Had a
fucking nightmare this week with buying a ticket to a club night thatI then realised I couldn't go to due to a wedding. I'd have stayed
over and already had booked the hotel room. Tried to sell the ticket.
Had no serious buyers. Then realised I was losing money whichever way
I turned, and that the wedding venue wasn't actually all that far
from the club. I'd be at the wedding all day, so I'm sure they
wouldn't mind if I left at night. The club won't even get busy 'til
after midnight. I've just got a bit of a mission driving from one
place to the other. I'll manage though.
So re
the previous blog post: the ticket isn't for sale any more and I am going to one of the biggest clubbing nights of the year!
On the
issue of nightmares: earlier this week, gent's lifestyle magazine
Esquire were asking us to tweet them our
scariest dreams. I mentioned one that had stuck in my mind for over a
decade- that I was about to be beheaded in the college car park for
selling drugs. I have never sold drugs. I got a favourite and a
thanks from them. Woop woop!
And
on the theme of social media, comedy website The Poke
asked over Twitter for our #bruciefilms,
film posters involving Bruce Forsyth. As I'm using the pre-installed
Paint application and not a £200 Quark-type graphics package, this
is all I could manage:
I
apologise for that.
No PBs
at the gym.
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