Street City Silence

So today was a very... erm, British day? Not quite, but just about. Woke up a bit late at around 11ish and just messed about for an hour. Then I watched Liverpool beat Man Utd in the FA Cup (with Tom, one of my flatmates, who's a Liverpool supporter). After that I retreated to my room and just listened to music and... erm... played Footy Manager (yes, I'm hooked again, damn it!). I was planning on watching the Newcastle Utd vs. Southampton match here in my flat because I didn't really fancy going out, but Steve rang me up and persuaded me to go down to the pub to watch it (because of the atmosphere, etc). So yeah, we go... we have quite a few drinks, Newcastle win so it's all good (nothing better than to watch a Newcastle match at the pub... it's really crazy) and then we head to another pub, Steve's favourite (I think he always goes there because the girl he likes works there... but she likes his flatmate, but that doesn't matter, apparently) so we have a few more drinks and we're a bit "unfocused" as neither of us had anything to eat in recent times, and we're trying to plan something for tonight. I wanted to go out to Bulletproof just because I felt like it, and Steve said he'd go, but he needed to grab a bite. So we ask for takaway (whilst walking back home) and I make myself some chips. I don't know what happens next, but eventually we run out of time to go out (cheaply, anyway... after 11 it's double the price) so I decide to call it a night, seeing I'm feeling very very heavy. I don't know what's the point of all this, really... I guess that you should never plan or cook while drunk (oh, yeah, I burnt myself quite a few times while cooking the chips). Damn alcohol.


Special thanks to Erc for reading most of my entries, and laughing while at it (or at least in his mind). And, btw, having a gf should encourage you to go to the dance thing... yep, public communication continues