first words of wisdom from a wise old 41 year old.
I woke up the next morning with the mother of all hangovers. I had small glasses (why in English, the word glass means so many things?) and so I thought I was drinking small amounts of gin and tonic (my happy, I-don’t-think-I-can-carry-this-party-off drink). In my mind, I know when to toe the line when it comes to drinking. On my forty-first year on this planet, I learnt that I haven’t a fucking clue.
The first thing I uttered was “Sweet Jesus. Please tell me I didn’t send him my phone number”. Yes, dear reader, to the first man to show interest in me on gaydar for a long time and to show me his penis to boot, I, in my inebriated state you understand, sent him my phone number.
People who make passes at drunk men in glasses will get telephone numbers.
Fortunately, the guy seems to be a respectable human being, but that story is boring.
Then I got up and checked what I had written. I was very surprised at the number of times it mentioned loneliness and thought that was interesting.
Write entries when you are plastered.
That evening, bolstered by being able to witness my party via the internet, my brother bought himself a webcam and microphone and the two of us spent a while on SKYPE chatting and playing chess. During our conversation, his wife came in and read him the riot act about wasting time. She roared and screamed. I switched off my microphone. I would never stand to be treated by anyone like that.
Which reminded me of my entry on loneliness.
Sometimes, loneliness ain’t half bad.
Thanks to REBOOT, A TRICK MIND, BRAIN DUMP and BRICKS ON THE RED (the latter two are on blogspot). I’ve lost interest in diaries as such, but I usually pop into your sites every fortnight or so to catch up on what you are doing. As long as you people write, I’ll always be curious to know what you are up to. People I miss are REALLYTRULY (who I try to meet up with every time I’m in London) and the grand daddy of us all QUEERSCRIBE.
The first thing I uttered was “Sweet Jesus. Please tell me I didn’t send him my phone number”. Yes, dear reader, to the first man to show interest in me on gaydar for a long time and to show me his penis to boot, I, in my inebriated state you understand, sent him my phone number.
People who make passes at drunk men in glasses will get telephone numbers.
Fortunately, the guy seems to be a respectable human being, but that story is boring.
Then I got up and checked what I had written. I was very surprised at the number of times it mentioned loneliness and thought that was interesting.
Write entries when you are plastered.
That evening, bolstered by being able to witness my party via the internet, my brother bought himself a webcam and microphone and the two of us spent a while on SKYPE chatting and playing chess. During our conversation, his wife came in and read him the riot act about wasting time. She roared and screamed. I switched off my microphone. I would never stand to be treated by anyone like that.
Which reminded me of my entry on loneliness.
Sometimes, loneliness ain’t half bad.
Thanks to REBOOT, A TRICK MIND, BRAIN DUMP and BRICKS ON THE RED (the latter two are on blogspot). I’ve lost interest in diaries as such, but I usually pop into your sites every fortnight or so to catch up on what you are doing. As long as you people write, I’ll always be curious to know what you are up to. People I miss are REALLYTRULY (who I try to meet up with every time I’m in London) and the grand daddy of us all QUEERSCRIBE.