Hello darkness my old friend
Yawwwwwn, hello to you all again, you better brace yourselves and get ready for this thrilling installment in the boring, middle class, post-adolescent craptactular supershow of my life.
Last night for a change, I decided to throw on my Saturday night disco dancing attire (black shirt over grey long sleeve tee with Turbonegro button attatched, jeans and my new Nike Dunks lo-tops) and headed out with my brother and a couple of friends to Bridie O'Reilly's. Faux Irish "pubs" are bad enough, but once you make out like it's a club on weekends it's just 10 times worse, oh well they had Stella Artois on tap. The highlight for the night was the cover band, who destroyed a bunch of mainstream chart bullshit songs (I knew fuck all of them) and the singer would have had to have been one of the biggest tossmonkeys in recent memory. One foot on the foldback, microphone stand in hand trying to be Bon Scott whilst in metrosexual attire...nuff said. We left there about 3am, and headed to the casino, where I won a buutload on the pokies, lost a lot of it playing blackjack, won most of it back playing roulette and lost a bit more playing blackjack again. It was fun, and also the first time I'd ever been there, but I wont make a regular thing of it I like money too much to give it away.
We got home about 7-ish where I attempted to stay awake and keep drinking beer whilst becoming increasingly incoherent whilst talking to my parents, I managed to stay awake until 9am.
Then I woke up, fucked the cat, smoked some crack and went on a killing spree (the events detailed in this last sentence may or may not of happened, you decide)
So to you all I say farewell,
Ross