Happiness in being drunk

It's always nice to be told you are getting fat.  Especially by another person who is fatter than yourself.  And although I really should not bother about it, it does effect me.  So this evening I went out and had a walk, because for this week it seems visiting the gym just isn't on the cards.  Whilst visiting the pub has been, and yesterday I got drunk on my mere 3 pints.  But hell.  I was happy and being happy is one of the golden secrets of life.  So in my happiness I made a couple of phone calls to the ones I like to share my merry demeanour with.  Sparkling and then L & B Man.

I rang Sparkles, she was at home.  Or rather she actually answered the phone because she's been known to ignore it..  Yes, a little surprising.  I told her how I missed her and could of done with a hug.  I don't know what it is, but I got the feeling she was then trying to fob me off because she told me to ring L & B man.  I suppose when you are lucid a drunk man on the end of the telephone can be a pain in the arse.  I don't know why, but there it's there.  I felt it.  She also said I was now winding her up, which must be one of my many talents which comes out after a pint or two.  So I told her I loved her again and would ring L & B, for at this point her power of persuasion had worked.  I immediately ran Mr L & B man.  I was on the train at the time and it had quite a few people on it, but I really didn't care who overheard me.  L & B must have some kind of clairvoyance because I only said a couple of words and he asked if I had been in the boozer again.  One of the London gay pubs, because he thinks whatever pub I go to has got to be gay.  He then asked if I had spoken to Sparkling.  I said I had, his response was Sparkling must of told me to feck-off then which was why I was now ringing him.  Why this attitude I pondered again, what on earth is it sobre people have against the inebriated?  I did my duty and spread a bit more love and jollity to L & B and as I was having a problem listening to him on account of his telly being on in the background and not because of difficulty understanding his accent, then I thought it was best to leave him to his own devices.  I didn't realise but he was doing a little preparation for an interview.  I wouldn't of rung him up had I known.  I wished him luck and said I'd employ him.

Getting home I had a couple of cups of tea, watched some TV and hit the hay, feeling pretty good.  Happy, merry and still slightly drunk.  For some reason I could only read a couple of pages of my night time read, don't matter I'll catch up some more the next day.  I woke up this morning feeling not quite as good as when I went to bed, but it wasn't too bad.  It was even earlier a start to the day than the last week or so.  But one thing is so very true, drunk or sobre, happiness is still a big secret to life.  Lets not forget, seeing the cat as I open the kitchen door in the morning and finding he hasn't had a crap in his dirt tray.  Now I think of it.  Today was probably a pretty good one.