but to see both Jeff and the CC cowering on the floor and shrieking like little girls was worth it!
5) Um… Yeah, there were more funny moments, but it does help if (a) you know the people and (b) were there. Since most of you were the other side of the world, I think I will stop now. Plus, it’s like three in the morning, and I have lots of articles to read tomorrow… today! One’s all about technological fetishism. That’s funny in my head right now, which is about as good an indicator as any as to how much I drank.
Oh, I will say 6) The Cute Canadian promising to get me some yoghurt covered pretzels on his latest trip to Canada (his plane leaves Heathrow at around midday today!) and also insinuating there might be feloniously acquired penguin-related goods as a treat just for me. Ah, the guy is perfect. Yoghurt covered pretzels, and felonious penguins. What more could a girl want in a man?

Now, if you will excuse me, I am off to drink yet another pint of water in a vain attempt to stave off the hangover I can already feel starting, have a shower to remove the beer I got drenched in (for some reason, most nights out I end up getting drenched in somebody’s beer. Perhaps it’s being so short? Anyway…) then to sleep, perchance to dream. I have odd dreams when I’m drunk. Hey ho.

Buenos Noches 🙂

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