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» Utterly Drunk
Collapsed in a XXXX of XXXX (spoiler alert) in my favourite restaurant...
A friend was visiting from the north, I'd given him the large one about the amazingly diverse and cosmopolitan nature of our restaurant scene...I'd promised him an eye opening and totally unique Ethiopian eating experience that was my new favourite, favourite, favourite, place to go...
...we got lagered up to the max on stella...we called a cab...and smoked a very potent jazz roll-up whilst we waited for it to arrive...I climbed in...cheeks burning and feeling woozy. We arrived (at the marvellous, but in all honestly probably a little bit over priced, Queen of Sheba in Kentish Town)... we entered, flopped to our table and ordered up the Emperor Feast. We got stuck in very heavily and ate far too much too quickly...
I thought to myself, shit, I should take a break, this is causing the all the blood to run to my stomach and my head feels a bit light... I rolled a fag and took a drag, and then another and then... Oh fuck, I'm losing the ability to see...oh fuck...this is a situation that requires a nearby toilet...oh fuck... I can't move... Oh fuck... I am sweating... oh fuck... I suddenly felt much better. 'Wow', i thought to myself, 'that was a close escape'. I called to the waitress, 'can I get a doggy bag?'. She came over and cleared the table...
...I re-lit my fag, had a drag and booooooom... my head span...I puked a little puke into my right hand, thought, 'oh fuck, this is a two hander...' I brought my other hand up and filled it...
...the next thing I remember, I am lying under a hedge...it's a gorgeous sunny day...the wind is in my face and I feel amazing...I feel someone shaking my head...
...I wake to find I am face down on a table utterly covered in puke - literally from corner to corner... I can't remember who I am with or where I am, someone's stroking my hair - I look up, it's my mate... 'sorry', I say... standing next to me is the owner, with my doggy bag...
My mate paid and we left. Doggy bag in hand.
I've been back since. It's fucking great, very different, but a bit over priced. They always ask if i'm OK and seat me in the furthest corner...
(Wed 20th Feb 2013, 17:12, More)
Collapsed in a XXXX of XXXX (spoiler alert) in my favourite restaurant...
A friend was visiting from the north, I'd given him the large one about the amazingly diverse and cosmopolitan nature of our restaurant scene...I'd promised him an eye opening and totally unique Ethiopian eating experience that was my new favourite, favourite, favourite, place to go...
...we got lagered up to the max on stella...we called a cab...and smoked a very potent jazz roll-up whilst we waited for it to arrive...I climbed in...cheeks burning and feeling woozy. We arrived (at the marvellous, but in all honestly probably a little bit over priced, Queen of Sheba in Kentish Town)... we entered, flopped to our table and ordered up the Emperor Feast. We got stuck in very heavily and ate far too much too quickly...
I thought to myself, shit, I should take a break, this is causing the all the blood to run to my stomach and my head feels a bit light... I rolled a fag and took a drag, and then another and then... Oh fuck, I'm losing the ability to see...oh fuck...this is a situation that requires a nearby toilet...oh fuck... I can't move... Oh fuck... I am sweating... oh fuck... I suddenly felt much better. 'Wow', i thought to myself, 'that was a close escape'. I called to the waitress, 'can I get a doggy bag?'. She came over and cleared the table...
...I re-lit my fag, had a drag and booooooom... my head span...I puked a little puke into my right hand, thought, 'oh fuck, this is a two hander...' I brought my other hand up and filled it...
...the next thing I remember, I am lying under a hedge...it's a gorgeous sunny day...the wind is in my face and I feel amazing...I feel someone shaking my head...
...I wake to find I am face down on a table utterly covered in puke - literally from corner to corner... I can't remember who I am with or where I am, someone's stroking my hair - I look up, it's my mate... 'sorry', I say... standing next to me is the owner, with my doggy bag...
My mate paid and we left. Doggy bag in hand.
I've been back since. It's fucking great, very different, but a bit over priced. They always ask if i'm OK and seat me in the furthest corner...
(Wed 20th Feb 2013, 17:12, More)