Friday, December 02, 2005

don't mention the blogs



I went out with the “Thirst Fursday” crowd last night for a few beers, a Thai meal, a few bottles of wine, and a few more beers.

Soon after arriving, B** E****** turns to me and says : “Listen – we are DEFINITELY not going to talk about blogs tonight, ok?”

Ten minutes later, he turns to me and says,

“Now I KNOW we’re not going to talk about blogs, but I just want to say I’m really enjoying reading Mike Todd’s blog!”

A bit later, Conor W told us how much his offspring looked like himself, even though he has only ever see him/her via an ultrasound shot. So B** says,

“Hey, you should write about that on your blog!”

I come to the conclusion that although we were definitely not supposed to talk about blogs, it was clearly ok to talk about blogs.

So I figured this was a good time to ask him the identity of someone who seems to work for a particular firm of solicitors that has been regularly hitting my blog on a certain page lately. Turns out it’s his girlfriend, none other than I*** C***** herself.

Then I figured I should warn him that the page she keeps reading is the one where I talk about my fiancée and the plans for our wedding. This of course leads to much slagging from the lads. B** seems to think it’s a good time to stop talking about blogs again.

Until, of course, a few bottles of wine and a spicy Thai dish later. And a debate about “gobies”, which I worked out were desserts, though I was afraid to ask why.

Suddenly Ken asked the very attractive Thai waitress for something like a “fudge-packer” and everyone laughed. Seemingly she knew what he meant and he was the only one to get a goby.

Soon after the whole battered sausage debate, we remembered the day B** nearly killed Declan on Ian's stag weekend. The supervisor said, "Whatever you do, lads, don't point the rifles straight up in the air." Less than a minute later, what did Declan do? The pellet fired from the gun, hit the corrugated iron roof, and struck B** less than an inch above his eye. Considering he also had a rifle at the time, the man showed some restraint I can tell you.
Then of course B** brought up the blogs again, having quizzed I*** via text message about her sudden interest in weddings. Apparently she pleaded her case quite well. Turns out she just bookmarked that page because it was the first one she saw. Good save.

Then it fell upon us to come up with a ruse whereby I was to make her think I was somehow annoyed that someone had scrutinized my blog so closely. By now, of course, the conversation was all about blogs.

I might add that we were rather tipsy by this stage. So much so, that I can’t remember now what I was supposed to type here to make I*** think I’m annoyed. All I can do instead is tell the story of how we sat in a pub after the restaurant drinking bottles of Heineken trying to work out which lapdancing club we were going to hit next.

Oh, and I almost forgot, I was to be sure and mention Ger again. Done.

Twas a good night, lads. Here’s to the next Thirst Fursday. Maybe then we can talk about blogs.

2 comments:

Mike Todd said...

Dude, that was a great post, even without B** E****'s exhibiting his extraordinary taste in blogs. I'm glad he still has both eyes to read with.

Reminds me of local front-page story from a couple days ago. This teenager was cleaning a rifle on the front porch. It accidentally fired, and the bullet went through the wall of the house, bounced off an iron safe in another wall, and hit his grandma in the forehead as she sat on the couch. She was fine, except she had a black eye and needed a new pair of glasses.

The relevance? I have no idea, but I wanted to show off for reading a newspaper.

Megarita said...

It is inevitable that the blogs come up. Terrifying how much a part of our lives they've become, I think! but then I think, hell, I could be talking about something...worse. Yes. Something worse.