Dancing? No Fucking Way?!

So new years was fun hey. Motherfucking fun. Or so I hear. To be honest I can remember pretty much fuck all about it. I have been told that I was very happy and amusing most of the night and ended it with dancing, pretending to be sick and abusing strangers on the train while sitting on the floor. Sounds like me when I’m drunk. But you know what sounds more like me when I’m drunk? The recordings I made on my Dictaphone (a Christmas present for my beezneez) throughout the evening.

That’s right, New Years Eve, live and in audio effect. So if you are interested in me asking everyone the same question over and over again, or maybe hearing increasingly drunken philosophical debates with dave, or perhaps even my lame attempt at tricking Marta into admitting she’s a lesbian then I’ve got it all digitally recorded. If you are interested in anything that makes sense however, I’m really not your man.

I mean there is a recording of me singing happy birthday to the new year. And discussing how many puppies I had bought the preceding years. What the fuck happened? I have no memory of these events or many others. So if anyone out there can tell me what the fuck happened that evening, I would be grateful.

If I offended anyone, I am very sorry. If I was overly nice to anyone, then I’m not quite so sorry. But honestly, if anyone knows what I did the whole evening, then tell me. The black spots in my memories aren’t that funny anymore, just frightening little patches of *shit what the fuck did I do* stuck in my head.

But anyway, all in all it was a good night. I woke up with maraca’s (is that what they’re called?) in my pocket and a smile on my face. So I assume all’s well that ends well. Happy new year. 2006 is gonna kick ass. Hell yeah.