Blog it to me

We are now fundamentalist free. To rehash a joke I heard about 10 times on Friday night (that was, funnily enough, probably due to the hash) he took all the fun out of fundamentalism - which leaves da mentalism.

And there were a few good events at the drinks that are worth repeating. Such as Charlie and Claire's lame assed decision to start watching The English Patient at 11pm. Sad. This forced Corey, Fi and myself to have a party in my room. Oh yeah. Scrabble isn't quite as foxy as twister, but I managed to spell the word nerds and get a triple word score (which took it up and above 6 points). I'm a geek. I'm a geek.

Emma and Tria arrived but that wasn't enough to tempt the boring ones out of their pad. 2 more to my party. Emma told me off for my use of her on this site, but then privately thanked me for the resulting traffic that I caused. Apparently 8 of you (as of Friday night) had clicked the link from this blog to her blog. Sorry about that.

Once the wedding guests had arrived things livened up a bit. The main reason was that when they opened the door the she-devil walked in and proceeded to make herself at home in our flat. When I say 'she-devil' I clearly mean small, black, cute and furry cat. I like cats, but we can't have one no matter what Claire might say or think. So I had to (metaphorically) crush it's cuteness with my (metaphorical) testosterone. We hissed at each other a bit and I, in a scene that no doubt reminded a lot of people of Fred Flintstone, had to keep throwing the cat outside as it kept jumping in through the door which people would open for it. It finally bewitched Fi and lives with her now.

I christened my thinking pipe and reminded Ben of Gandalf. Finish your thesis.

Other goodness included a trip to Countdown with Emma, Charlie, Andrew and Adam when the last two had a rather nasty bunch of the munchies. Adam was trying to seem sober, while Andrew was trying to seem upright. Back at the flat they got into the celery, peanut butter and twisties in a big way. Was tempted to suggest that one of them might have turned into the 'big fella' but not even I am that crass. You know what I mean.

I gave up at 5.30 and slept through most of yesterday. For some reason I went for a run around Hagley park, and although I set my best time to date, I also cried and died like a baby.

CSI rocks.