So apparently last night, according to Erica, I got very very intoxicated. Apparently I also spewed up a few litres of alcohol out the front of Bojangles. Apparently random pub people had to help me into the car. Apparently I had my head hanging out the car window the entire trip home and painted both the inside and outside of the door with vomit dribble. Apparently Erica needed her sisters help to move me up the stairs. Apparently I passed out hugging the toilet (again). And apparently I talk too much and hug everyone in sight when I’m completely whacked.

Normally I would say to Erica “Lies… all lies”. Unfortunately, the blinding head smashing hangover this morning tole me that her words were truth. Damn hangovers… it’s gods way of punishing humans for fermenting shit and drinking it. The last time I got even close to this drunk was on my bucks night, and I don’t even think I was as drunk then as I still retained some memory of what happened the night before.

Last night was a memory blackout after a certain point. Yes… it was one of thoooossse nights. A good way to know that you had way too much excess is when you remember absolutely fuck all about anything that happened beyond a certain point.

For me, the last things I remember before it all went black was Erica coming to pick me up and join us for a little while. I remember being coerced into having a few shots of sambuca (because I friggin’ hate sambuca) and setting fire to it in our mouths. I remember hugging some 21 year old asian dude (a lot) that I just met that night whom I suspect may live on the queer side of the tracks. In fact I think I hugged just about everyone in the place on one occasion or another… I’m been told I’m a touchy feely drunk. Not the sleazy sort, but the everyone is suddenly your best friend, sorta drunk. And I don’t shut up… god help everyone around me.

And then I woke up the next morning to the voice of the MIL thundering in the room like a loudspeaker. My stomach was churning like a washing machine and I could still taste the backwash from last nights cocktail of beer, tequila, and sambuca. Gosh it was horrid…

I don’t know how people can go out and get tanked week after week! The pain and nausea I felt the whole day was so not worth it. I know I’ve said this before and I’m going to say it again now. I’m never gonna drink again 😛

My first time at Bojangles and I quite like the place. Apart from the booze being relatively cheap, they have Guiness on tap which doesn’t seem to be that common in SG. Score!!! And the bar staff are all lovely people too because they laugh politely at my stupid jokes and didn’t pour beer on my head when I hugged them all. Especially the scary butch lesbian looking bar woman (looks very similiar to the butch lesbo aunty I keep twittering about at the Pine Gardens Cake Shop), who turned out to be the sweetest angel. She helped me drink half my Graveyard and for that I am eternally grateful.

A lovely small and intimate ex-pat drinking hole. Pity… because I swear I’m never gonna drink again.