Would Anybody Like A Teacake?

A strange booze and paranoia filled evening, last night. It all started with a bang, in a fit of sober clumsiness my arm decided to spill half a pint of delicious 49er all over the table. A little splashed onto the arrogant knees of an old, mute fisherman. He decided it would be good larks to show off to his cod-stained acquaintances by wiping his fat thighs with the lining of Miss Dee's coat, while she was helpfully acquiring a cloth to minimise the damage. A fair amount of berating followed, during which the largest member of the angling collective, who was not the object of our anger, proceeded to lumber slowly and drunkenly towards our table.

Previously I had taken on the graceful mantle of Dame Shilpa Shetty, by donning the ceremonial Yasmin Arafat scarf as a kind of bath turban. And a good thing too, I needed every ounce of composure and restraint as I was assailed by the large, nasty, Jade-like figure, alcohol and bile oozing from every pore. I was cordially invited outside, presumably for a dance and to gaze at the hazy moonlight. I regrettably had to refuse, as I thought to myself "What would Shilpa do?" and judged that she would be above such things. He began to paw and shove the innocent bystanding elements of our band of reprobates, and I probably let slip the phrase, "What is wrong with you?" a few too many times.

It wasn't until his attempt to crawl over the table with his lard-filled knees, as the pointless, blonde, relief barmaid stood simpering in the background, that one of his gormless mates decided to intervene and dragged him kicking and screaming out of the pub.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of tongues and noise, until we returned home to a splishy splashy enhanced by the Bollywood zaniness of Shilpa film, 'Baazigar'. We admired the fatness of her cheeks and the denimness of her clothes, and finished it all off with a double crescendo of Big Brother and mucho tea.

Shilpa to win!


Currently Listening: The Good, The Bad & The Queen