Birthday Party

Being invited to an 18th birthday party on a Friday night is an unusual thing for me. It was full of various events, which would not happen in normal circumstances. Like Sparkling Eyes getting into a conversation with a pair of teenage Soprano's, they just had some kind of bent on killing, and suggested an underworld connection with a nefarious group. Well one of them did. Personally I think it was because they wanted to impress Sparkling Eyes. Seeing Rock Chick get so tipsy and even say things which could be held against her when she's sobre. Love is so free when it's been enticed from a bottle of alcopop. Screaming neighbours telling, not asking, there be no more fireworks, although they had all been let off. Asbo officials who wanted to issue a fine and an ASBO (Anti-social-behaviour-order), and of course police. One police woman with an attitude who wanted to arrest the hostess because the hostess dared to speak back and give an opinion. Problem is when the hostess was a little tipsy herself. Otherwise there would of been no excuse to lock her up and suit her in striped pajamas.


In my various stages of inebriation perceptions of events change. Knocking back each bottle of beer a different narrative occurs. The little voice in the back of my head gives a running commentary of what's going on. Sometimes it's so interesting I just sit and listen to it wishing I was writing everything down or even had a voice recorder. Problem is, the ramblings of a half drunk may very well be just ramblings of a half drunk to someone who is sobre. Unfortunately I never carry a pen and note pad either. Don't matter. But the routine is usually the same, beginning with 1. what do i say? 2. lets eat something. 3. I think I'll just sit here and 4. I am so pissed I love everyone. Such are the stages of inebriation. And of course a continuing annoyance at whoever is controlling the CD player because for some reason they keep skipping the tracks I like. BASTARDS!!!!

At just after 3 a.m. I escorted Sparkling Eyes back home. Rock Chick had walked ahead with her pal the hyper and probably drunk Effervescent Eva. We all slept in, Rock Chick had a hang over which lasted 2 days. Mine lasted a morning, Sparkling Eyes of course never gets one. Which must be something do with her constitution. As for Rock Chick even saying she loved me as a step-father, she later recanted this saying it was a comment she made so I'd get her lots of presents. Damn, an I believed it. Thing is when I'm drunk I can't help but speak garbage, truthful garbage. And then pass out my love to every Tom Dick and Henry about. Next time I'll take a tape recorder, not just for my benefit, I could blackmail other's later. Who knows what may come out. Personally, I hope they keep it tucked away and don't let it out unless it's on film, camera, or voicemail.