I LIED...

I lied… the party never ends. This point was proven with fierce determination last night. The Perpetual Student, Thunder, The Jetsetter and I decided we’d had enough testosterone for a while and set about invading our favourite pizza restaurant with good old fashion pheromones and high pitch voices. Cue bubbles, boy talk, some pizza and more boy talk for a long overdue schmooze and bitch session, political banter and general all round good fun! With the voice levels rising exponentially in direct proportion to the alcohol consumption, a very good time was had all round.

As my name sake suggests, the lack of sanity coupled with the increased level of bubbles in my system, a decision was made to go throw name on a dance floor with Pint Size! Cue The Local up the road, a few tasty jaegerbombs and some stiff bum shaking on the dance floor. With the bewitching hour fast approaching and the remaining sanity slowly seeping away with the night a decision was made to make like a Shepard and get the flock outta there. Cue our very own personal body guard, a guided walk home and dreams of the Grease moves pulled on the dance floor.

Or where they only dreams… arg!