Wednesday, 17 February 2010

Either I'm maturing or I'm becoming incredibly dull.

Good evening, bitches. My parents have been away since Sunday so I have had the house to myself for the past few days which has been a strange state of affairs. Naturally I am the world's most untidy person so the place is an absolute state:

I know this doesn't actually appear to be that bad but if you bear in mind that this is only three days' worth of shite and that I am not exactly a large eater and that puts things into perspective. You might say I'm letting the side down somewhat with my resistance of having any wild parties where my budgie is ritually sacrificed and acid is passed around guests like After Eight mints, but it is important to remember that I am a good boy, and more crucially I couldn't be arsed to tidy up after a party like that, it would be easier for me to just torch the house and start from scratch thusly.

My parents being away has actually given me an epiphany with regards to nights out. For the first time in my life I am beginning to realise that you can have a good night out without:

1. Getting absolutely off your face.
2. Pulling a random stranger and then sulking when they're getting off with someone else 20 minutes later.
3. Chucking up all over Powerhouse toilets/the street/my bathroom floor (delete as applicable)

These are the sorts of lessons that boring frigid people always try and bore into you as a way of justifying their own truly more-boring-than-an-Ann-Summers-party-at-Jordin-Sparks'-house nights out. Or so I thought. Perhaps one actually must experience these things for yourself to really appreciate them. I have been out twice this week, and pulled 0 men and been sick through alcohol (or other means for that matter) 0 times. And I had hella good fun both times. Either I'm maturing or I'm becoming incredibly dull. I fear it may be leaning towards the latter as I have spent tonight watching my Friends box-set and listening to Taylor Swift.

I had an ace, ace night at Powerhouse with Catherine on Monday. I did not drink to excess and I ignored all the pretty boys (and, more importantly, I ignored all the mediocre boys) and managed to have a lovely time. Here is the proof via an image:

Brenda The Gay Elephant makes her Silly Old Daniel return.

I saw my friend Iain in The Bank. He said nice things about my blog. Here is a picture of us. Nice.


I spent last night out in Sunderland for another lovely gay night this time with Carla whose blog you should read because there is a BUZZZZZ about it, innit. We took lots of lovely photos also but they will wait for another blog, won't they?

Goodbye, loves!

1 comment:

  1. highlight of the night was you describing me as 'the Chris Crocker of fashion blogging'...:DD had an ace night xxxxxxxx