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That’s the weekend done, Friday went ok, Mark celebrated his 40^th in a Mark fashion, as we went to bed at 3.30am he produced from his bag a bottle of Jack Daniels, I didn’t partake, I had had enough by then and a shot of whiskey before the 4 hours sleep we had may have been the bit that tipped me over the edge.

So met up with Jon and Mark in Stafford and then caught the train back into Birmingham, we stopped in the Britannia hotel and if you are expecting 5 star luxury for your money then you are the fool, you get more than what you pay for and as a place to sleep after a night out in Birmingham then it is ideal, it was clean and it suited us.

So after checking into the hotel we hit a few bars and it has to be said that I at 37 felt old on broad street, that’s me though and as Mark proves you are only as old as you feel. At ten o’clock we were not feeling drunk at all so the shots started making an appearance and we persisted with the drinking until we hit the first Spearmint Rhinos of the night and the birthday boy had a dance in there, its no club Tropicana and all of us felt, uncomfortable? Yes that’s the word, so we got a taxi to Birminghams other SR, not before hitting a rock bar for tequila.

Once inside the larger of the two Spearmint Rhinos, I found a seat and the birthday boy had a dance or two and I was from then on in constantly badgered as to if I wanted a dance, I daresay they weren’t referring to a polka or a little 2 step, I never found out, a fool and his money are easily parted and this fool hadn’t drunk enough to part with his money.

So after that the three of us went in search of a club, all of which were closed, and so we found an Indian restaurant.

All in all a good Friday tiring but good.

Busy few weeks ahead, of course me and inch high private eye are off to York, then on the following Wednesday we have this work thing in Coventry, *I must not get drunk and make a fool of myself, I must not get drunk and make a fool of myself, I must not get drunk and make a fool of myself* Then the weekend after it is Palmeroids birthday, he says its his 40th but the Magna Carta mentions him so we think he is a little off. I am booking me and Jon into the Britannia in Birmingham, a cheap and miserable place close to New Street. We are also going to a Casino and another place, a place that boys like. A place with dancing girls. Then hopefully off to Ramshackle.

Well Saturday night was the second annual Stafford Series of Poker, last years winner, Lisa was defending her title. What started out as a quiet game of cards ended with me drinking too much, being sick and not getting out of my bed for 30 plus hours. It was a good night though and it ended in a draw, Mark and Lisa decided it was stalemate and were far too drunk/tired to carry on. Myself, I had the worst hangover I have ever experienced and was second out, just after Chris.

What a depressing weekend. I managed to screw up my PC, yet again, why do I do this, why this constant quest to change OS. Well this time I managed to almost lose years of photo’s and years of emails. I really should consider backing these things up, MP3’s, they are replaceable, after all its not really difficult to get Sweet Caroline is it, however me reclining in my friends back garden in a t-shirt that says Mother fuckers be trippin next to a Buddha, a glazed look in my eye and a distinct possibility of a cocktail umbrella perched behind one ear, that’s a different prospect, that’s irreplaceable.
I did get it all sorted though and despite my best efforts to lose all of this, I didn’t, many cups of tea later and it all seems to be OK, I only have to reinstall Tunebite and a little maintenance and I am good to go. A word to the wise, back things up before you go installing Ubuntu.

I havent really mentioned my blog to anyone, if anyone from work has stumbled across it then they haven’t mentioned it.“Peter, the trouble ticket that you raised regarding the defect in one of the 2008 functions, actually, I notice that you loathe Heather Mills McCartney”.No that hasn’t happened yet. I know the LJ people know about it. But outside of that I have told 2 people, the battling dwarf that bears my brand, Lisa, she possibly doesn’t read it, and Jon, Jon was the one that responded to the news that I had a Ukulele for Christmas with the question, why? Jon’s response to the news that I had a blog at the is address was also why? He’s a one trick pony that lad.

We are currently looking for a holiday in October, oddly travel agents arent willing to take us seriously when we demand long haul 5 star luxury for 90 pounds per person. So far they have suggested we buy the Sun newspaper and collect the tokens for our autumn getaway. Well of all the insults.Seriously though we are hoping that our budget will stretch to somewhere a little warm for the first week of October, an ideal scenario would be a return to Zakynthos or Tunisia, probably to be more likely that it’s the latter.

The most telling reaction to the news that I had got a Ukulele was off my friend Jon.

Why?

Tonight we will be having a little drunky dancing to usher in the new year. Ordinarily this will be round Jon and Lizs, but this year it involves me, Lisa, a couple of bottles of wine and our dining room. I guess we dont have to wander across the marsh’s to get home and if we do get a little tired as we invariably do, we can sneak off to bed before big ben chimes.

All I really have to do now is select some top music for tonight for us to throw some shapes to.

talking about school/nativity plays reminded me of my foray into the dramatic arts. I was always a bit showy as a child, I went on to have 8 years as a redcoat and my hero was Ted Bovis, that tells you something. In the 5th year of school we were doing Half a sixpence, I had never auditioned for any of the school plays before, my breaks were best served talking to Alex Poulson about a band called Husker Du or out with Jon giggling more than is usual for a 15 year old. We did giggle a lot, Jon did and still does make me laugh more than just about anyone. Any how, in my final year at school I decided to do all the stuff that I had put off or talked myself out of, one being auditioning for the school play, I didnt want a major part, not the lead at all, just somone that had a bit of dialogue and preferably not too much singing.
I got the part of Sid, a supporting role that had a little bit of singing and a reasonable amount of dialogue. No problems really, learned my lines ok, the character was a socialist (as I liked to think I was then) and the only word I struggled with was Proliatariat, I just couldnt get it out.
Anyway, the first night came and my parents came, at the interval they nipped out to a pub and were late coming in. Also in attendance was my friends Jon and Dave and they had sat on the front row in these huge kipper ties and this was in 1987 by the way, not 1974, so I came on for my first scene and I froze, all I could see were my two best friends in these ties giving me the thumbs up and giggling. So I composed my self and cracked on without incident.
I was quite happy then, for that short period, the last year at school, I was living at my nans and I had started to love school.

This morning I have learned that Kidderminster Market Tavern is now a vets. I used to go to a lot of gigs there in the late 80’s early 90’s, notably the gig that Carter TUSM refer to as their worst ever, their drum machine broke. I also saw the family cat there a number of times, nothing but happy thoughts about that place.
I used to go with a few friends that I have now lost touch with and this pains me as there was a lot of happy times with them, perhaps they are on facebook, and perhaps I could remember their surnames.