St353 is avisiting and brought me a nice spanking new keyboard so I no longer have any excuses to miss my Ms or anything that requires a shift key.
Ate kebab. yum.
Drank copius beer, tarted up, went out to the Underworld.
Met Burnsie aka “signing on bloke” and potentially arranged a midweek drinking session. I think I may regret this but what the heck.
Oh yes, and happy birthday to Rebecca, the lovely Birthday Girl who was the very reason for this drunken jaunt.
But I skip these frivolties to cut straight to the chase, indeed, the highlight of the evening where we treated St353 to a joyeous bus ride home through the Freshers chaos to the sanctuary of West Didsbury.
Matt managed to incite the whole bus to performing a rendition of “New York, New York”. A terrifying moment.
We watched a girl on a mobile phone fall down the double decker stairs, capture a stray glo-stick that was rolling around on the floor, and joyously announce to her friend with whom she was conversing on the mobile phone “yay! I got you a pressie!”
While simultaneously random person at the back shouted, “This is Mother Fucking, my mother fuck fuck fucking mother fucking friend”.
Traversed through the Freshers being kicked out of the Academy, watched several people bounce off the side of the bus as they failed to quite make the stop in time.
Managed to resist the temptation to stop off in Rusholme for a quick curry.
Got kicked off ourselves at the Job Centre and scurried home to the sound of breaking glass.
Ain’t Manchester grand?