hathycol | (no subject)

Apart from birthday fun, I'm so fucking hungover. Saturday was a generally crap day as was in Homebase for eight hours. But I left after only seven and a half hours.

OH WHAT A REBEL I AM.

Well, it was empty and the manager okayed it. So off I went in the merry way of one who has been rude to stupid customers all day and enjoying it.

"I can't remember my pin. Can I sign?"
"Sure. If you're a shoplifter, I don't really care. I'm leaving next week and what kind of weirdo would buy lagging with a stolen credit card, anyway? Not like I see the profit."
"..."

"Excuse me, I'd like to return this paint."
"Okay, that's not a problem, but you'll have to go to customer services. *points*"
"What, that girl at the other till?"
"No. Over there. *points again*"
"What?"
"OVER AT CUSTOMER SERVICES."
"Where's that?"
"Under the really big sign saying customer services.*points*"
"What?"
"BIG SIGN. SAYS CUSTOMER SERVICES. REALLY, IT'S EASY."

Silly old people.

I went home, ate my mother lasagne which is the best thing in the world, and proceeded to quickly change and go out for Day's birthday. Except we ended up with his father and uncle. There is something worth pointing out here. His uncle is called Tony Butler. When I was 8, I went with my school to a camp called PGL. One of the helpers was called Mr Butler. He peered at me come chucking out time with the realisation that yes, I was the same Colleen with the mad hair who lost half a tooth.

This led n to girly shrieks of "OH WOW MR BUTLER HI."

I should explain that I was ratted, because I'd been drinking this vile wine and then had some vodka. Argh.

We went the Arriba again... not sure why but I suspect it was a good idea at the time. Jess and Day had something of an argument in the middle, which led to be spending much of the night petting Jess sympathetically until a random drunk bird did a better job than I did. Weird.

We then went to the skate park for old times sake and watched the stars and squealed because we saw our first ever shooting stars. In the end, I rolled through the door about about 2am.

I'm somewhat hungover and I watched the cricket with Dad this morning, and bewailed Dead Robin Cook. It's a shame, it really is. I found out last night, but I was pissed. Didn't count. I'm hungry now, while we're on the subject, and a Sunday roast is being made. I can smell it. We even have homegrown beans. Oh, lovely. Ir it would be if I wasn't so hungover.

~Hathy_Col~