Afternoon.
Looks like I'll have the walking dead home in the next hour. He's trying to convince me that I can still go to Jeffstock, and has this crazy idea that he can still come and pick me up. What is it about men that makes them refuse to admit their limitations?

I've been looking into it, and the last train back to weston is about ten o'clock. If he's okay (and I can find a granddad-sitter) I might still make it for a few hours. Can't afford to get legless or anything though.
( b3th Not shit. Not mod., Fri 20 Apr 2012, 16:04, 2 replies, latest was 12 years ago)

CHEERS!

( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Fri 20 Apr 2012, 16:07, Reply)

10/10

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 20 Apr 2012, 16:15, Reply)

we will have to just compress all the partying
and antics into a couple of hours, then
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Fri 20 Apr 2012, 16:07, Reply)

So I have to get pissed and drown Battered in 2 hours? fucksake.
(ThunderCuntThePendejo officially less shit than NakedApe, Fri 20 Apr 2012, 16:14, Reply)

yup
might want to make a start on it now
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Fri 20 Apr 2012, 16:15, Reply)

I do have two litres of blackrat I could sample beforehand.
(ThunderCuntThePendejo officially less shit than NakedApe, Fri 20 Apr 2012, 16:16, Reply)