somebody call for backup

So the journals begin with a foul amount of quality that was out on the town last night. What began as a 'quiet drink' with friends at 3pm turned into a loud mess and a taxi ride home at 11pm. We started the carbocide commiting afternoon off with a entree of irish potato skins, a side of garlic bread and of course, the old faithful, chips and aioli. 2 bottles of wine later the sun was setting and we were graced with frippling cold climates which meant we had to be moved somewhere hotter so our full exposure was not getting wasted. The bar wench (who had missed her calling as marylin monroe in drag), directed us to the downstairs street level which was atrocious and we decided it wasnt a very promosing 'people watching' position. So we progressed to the next cocktail bar, where Santana is a regular at the bar, and ordered the next round. My little bar friend suggested i order some 'sex on the beach' (minus the sandy crack) and the cackling began again. Now as history will show, apparently when classy women are sitting on bar stools,  laughing loudly and sipping cocktails, this supposedly symbolises they are screaming for random f*wits to come and display their lack of pickup lines to them.....as was proven! The male excuse of a human had a bothering leg twitch as he spoke to us fine ladies and this caused him to look as if he was hooked up to a string puppeteer on acid. Quite surprisingly, laughing in his face and cutting him off in conversation caused him to get the point very quickly and like a thief in the night, he was no-where to be seen after that.
My guilty pleasure was when an team of 4 mentally challenged people decided that the dance floor was calling them (wrong number) and wanted to display their version of GUMBA!! ( gumbies doing Zumba) It was like Lynda Blair crossed with a porno film and we were given a beautiful display of one certain female launching herself into the dj booth whilst landing on her 'fujitsu' and that was her ticket to jump the line and go straight to struggletown with two bouncers to show her the way.After many wines and cocktails, this can disturb the abilty to hold your 'lower lady muscles' together and your fear then becomes whether you WILL need a bed pan, NOT when the next 'fugly' will close in on you.

A fun filled spontaneous afternoon/evening but the icing was applied to the cake when i went to sit down on what i thought was a stable chain post and promptly fell on to my royal hot arse for the bouncers and pack of feral hens nighter's to absoutely loose it and i hung my head in shame......................."TAXI!!!!!!"