infoxicated

Rachel and Andy’s Hen / Stag night took place on Saturday night just gone. No sooner had Fliss and I arrived in York, than Andy was driving me and a couple of his friends into the maze of the town center to begin the evening’s festivities.

After ditching the car we walked for an asbolute age before settling into what must have beent he most expensive pub in York. Still, no matter, the beer flowed as fast as the constant stream of hen night attendees through the front door. What is it with that place? Is there some kind of mass proposal thing that takes place each year in York?

There were loads of them – mutton dressed as lamb, for the most part, in all shapes and sizes. Mostly large sizes, to our horror.

As the night wore on the girls met up with the guys at some pokey pub somewhere in the town center, a bit of a break from tradition, but Andy and Rachel are hardly the most traditional couple – and that’s the way I like them!

From then on the rest of the night for me is pretty much a blur. It did include the bizarre and exceptional occurrence of Fliss taking me to get a kebab to try and soak up the drink. Sadly I was a bit too drunk to appreciate the uniqueness of the situation at the time (Fliss hates me buying kebabs – something about them being unhealthy), but not so drunk that the kebab came straight back up, which is always a bonus.

Anyhow, I got lashed to the extent that I spent all of Sunday paying for my endeavors – it was five in the evening before I felt well enough to drive home, and when did get back I spent the rest of the evening watching the Indy Racing and sipping water.

Mental note: take it easy at the wedding on Friday.

With our vacuum cleaner recently making good its departure to the great vacuum cleaner skip in the sky, Fliss and I went out in search of a new one at the weekend there.

Fliss wanted a Dyson, naturally, the creme de la suck of vacuum cleaners and the bane of the once mighty Hoover. I, however, didn’t want to shell over ?200 on something that Fliss would probably thrash into the ground within a year, so there was a bit of give and take to be had.

The “give” was a reasonable ?195 for a Dyson DC07, the “take” part of the deal was my very own kick–ass, chrome–panelled, undisputed power house of the four–slot bread browning arena — the Tefal Avanti Deluxe 4 Slice!!11!

Now, for some reason, I’ve always wanted a four slice toaster. I don’t know why, to be honest, but to me a four slice toaster just says “No… I’m makin’ breakfast” with authority that a two slice toaster couldn’t even dream of. You know what I’m saying? Like, a grill… not happening – the chances of it being clean in the first place are slim, so your toast ends up all flavoured with some shitty burger you made a month ago. And then you have to turn it over mid way through the toasting process, which is just a chore we can do without in this day and age.

On Friday just gone I accompanied Fliss and her colleagues on a works night out to Rawhide comedy club in Liverpool. We’d been to Rawhide before, although this time the venue had moved from the Albert Docks area to a less lavish location at the top end of the city center. The new location was well received by myself – it’s less intimate than the old one, but by the same token it’s not as pokey and you can actually make your way to both the toilets and the bar easily. Not that you really had to fight your way to the bar, though, due to the attentive table service – just give them some plastic to stick behind the bar and it’s full steam ahead from then on.

The comedians were of a better standard than last time, too – the host, Mick Ferry, interacted well with the audience and helped to liven things up with some good one-liner’s. The three main acts, I thought, increased in quality as the night went on – with the wickedly vulgar aussie Jim Jeffries rounding off the night.

Somehow we ended up in the Walkabout until it got very late after finishing up at Rawhide – when an evening out starts off as well as it did there, it’s hard not to keep on trucking after the event.

Although, yeah, I did pay for it all day Saturday. The worst part was having to get up and drag myself into town to get the car back from the car park I’d left it in. After that was done and dusted the rest of the day was spent wishing the world was a much quieter place. ;o)