Tuesday 31 July 2007

"Just because you're not passionate about Jane Eyre, doesn't mean we can't sleep together"

the crew was 3 strong for fridays sojourn into the Northern Quarter, or the Quave as its known by some
Our journey from piccadilly gardens took us past our prom venue at school. We never really hung round each other during that time though
I took the plunge and suggested we went to a bar where I took the czech/german bird on a date. I mainly got her drunk, and my 3 date plan for eventual carnage suddenly turned into a 1 date success back at hers, although that was back in my 2nd worlds worst person days...
We also bumped into Pove, who was on a date with sparks flatmate. I felt awkward and didnt want to ruin his chances so didnt take a snap of her for the blog. I instead took a photo of this hotplate

later on we moved onto another of my date hotspots, Centros. Jobber gave us his catalogue pose, and S meanwhile sent crpytic texts to Moz who we were informed might join us after spending time with Dave Smith- it was his birthday that night.
they sold molotov cocktails, and before we left Moz text to tell us he wasnt coming out

the quave was rammed so we got into a taxi and headed to Lime. S spotted he fucked up one of his new brown shitflickers
0n the way we went past Arsenal legend Christopher Wreh's house
lime bar

once we were in, S pointed out that downstairs before 10 was free in, but after 10pm it was £3, so we acted like thrifty students and hovered downstairs for 20 odd minutes until the stamp lady was set up

however taking the flash off didnt disguise the fact that we were one of the only ones down there

me and jobber stood at the end of the bar getting our sleazes on, and made S carry the Vit G's through some crowded people just to try and capture his annoyed face on camera
luckily I'm an excellent photographer
I came back from the toilets to see some crazy mature hitting on S. One of her lines was 'Are you passionate about Jane Eyre?" but regardless of the answer, it seemed that it shouldnt stop her sleeping with him. S did what came naturally, and swerved her onto jobber
tolstoy shot

she bombarded jobber with requests to dance, but he wasnt having it. She was definately mentally ill
accidents
the evidence
reactions
me and S were hitting the gin & tonics, whilst jobber hit vodka/water chasers

going...

going...
gone
meanwhile I went to the toilet to take some tolstoy pics

theyve got some pretty urinals

I came back to see jobber was absolutely leathered, more so than I'd seen him in a long time. Whilst I was getting my sleaze on with an aussie girl upstairs, he apparently fell down the last 4 stairs going down to sublime-such was his state of pissness

we got him back to his flat and he asked me to put on Purple Rain, then wouldn't get up. So me and S did what anyone would do in that position...
we rolled him up like a sausage roll and pushed him off his bed!
he slept like that, under his darts board, all night and didnt remember anything beyond his first double vodka. Standard night out for us really...

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