Sunday, October 19, 2008
Meanwhile
I love a good party, even (especially?) one that ends at *ahem* Hip-E club dancing around a pile of books. I had planned a decent write-up to illustrate just how old-as-fuck I'm getting but, screw it, if you can still a)catch a PARTY BUS 100 metres down the road b)dance at Hip-E with minimal shame c)realise you are literally dripping with sweat only as you step out of said club and into the cold street... then how old can you be, really?
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7 comments:
Somewhere between 19 and 65?
But I... hey, HEY!
I don't know how old you are kateo (or at least, I'll never tell), but I'm still sore two days later so I must be at least a hundred years older.
You will know your old when even contemplating going to the HipE makes your spine cringe. The horrid smell, the overflowing toilets, fear of being glassed, the weird eyed amphet users.....
Now a good night out is sitting on the couch, sipping a glass of bourbon, and remembering the good ole days when they still played AC/DC at nightclubs, and chicks were hot and not skinny Paris Hilton wannabes.
I'm still shaking my head. Hip-e club??? All I can say is I'm glad I wasn't aware you were heading there, because I probably would have come along.........
That pirate dude is still giving me the wiggins.
Observer... Oh yeah it's only just occurred to me that's why my muscles were sore on Saturday. Jesus, that's a bit pathetic.
Beccas...You're not wrong. But it just felt so right...
cb... you missed out, tiger. But at least you still have your dignity
oh, I still managed to lose my dignity over the weekend, don't worry about that ;-)
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