Ugh, the return
Well, I'm now awake again. Only a little hungover (everybody thank water for existing) and looking back at a fun, but too long evening. Oh, needless to say I have no photos of anything, which is JP's fault.
We got up. My batteries were dead in my camera, but I didn't buy more/bring the camera since JP and I were only walking up the road to the gaming store. Which was ok, but I guess I really have no idea what games are good anymore since I don't so much do that anymore.
JP is something of a force of nature I am learning. When he arrived I, half jokingly, asked if he wanted to go to Ireland with me for a couple of days. Next thing I know we start throwing ideas around and JP announces his desire to go someplace Spanish. Among the list is some islands, I put forward that (outside of England) I wasn't going to go to any islands and next thing I know we are going to Ibiza tomorrow morning at what JP calls the "stupid hour" which is 4am. It was actually considerably more convienient (and about £100 cheaper) to go tonight at 8pm, but Susan and Sophia had already made plans to have dinner with JP and since he bought the tickets out (I got the return ones) he felt that it would be worth the extra money to not offend his sisters. But wait, that's not all.
Additionally, while we wandered around the slummy areas of Fincheley JP picked up a phone card for his mobile and next thing I know we are not coming back to the house but rather heading into London to meet up with his friend Craig for a pint...or seven. So then we end up splitting a table with an equal number of hot German girls, and than we headed to some late night place with a live band that played endless covers of 80s hits. Except so loudly my ears have finally stopped ringing now.
Sidenote: I have not shaved in two days at this point, nor do I have my camera on me because I thought we were GOING TO A FREAKING GAMING STORE.
For those of you curious back home, JPs award winning approach to getting them to join us was to say "Are you looking for a table?" and then their leader said "yes" and he said "Why don't you join us at ours." I am seriously in awe, the man is like unto a god.
In the interests of historical accuracy, JP has reminded me that he felt compelled to intervene since I had failed to gather them myself. We were at a pub called Waxy's and Craig said something like "Hey look, three hot girls" and I said "On it" and pursued them up the stairs whereapon I became disoriented (Did I mention that this was pub number 4 or 5 by this point) and lost track of them. Apparently JP returned to find Craig who said "Ben went to get three hot girls, and here they come, but no Ben" so JP stepped up.
So anyway the night was a blast and now I find myself with the dilema of having drunkenly vowed that I would visit Christina in Rostock (which she may or may not want me to do, it was a trifle unclear...honestly even considering the circumstances. She initially made me promise to come to her town you see) and since a promise given is one that must be fufilled I now have added Rostock, Germany to my itieniary. I think I shall have to be careful not to make too many promises like that in the future though.
I think today will be a little more controlled. Except that if Sophia doesn't give us a ride to the airport than the plan as it stands is to do it again and just not sleep before the flight.
Oh, and I almost forgot that at the start of the evening we stopped to pick up a russian language book (remember that JP is teaching himself Russian now) and a travel guide for Ibiza. Much to everyone's amazement (myself and JP in particular) these were not lost during the evenings antics.
Other random thoughts:
What do you call a good looking girl in London?
A tourist.
It isn't that there aren't any, just that the few there are tend to be recent immigrants, or so aware of their status that they are a pain in the butt. Now I'm biased in that I find the British accent incredibly sexy. Well, the Kate Beckinsale accent, not the "My fair lady" aaugh listening to you makes my ears bleed accent. So I don't know, but Craig and JP both agree. And I have to admit that all the hot ladies I have seen have been in tourist locales.
Randy, you will be pleased to know that the "I got your reckoning right here shirt" was a success with the ladies. I've also realised how much weight I've lost living in Calgary since it used to be a little small...
Sophia's shower scares me. Basically you turn the cold on full, then you touch the hot tap as though you intend to turn it, but don't actually turn it. It helps that the tap itself gets incredibly hot to the touch, but I'm pretty sure the water here is hot enough to actually kill me if I turned it.
Oh, and I do feel more than slightly guilty about last night simply because Stephen has been trying to get me to go the pub like that since I got here, but I've put him off. The only option is to do it again, but making sure that we take Stephen along (which probably isn't the solution that Sophia would like seeing as how we got back two hours before they get up to go to work).
We got up. My batteries were dead in my camera, but I didn't buy more/bring the camera since JP and I were only walking up the road to the gaming store. Which was ok, but I guess I really have no idea what games are good anymore since I don't so much do that anymore.
JP is something of a force of nature I am learning. When he arrived I, half jokingly, asked if he wanted to go to Ireland with me for a couple of days. Next thing I know we start throwing ideas around and JP announces his desire to go someplace Spanish. Among the list is some islands, I put forward that (outside of England) I wasn't going to go to any islands and next thing I know we are going to Ibiza tomorrow morning at what JP calls the "stupid hour" which is 4am. It was actually considerably more convienient (and about £100 cheaper) to go tonight at 8pm, but Susan and Sophia had already made plans to have dinner with JP and since he bought the tickets out (I got the return ones) he felt that it would be worth the extra money to not offend his sisters. But wait, that's not all.
