Hmmmm…

A big head cold again. Fair knocked me off my feet on Saturday so I had to spend the entirety of it in Turtle’s bed. Not such a bad thing. Incapacitation was nothing to do with the whisky consumed with relish on Friday. No.

Friday was an excellent evening and worth every drop of Saturday’s sweat.

Hels, Turtle and I boarded the vile National Express at 6pm - Cardiff bound for fun and frolics. Hels and I immediately made friends with some Somalian chavs in the back seat whilst Turtle bonded with a sweet geek next to him and the 3 & a half hour journey slipped by with much mirth.

The chavs declined our whisky (good muslim boys), but accepted a game of “kill fuck or marry”, told us where Somalia was on the world map, proclaimed loudly we were “quality”, invited us to a Somalian wedding, said my engagement ring was “pow”, said that Turtle looked like James Blunt who they quite liked and regaled us with stories of how their girlfriends had roasted their cat and posted the ear back to them.

Hels was particularly taken with Ty Reese, who was apparently an RnB singer although he refused to sing to us. They swapped numbers but I reckon he was only twelve so that’s a no go.

When we got to the club in Cardiff, Lorny was already falling all over the place and I was beyond speech – slurring meaninglessly when Turtle introduced me to his friends as his fiancé. Great.

Within a couple of hours we were all covered in bruises and the most hideously drunk people in the place not to mention the oldest. It was like a government advert regarding the dangers of binge drinking.

The rest of the weekend was fairly civilised….

Hels, Turtle and I spent a lot of Saturday in bed together as is traditional for bride, groom and best man.

Then Hels got stoned and hid her face in Turtle’s wardrobe.

We visited Pepe, the Mexican Welshman. Not successful due to a foul shark steak.

Had a fairly early night.

Consumed enchiladas and burritos for breakfast.

Went to see festival rich’s new baby (cute & chubby, good for snuggling) in Little Highton.

Then another bus journey home during which I spent most of it asleep on Helsy’s bosom making crooning noises until my ex phoned her mobile and woke me up and I had to tell him off.

Back to London, grey windswept and rude and another early night for the sake of my simuses….

Yada Yada.