Day two of a three day binge

The severity of my hangover demanded that I bandage on a fry-up with brutal urgency. I’d braved the mystery of the meat slices at the Chorlton Café before, so I figured I’d opt for the vege breakfast to try it out too. The fried bread was heavy-duty, but otherwise it hit the spot. The rougher the hangover, the rougher the breakfast solution, so they say.



I bumped into Chaw’s friend that I’d watched the football with once or twice on the way home. Unfortunately, I didn’t remember his name.

“Are you watching the United game later on DTRMCR?”
“Erm… yes, I think so..er…mate. Are you?”
“Yes, somewhere round here. Do you want to meet up?”
“Okay er… mate…”
“Do you want to take my number?”

I gave him my phone to put the number in. He didn’t put in his name. The fucker was testing me. I smiled, and just put “Chaw’s Friend.” As soon as I got home, I texted Dunk, who thankfully was able to rescue me. Phew! Watching the football with John, as it happens, was a much better experience than I’d imagined. I always found him a bit smug, but once we got talking, it wasn’t as bad. His family are from Gleadless in Sheffield. I warmed to him by the third pint.

Hi remember me? I’m your hangover! Bleugh! It felt lethargic, so I went for a cider instead of a lager. The sugar pepped me up. If anything, it pepped me up too much. It was Pervy’s birthday, and – despite the fact that Sonicka was encouraging me – I fear that my bodypopping could have been out of place in the Met. I had a brilliant evening with Liz, her housemates, and some of her Uni friends. Lucinda’s hair was outstanding. She and I had an interesting chat in the garden after the pub had closed. I didn’t learn anything new from it, but it was important nonetheless.