Aided once again by the less-pervy-than-you-might-imagine Tony Fenton, last night threw an awful lot of bloggers together through the medium of hip-hop. I could link to them all but it takes fucking ages and shit and my throat really hurts today. The well-being of my throat is directly related to how much effort I put into blogging. Hence, feck all posts lately. Anyway, by the time I've finished writing this other people will probably have put their own takes on the evening up, with far more effect than I could manage. And they mostly had cameras. (There seems to have been a proliferation of shots of me looking pensive, which is interesting, given that my mind is rarely on anything loftier than Wham bars and why Chickatees taste so good when you eat then on a Saturday afternoon). Sadly, Snoop Dogg was truly muthafuckin' awful (muthafucka) so we went back to the pub and bonded over the more traditional medium of alcohol.
Fenton, Green Ink and Lottie all have lovely beards, and I was made to feel quite inferior for looking rather clean-cut. See, I have an excuse though: I had an interview on Monday for a grant that would cover my college fees for the year. I was inevitably interviewed by old people. Old people still tend to have very judgmental minds about hirsute faces, so I figured it best to reveal my baby-face, and smile a lot. I spent the entire interview convinced they could see right through me, that the blood on my collar would betray my face as one that is not accustomed to regular scrapings. But, word has reached me (officially confirmed by a call today at lunchtime) that I've been awarded the grant. You obviously can fool some of the people some of the time. So I'm calling it the 'five-grand shave'; at least until I can come up with something a little wittier.
Anyway, despite the general suckiness of Snoop a great night was had by all. I think.
Well, I had a great night and you're all rides, especially Darragh. The lovely Annie (the non-Welsh version has put her thoughts on the evening here. Given her continuous camera duels with the over-enthusiastic Fenton I expect a fairly epic post from everyone's favourite new blogger Green Of Eye, Little Miss will no doubt give us a slightly surreal take on the evening if she ever has the energy to be up late blogging again, and I expect the Bluebirds to be funny and to fully rip me to shreds for being an awful patronising bollocks for a while. Darren should be too busy masterminding our bloke-blogger (only) Bill Murray appreciation night to write anything.
No Broken Flowers allowed, apparently.