Saturday, 6th October, 5:36 a.m., 'If You Were There, Beware' starts playing and I look at my phone; "Home" calling. In hindsight, I didn't know it was 5:36 a.m. till I checked the phone log, but it looks good to have a mastery of time. As you may have already noticed, I am frakn drunk out of my mind still. I digress. So, 5:36 a.m., I pick up the phone and my mum sounds concerned; "Where are you? Are you ok? You normally come home by this time". I take a moment to take in my surroundings and realise that I am in fact not home. The surroundings consist of green grass [at my eye level], the clearish blue sky, a laundry machine, old clothes and rags, a rusty sink, and a broken down toilet; I'm in some sort of external outhouse/laundry in god knows whose backyard. I mumble something on the phone and hang up. Did I mention I was frakn shivering? This is probably due to the fact that I have no shirt on, and I take a while to find my glasses [slightly bent now -_-] and then another little while to find my shirt. It's scrunched up on the ground, covered in dirt and what not, and I spend a while going through the old clothes that are there and finding something to put on; I'm well on my way to hoboism. I'm still so out of it that I can't be bothered doing any more than sleeping for a further two hours, at which time I use that sink to wash the shirt. While I'm doing that, some asian dude comes out to the backyard and is probably a little startled to see wearing some of possibly his old clothes, washing a stained shirt in that sink of his. He's pretty dressed up for 7:30 in the morning, and we go through the whole "Who are you? Why are you here? Get out, etc" routine. I've never seen the dude before so I finish up washing the shirt, and then realise that I can't walk the streets in those old clothes so I put on the frakn wet shirt, to add to my already freezing state [good lord]. I stumble around for a while and notice that I'm somewhere near Croydon/Ashfield, and proceed to walk for around an hour in the general direction of home. I try to ninja my way in as well as I can, and even though my mum hears me come in, she doesn't bother physically getting up [phew].

 

Fast forward four or so hours and here I am, typing this out, with a throbbing headache. Rewind 18 or so hours and you'll see how I got from A to B.

 

It's around 6 p.m. on another Friday night, but also not just another Friday night; it's Boss Man's farewell. Most of us Eclipsians are at Cruise Bar and the night ahead promises a smorgasbord of shots in addition to the standard rum. Fast forward another several hours, and it's all going fine and dandy, and there are still a few Eclipsians left [PT, Boss Man...[that's all I can remember, but there were more I think]] and I walk up to the bar for the umpteenth time and put my credit card to use for the umpteenth time. I'm buying shots, weird looking cocktails and rum. These two women come up to the bar beside me [leb or greek]. One asks what the weird looking cocktails are to which I shrug, and then asks what shots am I getting, to which I respond a Quick F*ck [I think i was planning on getting 151's but I smoothly changed it]. I believe I end up buying her one. By this time, PT has a huge grin on his face and is playing wingman. It's an hour or two later, and I'm still talking to this woman; all over her may be a better description, and that's probably as descriptive as I'd like to get on this blog. On these matters. Did I mention she's hot? PT should back me up on this. This is when things get blurry...Talking to PT now, he says that I came up to him and said "uh, I'm going now" and walked out hand in hand with that woman [apologies for ditching you, PT]. And, well, the next thing I remember is the beginning of this blog. *psy*.

 

And so comes to end another drunken outing, but this is one of those rare occasions where I actually WOULD like to recollect those missing hours. Once again, farewell to Boss Man; you will be sorely missed, but good luck to you in your new venture.