TOO MUCH PART -A:

Thursday 14/02/2008 08:00:

After a banging chess party on a school night, I proceeded to get to the station in what seemed to be the coldest morning there has ever been anywhere, ever. With both Ghandi’s feet in my mouth, I cursed myself for succumbing to the peep pressure the night before. “Never again “ said I.

The office was its usual “perky” self. Princess refused me direct access to the tea mugs. Biyatch. Had to stand for 45 squillion hungover minutes (equivalent to about 45 sober seconds) while she poked her teabag in her oversized mug, dressed in a mug warmer. WDT?

Facespace was quiet. No more pokes than usual. I eventually came to the realisation that I would in fact have to attempt real work. In my state, i could have cried at that point. But four extra-strength Anadins and three cups of coffee later, I was back on the horse, coding away to Celine Dion’s “My heart will go on” (Which I believe – shock, horror – is only number TWO on the “Greatest Love Songs of All Time” hit list!!) Damn those Bangles.

11:00:

As my hangover subsided, i felt relief wash over me as I discovered I didn’t feel as though I was on boat anymore. Looking forward to my 12am knock-off, I received an email from Jack.

And I quote:

All,

Please be advised that we will be indulging in a slight bit of carnage and debauchery in our kitchen tonight. Those invited – you – will be permitted to bring guests, however they must be at least one of the following:

- Male, and hot

- Male, and be able to juggle

- Female, and not there

- Male, and bringing dinner

Circus folk will be considered but I have some reservations at how the dwarves will handle the man-sized cans of Fosters… Although they would be awfully good at getting them out of the bottom of Hayley’s fridge.

The reason for this little soiree, apart from celebrating my sheer elocution when faced with the Francais language, is because we are all sorely dehydrated and it hasn’t rained in a while.

I expect 100% attendance and RSVP’s.

Yours in arms (and 88’s Kitchen),

THE In STIG ator

PS. A little joke to get you in the mood – What comes before Part B? Partay! This will become funnier in about 5 hours…

Fuck. I knew that I would be back on the boat very soon. And what was even sadder was the fact that her joke was funny even at that point... It was then that I realised I had never ever been off the boat – It had all been a dream.

88 ended up being even more debaucherous than chess night! I do believe I was engaged in a heated debate over who came up with the concept of toilet paper... As intelligent and insightful as the debate must have got, I decided that I needed at least 4 hours of sleep if I was going to make it to work the next day.

Friday 15/02/2008 08:00:

I made it to work. “Never again” said I. Ghandi himself had now set up digs in my mouth. The bags under my eyes needed their own post codes. “Never again” I repeated.

14:00:

I was voluntold . He pays my salary. Nothing I can do.

Boathouse (oh the irony)

2 x bottles white wine - £30

Nachos – £6.50

Cigarettes -£5.70

Getting pissed on a Friday afternoon on the river, while Jack slaves away at work: Priceless.