Chewbacca's blog! Genius.
Yesterday was my birthday! Who cares? Not me! I did have a pleasant evening, though, of much drunkenness. At the end of the night SiC and Dangle decided it would be really funny to make out with each other. Whilst at the time it did seem funny, now I wonder whether there's anything BF and I should know.
A Canadian girl in the pub overheard me talking (it's, er, rather hard not to) and accosted me in the toilets. "Hey! Are you Canadian?"
"Yeah dude! You too?"
"Yeah! Can I come join you for a beer?"
This brought the tally to four Canadians and one Englishman. Poor bastard. Inevitably, within minutes the four of us had launched into a deafening rendition of the 'Hockey Night in Canada' theme song: SiC looked like he wanted to hide under the table, and the barman actually came over and shushed us. He shushed us. In a pub. DUDE IT IS NOT CHURCH. (If it were, come to think of it, we'd probably have been singing the same song. Some things are sacred.) We huffily decamped back across the street to the Powers, where people regularly roll joints at the bar and walk on the tables and where I once saw a guy actually piss himself and stillnot get kicked out. Obviously a much finer establishment, so long as you don't mind getting your feet wet.
You'll be pleased to hear I have now received my new bank card, a mere two weeks from when I lost the old one. The administrative skills of the Royal Bank of Scotland are truly awe-inspiring. You may remember that I was not permitted to inform my bank of my change of address over the phone, and that I could therefore not have the new card delivered to my house; but that the bank did agree to send the card to my office. So after waiting the requisite five business days for the card to wend its way to my branch (presumably on the back of an arthritic donkey), I called the bank and asked to have it sent to my work address. Which they happily took down over the phone. I was going to ask the clerk why it's permitted to accept a work address by phone but not a home address, but I was afraid he might become confused and shove the card up his ass instead of putting it in the mailbox.
I think I'm going to celebrate the fact of having money at my disposal again by parting with a whole fuck of a lot of it. Drinks are on me! You're all invited!