Best laid plans

Of course, it never works out the way it was supposed to. I didn’t get to go dancing on Friday night, which was probably a Good Thing considering just how knackered I am today, although that probably had more to do with the prodigious booze consumption over the past two nights.
The failure to go dancing was somewhat inevitable. A group of people who have been in the pub from 5pm and Not Eating are not going to be in the best of states by 8pm, let alone when the time comes to go to a club. And so it proved, with drunkenness abounding. Which is not usually great for group dynamics, and for reasons that I’m still not clear about, I slipped out of the pub like some kind of retreating ninja (albeit a loud and drunk one, in a wildly floral shirt) at some point around 11pm. I have sorted that pub under my mental file for Never Visit Again. It was absolutely abysmal. It was a Wetherspoons (natch), it was open until 2am and was playing some God-awful house music to an empty bar (except, obviously, for our party). Still, I was at home and in bed by half-past midnight and I hadn’t spent excessive amounts of cash.
Fortunately, I spent it all the next day on booze in Tesco (well, I wouldn’t want them going out of business: God knows they’re struggling) in preparation for the Eurovision extravaganza. I didn’t even watch the FA Cup in my pants, or while drinking (I still had a hangover at that point). It was such a dull game that I spent most of it tidying the flat. I need to reappraise my priorities.
Still, I did actually manage to invite people over and watch the Eurovision song contest, which was much the same as it is every other year. Bland and way-below-average pop songs, partisan voting and Terry Wogan getting more and more pissed. The highlight of the evening, however, was the genius that is Donkey Konga. Even for those who despise computer games, this is more addictive than crack mixed with heroin and KFC. Unlike, for example, Singstar or other karaoke-style games, if you have no musical talent (like me) then it is merely entertaining (and frustrating) without being excessively embarrassing. I’m sure the neighbours will have an ASBO on us by the end of the week – we were pounding the skins until the wee hours. But balls to the other residents: I’m going to buy more bongos for four-at-a-time multiplayer bongo carnage and invite even more friends around next time.