I was going through my notes on the iPad last night, and
discovered a single page with six words typed on it.
They read: “Monkey description, work out their age!!!”
I could not for the life of me remember why I had written it. It looked as though it had been written a week ago, at about
1am. But that’s silly, because I was nowhere near a monkey last weekend, that I
know of. I was in the pub and…
Oooooohhhhh. A light bulb flicked on in my head, and then
exploded in the fog of ethanol fumes.
It appears that I’d had one of my trademark ‘brilliant ideas’.
My brilliant, booze-fuelled moments of inspiration that must be recorded, lest we
all forget and never know what wonders might have been.
Everyone knows that humans, as a species, have their brightest ideas
while wasted on rum, and that nine wines only sharpens our wit and debating
skill. Yet it’s surprising how few people want to listen to me when I am at my
most insightful. Perhaps I just get too real for them, which is why they end up
nudging me away with a broom and suggesting I sleep on the sofa.
This is why I end up writing things down things. Unfortunately,
by the next morning, I erase all memories of the night before so that my brain can be entirely focused on accessing more bread.
Last night I checked my phone’s notepad, and my various
notebooks, for further kernels of delight.
Hmmmm. It appears that I have left quite the booze-soaked breadcrumb
trail of scribbles this year.
To brighten your day, here is what I have found on my
various devices so far.
From my phone
“Bipolar bear”
“Don't forget its car” (Whose car? Or what...)
From my notebook
“A game of chess” (I think this refers to the book, but I
wrote it in the middle of a blank page. It frightens me)
There were also many illegible scribbles in Teeline shorthand,
in which I am allegedly fluent.
One word appears to have a G, R, D and an X in it. I underlined it
many times.
From Twitter
Well it's...... hang on.....w wait wait!.....yes get more wine, you joke, I'm tweeting......ok.it's 1AM. And buttons, that's what.
— Sinead The Demon Gin (@thedemongin) March 2, 2014
From my iPad
(this is word for
word)
"We be at then second stage of drinking game.
“Drinking is like a video gamae. First level 20s & teens - easy, you could go all day.
"NOW you have to factor in naps and food. And far worse hangovers. Extra levels to vanquish Suddenly it's not so cool....."
Also…
"We be at then second stage of drinking game.
“Drinking is like a video gamae. First level 20s & teens - easy, you could go all day.
"NOW you have to factor in naps and food. And far worse hangovers. Extra levels to vanquish Suddenly it's not so cool....."
Also…
"What are you? What are you?!"
And also also...
"If Frankenstein created wine for Chuck Norris."
And also this. NO idea of the context but I will go out on a limb and assume my indignation was not warranted or noticed.
And also also...
"If Frankenstein created wine for Chuck Norris."
And also this. NO idea of the context but I will go out on a limb and assume my indignation was not warranted or noticed.
"Ohhhhhhhhh. Oh but OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. He KNOWS. I don't have to
say a word, because he KNOWS. Also, I NEVER get crazy, let me have this!
Well points. Points for later. Points for when I have decided to be so totally cool
in forgiving you, and points for when I need to remind you
what a dick you were in accepting my being so totally cool, when you should have
committed Japanese word for ritual suicide.
The word is 'Seppuku', Sinead.
What’s the worst, or best thing, you have written down while
drunk?
Any embarrassing texts, tweets or updates?
Share with me, tiny darlings.
I, too, share your savage breadlust. The second I get in through the door the first place I head* is the kitchen, where I proceed to eat all the bread in the house. Doesn't matter if it's my bread or someone else's fancy £3.50/400g artisan bread. I'm a carb monster. My housemates have actually started hiding it if they know I'm going to be home late.
ReplyDeleteOnce I wrote a note:
'I.O.U. 3 x bread rolls. I'm sorry, but I was drunk and they were carbs. xxx'
*After the downstairs loo, obviously, where I take my shoes off legs splayed on either side of the toilet for someone to find the next morning.
You, Curious Emily. You I like.
ReplyDelete