platic.

if i ever suggest going out on a sunday ever again. stop me.

the plan was for bizzle to come round and for us to go to boulevard for a few drinks and see nat.

when bizzle turned up, we did 4 shots of corky's white chocolate.

then a pint of cider for me & a vodka and coke for biz.

we then plodded onto the tavern where i started drinking jager. bad plan.

a brief trek to the boulevard where i consumed 6 double sailor jerrys and cokes

and a think a shot of absynthe. im not sure if i only suggested it..

when onward to gay night at baa bar. where 3 bottles and 8 shots occured.

then what i thought was the final stop, was chicago rock.

where i fell down the stairs, oh, and up them. danced like a tosserm and drank stupid amounts of cider.

oh no, i dont remember leaving and being carried to fever (which was my suggestion)

i merrily plonked myself on a bar stool and started to drink vodka.

the only thing after this point that i remember is almost kicking seven bells out of clare condon

falling backwards off the bar stool & chatting utter crap.

and i remember being on the floor for the majority of the time.

i woke up this morning with my hands covered in tiny, very sore cuts.

im assuming i fell over in fever onto broken glass.

last night was single handedly the worst drinking experience ive ever had.

worse than being 14 and getting bladdered off 4 litres of frosty jacks and waking up with fake tan on one arm and lieing in ketchup..

oh & im quitting college. bad times.

but work on friday was amazing. :) good times.