Eat My Shorts will be glad to know that after three long weeks, the four beers in my fridge were finally consumed over the weekend. A bandmate came down for a Saturday night drinking session and because a) He's Irish, b) He's a drummer, and c) He's a cop, the beers stood no chance of surviving more than a few minutes.
Speaking of coming down for the weekend, Ben Cousins was in my town with his girlfriend. I'm not just the only goth in town but I'm also the only Richmond supporter in town, and so minutes after Cuz's arrival I had people knocking on my door giving me updates on which cafe he was at, what he was wearing, how big his biceps were etc etc. On the one hand, I'm hardly a starfucker. On the one hand, I would love to meet him. On the other hand, the mysterious third hand, I would have nothing to say other than, "Hey, umm, yeah, I barrack for Richmond and, umm, you're playing alright for an old fella..."
But as my mate The Drummer was also a Richmond fan, we decided that if we went to the pub and he was there, we'd say g'day. But by the time we got to the pub we heard there had been some sort of 'incidcent' resulting in one man being evicted, and Ben Cousins having to leave because of the amount of drunken fuckwits hassling him. Poor guy. He and his girlfriend were just having dinner. But I wonder if he was thinking to himself, "I used to be a fuckwit, just like these guys..."
Anyway, me and the Drummer got apsolutely plastered. We were spastic. So, so drunk. I lost count of how many wines. At the pub, I got into a jovial 45 minute argument with two Irish backpackers over James Joyce, then I got into a half hour real argument with a chick whose boyfriend was on the famous Ocean Grove Footy Club bus when they went all neo-Nazi. Our argument became so heated The Drummer actually dragged me away, then, when he wasn't looking, I went back and argued more. Her argument seemed to be, "What the boys did was wrong, but you know, there's two sides to every story, and that Jew was after financial retribution and the thing is, he's already rich!" How could I resist? We made friends in the end and shook hands.
Then I danced to techno music. Yes, techno music.
Then me and The Drummer gate-crashed a party in a (closed) restaurant. I was seeing triple, but in fine spirit.
Then outside my house, at 2.30am, a gang of about ten girls from a hen's night stumbled past, as drunk as me. I was quietly having a cigarette trying to remember my name, and one of them came up to me and here, unedited, is the conversation:
Hen: Show me your dick.
Hen: Show me your dick and I'll show you my tits.
Me: How about you show me your tits, and I'll show you my tits.
Hen: No. Come on.
Me: No deal.
Hen: Fucken... Righto.
She then walked away with her friends. When they were about twenty metres away, she turned around and yelled, "One more try. Go on! From here!" And anyway, I was really really drunk, and I thought, "Ah, what the hell," so I unbuttoned and revealed. They all laughed and cheered and then the one who was supposed to show her tits yelled, "Sucker!" and they ran away laughing.
I walked into my house and found The Drummer, and Local Girl, who you may recall was the one a few weeks ago that I accidentally stood naked in front of (hmm, I'm detecting a pattern) and who took it the wrong way and jumped on me in my bed and I threw her off. Anyway, she went to the toilet and The Drummer said, "I fancy her," and then a bit later, he went to the toilet, and she said to me, "I fancy your mate" and I said, "Well, he fancies you," and anyway, he came out and I stood up and said, "Well, you both fancy each other, and you know where the spare double bed is... good night" and I went to bed. Anyway, this morning I discovered that all he did was walk her home and kissed her on the cheek. And I thought I was bad with women.
I was hungover all Sunday, and achieved nothing.
I am turning forty this week, but still acting twenty.