Suzie Shooter

Ngh. Ow. *puts on sunglasses*

You know you've been in Cornwall too long when: you walk unsuspectingly into "hillbilly night" in the pub, and don't look out of place...

Hangover Of Death.

Send help.

Quietly.

( So yes, it's only taken me a week to write up last weekend. )

( cut for length, rambling and Dylan spoilers )

Soyes. Saturday afternoon went down into Falmouth to peruse the Oyster Festival - to discover a certain three men lurking in the crowd. No, not those three....these three:

( Dara! Rory! Griff! And a fourth random oyster shucker! )

Next time would someone remind me that drinking beer, champagne and gin & tonic for eight hours is a bad idea?

*whimpers*

Went out to dinner last night, and if you can measure the success of an evening by the length of the resulting hangover, then it must have been a blinder! Or by the number of rather nice whisky glasses it appears you stole from the pub afterwards.

( Giles Coren eat your heart out )

( what appears to be mostly an account of what Suzie ate on her holidays )

Oh man, I haven't been this hungover in ages *whimpers*

I was going to do a longer post about m'evening out, but it'll have to wait until the pain goes away, LOL. I'll just leave you with the image that it included me accidentally setting a menu on fire...

Being unable to use the interwebs didn't stop the running commentary in my head, so I kept a diary. Um, no offence intended to any genuine teetotallers or vegetablists on my flist (seriously, how do you do it?), in what is, essentially, a week long rant...

( I want something's flesh )

Owww why did I drink so much yesterday? Because it seemed like a good idea at the time, obviously.

Anyway, had two fab meals out, and got a copy of Born To Be Riled for £3.99. Result!

Now if only I could have stayed in bed and read it, rather than having to drag my sorry arse into work this morning...

So you get to work, and they say "and where would you like to go for the drinks this evening?"

And you suggest a place (decent pub).

And they go ooh, no, don't like that, let's go here (hideously expensive wine bar) instead.

So you say, well it's *my* birthday.

Then they start making excuses and saying ooh, maybe we'll just come out later for the meal, but you go where you like, and we'll catch up later. So I'll, what? Sit there by myself for an hour and join you later? (actually it's looking like quite an attractive option)

Happily, we've found a compromise!

Am possibly being mean. They have given me *very* nice presents and as a double bonus I haven't actually had to do any work yet...