Additionally, while we wandered around the slummy areas of Fincheley JP picked up a phone card for his mobile and next thing I know we are not coming back to the house but rather heading into London to meet up with his friend Craig for a pint...or seven. So then we end up splitting a table with an equal number of hot German girls, and than we headed to some late night place with a live band that played endless covers of 80s hits. Except so loudly my ears have finally stopped ringing now.
Sidenote: I have not shaved in two days at this point, nor do I have my camera on me because I thought we were GOING TO A FREAKING GAMING STORE.
For those of you curious back home, JPs award winning approach to getting them to join us was to say "Are you looking for a table?" and then their leader said "yes" and he said "Why don't you join us at ours." I am seriously in awe, the man is like unto a god.
In the interests of historical accuracy, JP has reminded me that he felt compelled to intervene since I had failed to gather them myself. We were at a pub called Waxy's and Craig said something like "Hey look, three hot girls" and I said "On it" and pursued them up the stairs whereapon I became disoriented (Did I mention that this was pub number 4 or 5 by this point) and lost track of them. Apparently JP returned to find Craig who said "Ben went to get three hot girls, and here they come, but no Ben" so JP stepped up.
So anyway the night was a blast and now I find myself with the dilema of having drunkenly vowed that I would visit Christina in Rostock (which she may or may not want me to do, it was a trifle unclear...honestly even considering the circumstances. She initially made me promise to come to her town you see) and since a promise given is one that must be fufilled I now have added Rostock, Germany to my itieniary. I think I shall have to be careful not to make too many promises like that in the future though.
I think today will be a little more controlled. Except that if Sophia doesn't give us a ride to the airport than the plan as it stands is to do it again and just not sleep before the flight.
Oh, and I almost forgot that at the start of the evening we stopped to pick up a russian language book (remember that JP is teaching himself Russian now) and a travel guide for Ibiza. Much to everyone's amazement (myself and JP in particular) these were not lost during the evenings antics.
Other random thoughts:
What do you call a good looking girl in London?
A tourist.
It isn't that there aren't any, just that the few there are tend to be recent immigrants, or so aware of their status that they are a pain in the butt. Now I'm biased in that I find the British accent incredibly sexy. Well, the Kate Beckinsale accent, not the "My fair lady" aaugh listening to you makes my ears bleed accent. So I don't know, but Craig and JP both agree. And I have to admit that all the hot ladies I have seen have been in tourist locales.
Randy, you will be pleased to know that the "I got your reckoning right here shirt" was a success with the ladies. I've also realised how much weight I've lost living in Calgary since it used to be a little small...
Sophia's shower scares me. Basically you turn the cold on full, then you touch the hot tap as though you intend to turn it, but don't actually turn it. It helps that the tap itself gets incredibly hot to the touch, but I'm pretty sure the water here is hot enough to actually kill me if I turned it.
Oh, and I do feel more than slightly guilty about last night simply because Stephen has been trying to get me to go the pub like that since I got here, but I've put him off. The only option is to do it again, but making sure that we take Stephen along (which probably isn't the solution that Sophia would like seeing as how we got back two hours before they get up to go to work).
posted by Bne | 4:04 AM
10 Comments:
you'd better bring me a rock from each place you visit, you asshole.
Got your card today. Try not to kill yourself. If you miss my wedding, I'll need you to be very much alive so that I can kill you myself.
Have fun, but don't bother getting me any rocks.
Oh, and Terri wants a picture of Marx's grave. Maybe you could say something witty about the death of Marxism.
Seems to be a trend here. I called you a bastard in the comments section of another post.
Guess there is no point in visiting you in Calgary if you aren't going to be there. See if I come just to see you, again!
Getting a picture of Marx's grave is worth it if only for the visit to Highgate Cemetary, which is a very very very cool cemetary.
And we're all agreed, Bne's a bastard? OK, then. :)
Agreed!
um, I said asshole.
...I guess bastard could work though, too...I mean, he can be an asshole and a bastard at the same time, right?
He sure can. I am ok with asshole and bastard. Are there any other names we should add to the list.
Wow, I feel the love. No, wait, that´t the heat off my sunburn.
Part of me is a little concerned about gathering rocks to give to you. Seems maybe like a bad idea.
But of course I will
and I was thinking this morning as I drifted off to sleep in the wee hours, that he could be called an ass-tard or a basshole. Either way, I think there's definitely a theme here.
Ass-tard is my new word of the week.
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