The Pre Saint Pat's Post

Going to post a few photos from Saint Patrick’s Day, realised that the night before could do with it's own post.

So anyway, I stumbled into Saint Patrick’s Day with a stinking foul hangover (and boy, I really need to stop opening my anecdotes like that), the pub of choice being a Cuban Bar in Clapham Junction.

Before you whine at me "What the fuck? A Cuban Bar on Saint Patrick’s Day? Not very Irish of you!", I would like you to take note that I spent last year’s Saint Pat’s in the Lion’s Jaw itself – Dublin. That was part of a five day trip that just plain throttled the living shit out of me, and deserves it’s own post maybe sometime in the future (but probably not). Also, I didn’t choose the fucking bar, somebody else did.

The reason I was so hung-over, was because of a Going Away party we had for Greeny (a work-mate) at a pub the night before. Greeny didn’t even show at his own party because he was too hung-over from the night before that one. What can I say, it’s fucking London. It didn’t stop the rest of us (about a dozen workers) from hitting the Booze with heated passion, and halfway through the night we started playing the drinking game “I never”.

If you’re not familiar with the game, the rules are quite simple. Somebody loudly declares an act that they have “never” performed (for instance, “I’ve never had a threesome”) then anybody partaking in the game who is guilty of the statement (those that have had a threesome) must have a drink.

It’s a game of honesty, and of course the more un-ethical the participants, the more fun it is to play.

However, there’s only so long you can play before you run out of normal statements, and the activities quoted become increasingly more obscene and surreal.

So we started with the mildly racey:

"I’ve never had sex in a public place."

After half an hour moved on to statements such as:

"I’ve never rung a door-bell with my erect penis because both of my arms were hand-cuffed behind my back."

And by the end of the night:

"I’ve never received hate mail from Green Peace for filming porn movies inside the carcass of a beached Whale."

Come closing time at 11pm we were all shit-carted and didn’t need another drink. So naturally a few of us went to a Night Club and drank Cocktails until 3am. I woke up at about 4pm the next day, face down on my bed fully dressed with the light on. I had no idea how I had gotten home, but I did know that the slightest movement made me feel like vomiting. So I lay like that for a further three hours before heading off for the Saint Pat’s celebrations.

I hope you have enjoyed this random anecdote kids. And as a quick side note, this is the 100th post on the Shoddy Blog. Far out.