Thursday, December 13, 2007
tis the season to be *bWaaAAak* *spit* *spit*
Good Crikey- the work Christmas party is tomorrow night! Tempus fecking fugit all right.
Last year's party was almost memorable- and by that I mean I can almost remember it. This year, I've made myself a solemn vow- NO SAMBUCA. Anything else (except Southern Comfort) is okay- but not that vile spittle of satan. It renders me utterly useless and punches great big holes in my memory. Just ask my little Italian friend about The Curious Incident Of The Hand And The Guiness. Horrible stuff.
So yes. This year we've foregone the traditional curry and are going somewhere more upmarket, private dining room in the City.. and not just because we were banned from the curry house we went to last year. Afterwards we're heading over to the closest Pitcher & Piano for one for the road, although everyone knows it's actually going to be a keg apiece.
Still, it's at least in an area I know, both sober and tipsy, so I should be able to wind my way across to London Bridge station on autopilot; failing that, a late night cab only costs about a fiver. Yes indeed, it bodes well. I'm even making sure I travel with the bare minimum of accesories tomorrow to minimise my chances of losing stuff.
Be warned though, I'll have my cellphone with me..so some lucky friends can expect deep and meaningful texts any time after 9pm. I'm warning you now that I take no responsibility for the content thereof. Any complaints can be directed to whichever fool tells me the boss is running a tab a the bar.
Posted by Mark ::
23:34 ::
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