Dating for silly men who lock themselves out of the house
I have made myself homeless a few times, because I am a berk. By homeless I usually mean forgetting keys or foolishly ending up in a situation where I have no where to sleep, or stay. I mention it because I managed this yesterday, while wearing shorts but I survived and TP only mocked me for a little while.
Confused? Let me list two classics.
I was watching it on the telly it seemed nice. Some friends phoned up and said they were there and that they had a spare ticket and asked me I want to come along. It was lovely weather and I was living only about 30 minutes away. So I hopped into a car and drove over. This is what I packed: a spare shirt, three apples half a bottle of mead. No tent, no warm clothes.
On the way over I stopped to pick up some hitch-hikers (It seemed the right thing to do on the way to Glastonbury). They were two chaps who revealed they had just got out of jail and they were going to sell drugs. Don’t worry they didn’t kill me.
My friends said were at ‘the gate’. There is no gate, there are eight. Also my chums hadn’t taken their mobiles along so they’d phone from a pay phone, give awful instructions and then I wouldn’t meet them. I managed to sneak in eventually by giving a man ten pounds.
The festival was fun but going there on my own was strange. I talked to some people, walked around for hours saw some strange acts. Ate a cookie and the eventually fell asleep for a bit in a field while watching Fight Club. I couldn’t stay awake for the ending so I had no idea about the twist for months.
After 36 hours of walking I was pretty tired, but I was too scared to sleep properly.
Eventually I did find my friends and it was aces. I was so glad to be able to sleep somewhere safe. While we slept someone robbed the tent.
Lesson learned: Tents aren’t secure but if you’re going to a festival you probably should pack one, sleeping bags are nice too.
I was living with a girl for a while (as chums). It started off okay and then strange things happened. One of which was she instigated a curfew. I had to be in bed and silent by 10.30. The flat was pretty far out of London so it took about an hour and a half to get to it from Soho. If I came home after then, there would be WORDS.
So this meant by a 8ish I had to decide if a night out was going to be a big one that would coast all the way through till 8am or end it there. It’s hard to tell. I got it wrong a few times and so ended up walking across London a few times just to kill time (if I stopped moving I got cold) I got very fit but sometimes my shoes cut my feet to ribbons and I’d have to wash blood out of my socks.
Lesson learned: There isn’t a lot to do in London between about 3am and 6am.