This post first appeared on Facebook and someone kindly said it made them chuckle (ah, chuckling the non-committal cousin of laughter- still, I’ll take it) so I thought I would re-post it here with up-to-date additions. Some antics I have got up to since being unemployed, under the influence of a few sherberts:
– Repeatedly stuck straws into the dense beard of a man I’d only just met. Try it, surprisingly fun. This was not apropos of nothing by the way, but the logic is too wobbly to explain in detail.
– Kicked the sweet out of a pinata. This, I believe, is not the traditional Mexican way.
– Text and left a voicemail for a mate late on a Friday night. He rings back, thinking it’s something important, only to be told that Norbit is the funniest film ever made and he must watch it.
– Hijacked someone’s photo on FB of them proudly holding a baby shark they’d caught with my inane ramblings about my mistrust of all sea creatures except turtles. I stand by that -sharks: wankers. Octopuses: creepy wankers. Jellyfish: translucent wankers. Dolphins: sycophantic, bottle-nosed wankers. But perhaps that was not the appropriate forum.
– Fallen off, over and through numerous things.
– Insisted my mate get on my shoulders during Alt-J at Latitude only to find that I had massively, massively over-estimated my own strength. I’m tall but weak.
– Did face paint for a couple of randoms at that same festival. One poor man asked for the Kraftwerk Autobahn logo. What he got instead was fancy eyebrows a la 70s Elton John. Painted an aztec skull on a friend of a friend only to become freaked out by my own artwork later and unable to look at her.
– Indulged in a lot of…. “interpretive dancing”, on tables, work surfaces and the like.
– Split a nice dress with my bum when I laughed too hard.
– Tried to cure hiccups by drinking backwards from a Magners bottle. It didn’t really work.
– Partied with a ridiculously hot, hilarious Brazilian gay guy who liked to shake his booty and hump everything. The mattress topper he slept on was duly de-flowered. I got my own back though by drawing on his face in lipstick.
– Stole a hat. Literally stole the hat off a man’s head. It was my birthday, in my defense. We’d been chatting and I asked to try on his hat as I have a thing about them, declared it suited me better and brazenly asked if I could keep it, expecting to be told to piss off, but to my surprise he said ok. I was so pleased with my pilfered booty that night, only the next day did it occur to me that it is, quite obviously, a man’s flat cap, too big for me and I will never wear it. It languishes, unloved, in my flat and I feel bad every time I see it.
– Rolled a joint on the belly of an Axl Rose-a-like who had shot himself across the laps of myself and a friend at a house party and lay there writhing and topless, refusing to move. Generally being half funny, half nuisance as all the best partiers are.
– Played a game of “headbutt the medicine ball” in my living room. Chucked it at my friends head only for him to nut it straight into my TV which wobbled terrifyingly. Perhaps foreseeably, that game was quickly shelved.
I could go on. I wish I could say that I was ashamed of these frankly ludicrous goings on but I am a deeply silly individual and still think they’re funny.