I get misty

We went out to dinner last night with Tim and Anthony. The venue: The Olive Branch. It was fabulous.

I asked for a Margarita on arrival. They couldn't make one. I don't know why because they had limes on the counter, they had tequila and various orange liqueurs. Perhaps they didn't know the recipe. I'd have given it to them, but I'm shy. Don't look at me.

Poor Tim didn't get a drink at all. He wanted gin and bitter lemon. Sadly, The Olive Branch were sans bitter lemon. So that was that. Anthony had a bacardi and coke, Phyllis a gin and tonic. Tim noticed that I was enjoying my Margarita replacement: tequila and orange juice. I drank half of it in less than a minute. I think I was drunk already. This reminded me of when an old pal Barry and I went to a Mexican restaurant, years ago... I ordered a jug of Margarita. The food took so long to arrive, that I was totally drunk by the time we were served. The waiter plonked the food down in front of me and I just laughed, manically. I didn't eat a thing!

I did eat last night, though, and almost everything. I took a long time over the eating, noticing that everyone had finished their main course and I was only mid-way through mine. Why? Because, shamelessly, I'd monopolised the conversation yet again. I do tend to ramble and yabber on. I need to be kept in check.

We did have a laugh though, a very enjoyable evening. We taked about a lot of things, school, Eurovision, The Scottish Parliament's restaurant, lesbianism, people who share our names... Anthony and Tim are very nice people and quite funny, totally fabulous.

Oh, and I ate all my pudding! I was a good boy.

Sadly, we didn't see anyone famous.

It had been a misty day in Edinburgh. We couldn't even see the castle when we got off of the bus on Princes Street. I suppose it wasn't misty at all but foggy. And damned cold! Could it really be June!?!? Christ! I wish I'd worn my big coat last night instead of that bloody flimsy jacket. I had nipples like a blind cobbler's thumbs.

It was still foggy when we left the restaurant and the walk to the bus stop was a nightmare. Cold! We got to said bus stop but decided to walk to the next one as we had a ten minute wait. Standing in the cold and fog was not a prospect to relish. So, off we walked to the next stop, arriving there with a three minute wait for the bus. It was ten bloody minutes late! Shiver, shiver, shiver!

I got home, watched the repeat of Big Brother's Big Mouth on Channel 4, looked for Tourette Syndrome Barbie on the internet, let my ladies out for a final wee wee and went to bed.

We had wine with our meal also, I think about half a bottle each. I'm just not used to drink anymore. I was drunk. I'd say pissed as a fart, but:

a) that's quite vulgar

and

b) how can a fart be pissed?

I just don't get it.

I thought I'd wake up with a headache this morning, but I didn't. I think I've discovered a way to avoid a hangover, and totally by accident. Have a big glass of pineapple juice before going to bed. Ok, it's probably coincidence, but one never knows, does one.

Oh, and not a fuckwit in sight.