I'm back. Firewall problems abound. I'm not even going to give you a run down of what's been happening since April, suffice to say that I've been having fun and that life is good. I'm not even sure whether this will post through the firewall, but it's illegal here, apparently... BREAKIN' THE LAW!.. BREAKIN' THE LAW! So anyhow, for the last couple of weeks I've been using May's Mum's car as she's nicely lent it to us so we could drive it to Norfolk for May's recent birthday. (Her actual birthday evening was spent at the new Conran restaurant, Boundary in Shoreditch. May had fish, I had entrails. The wine was good.).. Norfolk was fun fun fun. The weather hung out for us to all go swimming, surfing, bike riding, blue grassing, seal watching and sailing.. Oh, and drinking. Trying to beat the clock for a last drink at the local before tidy-up time, we arrived with seconds to spare but gave up and tucked into warm wine we'd brought with us. That Thursday night was spent dancing, Zoe and Ian were like the he and she in Grease with May and I combing our hair behind them. I suppose a Sharks and Jets analogy might work here. The following day we woke and sped off top speed on various bikes. Within minutes we were lost and minutes after that May had a blowout and we had to leave poor ol' Hercules in a hedge and ride backy with the Carribean Dream (Honestly, what a name for a bike!)... We made it finally to the pub in Cley. We couldn't find the cider garden so we sat in the beer garden. Four pints of Aspalls later and we were driving (driving!?) to Wells where in the fog we found our way to the sea and to somebodys propped up surfboard. We had a good 20 minutes before the guy came back and demanded we get off it. One quick vinegar-swiping stop off at Cookies and we were soon shovelling shellfish into our hungry mouths. That evening was hilarious. Bearing in mind we had been drinking mostly all day, we managed to make it over to the village hall to see the local Bluegrass band. It didn't take us long before we were dosie-doe-ing with the locals. I've never sweated so much from swinging sixty year olds around! On our walk home, we get the phonecall from the gays who had driven from Newcastle to get there. They turn up refusing help with the heavy luggage in the back of the car, so we get in and open more wine. 20 minutes later there's a knock on the door and a surprise arrival from Helen who was hiding under the luggage all along! Cheeky Helen. As we'd assumed she couldn't make it and she had, we cracked open more wine to celebrate. Urgh. My head the following morning hurt. Luckily so did everyone elses. Plus it was raining so we didn't make it out until afternoon which was fine. We headed back to Wells beach after the rain had stopped to hang out on the sand dunes. Safe... Soon afterwards though we found ourselves going back to the same beer garden for some more cider. We weren't quite so wild though and only offended a few of the locals this time. That evening we decided to have a barbeque instead of eat more seafood. It was all nice and mellow and we chatted politely whilst waiting and waiting for the food to cook. After a cheeky burger we made it to the local, all the while being teased with tunes from Grease floating in from a neighbouring house. We'd presumed it was a wedding and tryed our luck. It turned out it was the poshest wedding in the world and of course they welcomed a bunch of scruffy pissed kids. Did they fuck. I barely even managed to smell the smoke of the top-hatted guy's cigar before being ushed out by the mother(fucker) of the bride. On the way back through the beer garden we befrended some posh kids and brought them back to the balcony for beers. After we'd run out we made local lad go back to his granny's house and pinch all the wine. It was late when we finally got to bed.. And I hurt the following day again. Three days of boozing hurts. I'm no spring chicken. That Sunday we managed to lever ourselves out and down to the harbour so we could board the boat to take up out to see the silly seals. So cool... So worth it. After a pork roast afterwards we were in the cars heading home. A good good weekend and a bad bad head because of it! Right Jake, I'll be more together now. Expect regular updates of my whereabouts every hour on the hour. I hope this thing fucking works through the Firewall now. I've been typing for fucking ages!
Friday, 3 July 2009
Just for you Jakie...
I'm back. Firewall problems abound. I'm not even going to give you a run down of what's been happening since April, suffice to say that I've been having fun and that life is good. I'm not even sure whether this will post through the firewall, but it's illegal here, apparently... BREAKIN' THE LAW!.. BREAKIN' THE LAW! So anyhow, for the last couple of weeks I've been using May's Mum's car as she's nicely lent it to us so we could drive it to Norfolk for May's recent birthday. (Her actual birthday evening was spent at the new Conran restaurant, Boundary in Shoreditch. May had fish, I had entrails. The wine was good.).. Norfolk was fun fun fun. The weather hung out for us to all go swimming, surfing, bike riding, blue grassing, seal watching and sailing.. Oh, and drinking. Trying to beat the clock for a last drink at the local before tidy-up time, we arrived with seconds to spare but gave up and tucked into warm wine we'd brought with us. That Thursday night was spent dancing, Zoe and Ian were like the he and she in Grease with May and I combing our hair behind them. I suppose a Sharks and Jets analogy might work here. The following day we woke and sped off top speed on various bikes. Within minutes we were lost and minutes after that May had a blowout and we had to leave poor ol' Hercules in a hedge and ride backy with the Carribean Dream (Honestly, what a name for a bike!)... We made it finally to the pub in Cley. We couldn't find the cider garden so we sat in the beer garden. Four pints of Aspalls later and we were driving (driving!?) to Wells where in the fog we found our way to the sea and to somebodys propped up surfboard. We had a good 20 minutes before the guy came back and demanded we get off it. One quick vinegar-swiping stop off at Cookies and we were soon shovelling shellfish into our hungry mouths. That evening was hilarious. Bearing in mind we had been drinking mostly all day, we managed to make it over to the village hall to see the local Bluegrass band. It didn't take us long before we were dosie-doe-ing with the locals. I've never sweated so much from swinging sixty year olds around! On our walk home, we get the phonecall from the gays who had driven from Newcastle to get there. They turn up refusing help with the heavy luggage in the back of the car, so we get in and open more wine. 20 minutes later there's a knock on the door and a surprise arrival from Helen who was hiding under the luggage all along! Cheeky Helen. As we'd assumed she couldn't make it and she had, we cracked open more wine to celebrate. Urgh. My head the following morning hurt. Luckily so did everyone elses. Plus it was raining so we didn't make it out until afternoon which was fine. We headed back to Wells beach after the rain had stopped to hang out on the sand dunes. Safe... Soon afterwards though we found ourselves going back to the same beer garden for some more cider. We weren't quite so wild though and only offended a few of the locals this time. That evening we decided to have a barbeque instead of eat more seafood. It was all nice and mellow and we chatted politely whilst waiting and waiting for the food to cook. After a cheeky burger we made it to the local, all the while being teased with tunes from Grease floating in from a neighbouring house. We'd presumed it was a wedding and tryed our luck. It turned out it was the poshest wedding in the world and of course they welcomed a bunch of scruffy pissed kids. Did they fuck. I barely even managed to smell the smoke of the top-hatted guy's cigar before being ushed out by the mother(fucker) of the bride. On the way back through the beer garden we befrended some posh kids and brought them back to the balcony for beers. After we'd run out we made local lad go back to his granny's house and pinch all the wine. It was late when we finally got to bed.. And I hurt the following day again. Three days of boozing hurts. I'm no spring chicken. That Sunday we managed to lever ourselves out and down to the harbour so we could board the boat to take up out to see the silly seals. So cool... So worth it. After a pork roast afterwards we were in the cars heading home. A good good weekend and a bad bad head because of it! Right Jake, I'll be more together now. Expect regular updates of my whereabouts every hour on the hour. I hope this thing fucking works through the Firewall now. I've been typing for fucking ages!
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