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jonnymac1979 wrote:Was one of my work Christmas nights out last night (another one next Friday) and all I had to eat the whole day was a sausage on toast for my breakfast. Went the boozer about 13:30pm yesterday for a few on my lunch. Went back the office about 16:00pm to switch my PC off and then me and the lads walked up to the other end of Liverpool to Hardman Street calling in four boozers on the way.
When we got to the gaff where our party was, I was hammered. I’d had seven pints of lager before I even got there. Free bar, so me and the lads got the champagne in. Can’t remember a fucking thing this morning, the whole night was a blur apart from a few bits.
Speaking to the lads this morning in the office, after their utter shock that I had actually made it into work, I allowed them to fill in the blanks.
The boss of the project I work on happens to support Manchester United, so I proceeded to rip the piss out of him at the top of my voice, telling him how shit they were and how good Liverpool are as loud as I could, thinking it was dead funny that they had gone out of the Champions League, rolling off statistics and looking like a complete tit. It prompted him to say “John, I think we’d better stop talking about football”. He’s a fucking Gulf veteran, he’d more than likely know how to kill me with one punch if he got hold of me.
Then he mentioned he had a 24 year old daughter. You can imagine the direction that conversation took. Probably shouldn’t have said stuff there.
I disappeared for ages. I had locked myself in a toilet cubicle where I was throwing my guts up. I carried on drinking straight away after I got out of there. Borderline alcoholism. Bit worried. Probably breathed on people as well.
Went to another couple of bars and saw midnight and my birthday in at a mates house where I drank three cups of black coffee. Got home about 02:00am this morning.
I’m going to try and get on the piss again today at the earliest opportunity, as soon as my boss lets me out of the office. He can’t believe I’ve showed up for work. I’ll probably have more stupid stories to tell tomorrow about tonight.
Thank you anyway for my birthday greetings and your efforts with Photoshop. Made up with them. Not made up about the fact I’m getting older but I’m still only 26, not 29 you bastards!!!
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