It’s not a million miles an hour and i’m not flying away from here. I’m talking about Friday night. It was a party, a fair way out and I wasn’t driving.<\/p>\n
I wasn’t drinking either. I’ve gone off it a bit. The last time I had a fair whack to drink I couldn’t eat for like 12 hours the next day… not particularly fun, especially when you have to drive for an hour to get home. Anyway, back to the party….<\/p>\n
Started off with people whacking down a few weird concoctions, we shot some pool (Hayden and I won, twice! – we *so* rock :) and had strange conversations at the round table in the kitchen. I also lamented over the lack of heavy guitar music. I would have killed for some Led Zeppelin or Hendrix – even some Manson would have sufficed.<\/p>\n
There was a girl there who likes me. This is where this OD entry ends. Incomplete, unfinished and confusing. It’s a literary interpretation of life and one which you can draw no concrlusions from and has nothing to do with what I’m thinking. It’s purely here to muddle your brain, ’cause hopefully it’ll be yours, and not mine.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It’s not a million miles an hour and i’m not flying away from here. I’m talking about Friday night. It was a party, a fair way out and I wasn’t driving. I wasn’t drinking either. I’ve gone off it a … Continue reading