“I’m not celebrating my birthday,” he said, in reply to my congratulations in the early afternoon.
“We might go for a Glühwein at the Christmas market,” he said at 6 p.m.
“Letsh get shome more Tecwila,” he said at some point (I’m guessing 2 or 3 a.m.)
Ah. My friends. The people with whom I refused to go for a “Boys week in Bulgaria” in July, after which birthday boy didn’t touch alcohol for six weeks to give his liver time to recover.
And, birthday boy, I don’t care what you say; your friend is gay or bisexual. It’s one thing for drunken men to put their arm around the shoulder of their friend and slobber “mate (semi-dramatic pause), I love you” – it’s something else to grope my arse, caress my inner thigh and say “Ooh! Donna Summer, fabulous! Let’s dance!” Yes, he might have slept with that Bulgarian “girl” from the hotel – and have the pictures to prove it. But SHE HAD A BEARD!
After that, things got a little hazy; I remember the conversation with the girl who’d just had her nipple pierced. Not in the nightclub, but earlier in the day, I hasten to add. What kind of seedy clubs do you think I go to? Actually, scratch that question, I’m not entirely sure where we went. Nor do I know why half the lights in my house don’t work. I’ve got a vague idea why I’ve got a headache though…..
German Phrase For Today: “Komm, noch ‘ne Runde” - I think I’m going to be sick
Song playing as this was published: “Something quiet and soothing”
Happy Belated!
Well okay, belated in that my birthday is exactly six months ago
Well happy halfway to the next one then (does this mean we missed your 33 and third day?).
And as I’ve just found out what Google has to say about you, and now I hear about the caressing; is there something you’re not telling us?
“Boys week in Bulgaria”
That’s got bad news written all over it. My last trip to Bulgaria involved lots of weird homemade grain alcohol. I woke up three days later in Münster and haven’t been back since. Thank God.
Oops, I was kind of not sober at the time. Not that I am now, mind you. I vaguely thought it was odd, as I sort of remember your birthday was less than a year ago. I suppose that’s what a ‘Christmas dinner’ with beer, Gammel Dansk (cough mixture-like snaps) and gløgg will do to you! The English language? Is that something I’m supposed to understand? Oh well!
Damn - I should have just said I meant ‘Happy Belated’ for your friend!
Dark, loud and with a sticky floor. Those are your prefered clubs. Did you do your dance?
Last boys night out I had involved lots of grappa, lots of hookers (not for me of course) and the Munich polizei. ah, memories.
820, don’t you mean hookah? I’m SURE that’s what you meant…
I stand corrected EasyJetsetter. I don’t understand how my recollection could have been so poor. Mistaking a bong for a um, er overly affectionate female. I guess the grappa made it all so fuzzy. (BTW it still wasn’t for me I tell ya)
Seenster: That sounds like a typical experience from what I’ve heard, although you’re missing the bit about sexually-transmitted diseases that I was told about….
Not going: One of the best things I’ve done this year.
Devonboy: “AWAY”? Your IP address is showing up as being in central New York!!! But yes, there was a certain adhesive quality to the floor. And what do you mean “my dance”?
820: Ah, the Münchner Polizei. And they all have a great sense of humour, I’ve found.
As a professional homosexual, I concur with your evaluation. I mean really. Donna Summer, hello?
Sin: “a professional homosexual“? What are the going rates then?
and yet we always say “i’m never going to drink like that again”
At least that’s what we tell god when we’re praying to the porcelein gods]
Yeah, your btw is harboring some curious interest in the same sex. He may or may not be gay but he sure has curiosity. Is he really masculine? I always find the really butch guys to be the ones who always are the MOST questionable when they start drinking or hanging around with someone who is gay. Very interesting indeed