Friday. Still October, still ill Bunny. Doctor has refered me to a rheumatologist, to have my rheums checked out I assume, which means more blood being removed from me and more of my bodily fluids travelling merrily around the country in little vials.
So here I sit, waiting to be dragged into work to cover for the last three hours of the day due to staff shortages. Should just about finish me off for the day I think. This weekend is going to be a total washout… but then again Hobbits is Ska crazy and booked out for Saturday night so I will save about £80 NOT going out again this weekend, which is nice. Might have enough for some rather nice Christmas presents for people then.
But what am I going to do without going out.? Perhaps I could conjour up the image in my head of a traditional night out, with all around and fun being had… just imagine that… *sound of harps and blurry images*
The White Lion…
Yonder Hwang sits, dressed in his usual fine garb of a pair of bright yellow fishing waders and a large traffic cone atop his neatly combed barnet. Besides him sits Ben, the White Lion pooch, a pair of large tinted spectacles and a glass of Alka-Seltzer placed nearby to stave off the violent hangover he drank himself into last night… mixing Winalot with whisky is never a grand idea. And lo, who is this.? Tis Lemony and Bunny skate boarding into the public house, cheeks a flapping and the sound of kazoos filling the air. In tow behind is the semi-naked Chris, who has left it far to late to get ready, dressed only in a small towel as it is.
The drinking begins, Hwang gets in the first round, then a square and a triangle. Shots of garlic chilli sauce get slammed down with salt and a squeeze of mango juice. A quick round of pool with Hobbits Emma joining us, leads into a game of strip cribbage with two elderly gents and a Polish bus driver called Eric. Unfortunately Emma wins and Hwang ends up running the pub starkers, despite the fact he wasn’t even playing… anything to feel the wind through his balls that boy.!
Phoenix…
Baz, the shining light in a dark rock bar… primarily the reflection of the spotlights bouncing off his hairless nut. Bounding merrily up the stairs into a now chav free area presents many opportunities for smoking, drinking and being sick in the urinals as Lemony demonstrates with a chundersome load sent from across the room into a cubicle. Mavellous. As Emma has worn her new teflon frock she is sliding about all over the place leaving glasses broken, the barman aroused and the DJ in small pieces strewn across his decks. Baz applies some sticky stuff of his own making to the floor and arrests her progress but not before she has inadvertantly mooned the local Women’s Institute on their weekly night out boozing it up in Sennies.
All too soon it is time to head on to the final destination… Lemony has her collar applied, so does Hwang and like a basket full of Poodles they are dragged in a most undignified manner towards the club accompanied by applause enriched with farts.
Hobbits…
Journey’s end, Chris enters first… dressed still only in that small towel but now carrying the fetid rotting corpse of a dead badger over one shoulder and an enormous pair of soiled ladies undies perched delightfully upon his head. The contents of said pants are starting to dribble in a liquid form down the sides of his face like two watery sideburns. Thankfully Monkey and Giles are on hand to hose the poor guy off, along with Paul who is pumping away to provide said refreshment.
The lights are dipped low to allow an all star Hobbits cast on to the dance floor for a quick boogie to “Umbrella”. Leading off is Sexy Dave, who dances like Wayne Sleep, followed closely by Hwang, who dances like Wayne Rooney. Scene and Emo kids are dotted around the building as both Helen behind the bar and my Bunnylicious self take pot shots at them with soda syphons filled with chlorine and Mellow Birds (to make them Smile).
An early casualty is sadly Baz, who despite the warning, has been knocking bad gallons of lager mixed with unleaded petrol and then attempted to light a guff. Fortunately he did it outside, unfortunately he burnt down the school opposite, lit up the night sky for miles around and blew a whole in his trousers. Ring piece burnt to a crisp, he and it (his ring) are hoisted on to the back of a milkfloat and driven off to be stared at by a sweaty porter at A&E.
And so ends another evening out. Sadly Pouty didn’t put in an appearence but horses jokes and sticking out lips were pushed forward as an offering at the new Hobbits Pouty Shrine in one corner of the club (make two sacrifices, get one free). Chris did lose the towel, but Rose promises to return it along with his genitals, the next time she is back. Hwang didn’t manage to dance too much due to a large fridge magnet adhering to him all night. Emma pulled a dustman from Stoke called Nigel and eloped with him to Bridgwater later that week and Lemony and myself, well, we bummed a lift home off a passing Leyland bus and Lemony was left to ring the bell when we got in.
*harps and blurriness again*
See… now you KNOW that could happen.!!!
On another note Hwang, I am sorry… when you drove past me this morning I hesitated to wave because I didn’t know it was you… I did look and thought it was a woman in a similar car… ooopsie.!!! By the way, I was not on my way to “do your mum”. Cheers then 
.