girlsdontcry's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

I did something last night that I regretted almost instantly. In an emergency (we had to smoke before we went somewhere no smoking, and we had to have a drink while we smoked), my friend and I went to this bar called Garlic & Shots, a bar that is most likely filled with goths and rockers and would-be bikers (but honestly, where can you park a Harley-Davidson in Soho), only the tube strike started last night, and even goths need the tube to get home to their parents' basements.

Anyway. Caught up in the excitement, we both decided to order garlic beer. Garlic beer. That was what seemed like a good idea, until about the second sip.

Garlic beer is a half pint of perfectly pleasant lager, with a load of fresh, crushed garlic floating on the top. Garlic that you either have the unpleasant sensation of swallowing in lumps, or the unpleasant sensation of getting stuck to your lip if you clench your teeth together in an attempt to strain the beer.

So that's inspired me to write a random, and by no means comprehensive list of things that seemed like a good idea at the time:

- Burning paper in my bedroom when I was ten years old. (Although, it's amazing how effective Jif is at covering up burn marks on white carpet.)

- Cutting my own hair aged two, eight, 12, 13 and 14. - Cutting Barbie's hair.

- Not cutting Sindy's hair (Sindy was such a mutant. She was a peroxide blonde in a shellsuit standing at a slot machine, while Barbie was an ice-cool blonde sipping a Martini at the roulette wheel).

- Opening a second bottle of wine.

- The sixth pint.

- Trousers you will fit in just a couple of weeks when you've lost that weight.

And I reserve the right to add anything to that list as it springs to mind.

..........

Because I was out drinking garlic-flavoured beer last night, I missed what sounds like only the best television programme in the world ever. My colleague told me about it (because the serfs are allowed to speak now that the lord and master is trapped in north London because of the tube strike). He said it was about narcolepsy, and they had a whole scene of a narcoleptics meeting, where they had to keep waking people up so they could vote on the motions, and where they have three note takers just in case one drifted off in the middle. Man, that makes me never want to go out again, if I'm going to miss stuff like that.

10:02 a.m. - 2002-10-02

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

random entry

other diaries:

jennyj
pablo
pollymagoo
buck88
expatrica
discodave
exhaust
zeroreverb7
propeller
trishtastic
rue-madame
starzero
meepful
cruel-irony
heidiann
division-day
heelandlass
purplebanana
captvfirefly
mousemilk
culotte
terminal5
atavist
ottodixless