This weekend has been surprisingly eventful. On Friday I went out with my assistant boozing with her friends (some of whom I know) went first went to a delightful little pub in Knightsbridge and ordered rather a lot of thrillingly inexpensive but rather good wine and proceed to drink it with a passion. Or at least I did while most of the other people there had a sickeningly grown-up attitude to binge drinking. S was there with a her new chap who was rather dull this time, as I wasn't a threat anymore (they are properly going out) he didn't make the effort as much to be a friend. The girls however were on form and I laughed far more than a grown-up really should.
We talked about various silly things - the most inappropriate thing to wear to a party, different styles of drinking and having auditions for interesting looking people to join our party.
After being there for the majority of the evening we stumbled up to the bar above Harvey Nicks, I can't remember a lot of what happened in this bar, I can briefly recall eating some fruit and that is about it. For some reason I invited one of B's friends back to my house to watch Dune and we stopped on the King's Road for risotto ingredients before stumbling back to my flat to drink more wine and see David Lynch's finest hour.
I think B's friend wanted to do rude things to me but as I have a girlfriend nothing actually happened so I made her sleep in the spare room and that is about that. It must have been quite confusing for her, I know that generally when you go back to someone's house on a flimsy pre-text it usually means you want to do naughty stuff on them but it is good to have it not happen on occasion, it keeps woman-kind on her toes.
On Saturday I felt like death warmed up, twice with a side order of extra pain. As a way of getting over the suffering I decided to go for a bike-ride around Hyde Park. This worked very well, and although that actual journey to the park wasn't as restful as one would hope. Once I actually got there and I put on some relaxing Buddhist chants on my Ipod I felt rather good.
I even got to see a lady dog catcher try and entice a stray, it was interesting to see her at work squatted down on the floor with one hand held out offering a tasty snack and the other slowly inching forward a comedy style lasso thing to ensnare the dog.
This stray dog was clearly wise to the game though, it spent a lot of time shouting at her in between eating snacks before happily trotting off to find something else to do. I admired it's independence and secretly wanted to befriend it now that it had proved itself to be not fooled easly. I think I would get it a cravat to wear around it's neck (although thinking about it a hanky would be more suitable as it was clearly a street dog) and it would help me solve mysteries. We could have been in a Disney film.
After that I cycled home and felt all virtuous while napping in front of the telly, I'm going to go on more bike-rides I think.
In the evening I went to K's house to watch French films and eat cheese. She and her pal were drinking wine but I still hadn't entirely recovered from Friday night so I stuck to the fruit juice. It was all quite jolly but K was clearly on a mission to seduce me again and after her friend left (and thus left us alone) I had to make my excuses and order a cab.
It's not often that a chap gets to turn down doing the sex on two different girls in one weekend, I think being on the edge of madness must be like a potent animal musk. I am going to have to start wearing artfully crumpled shirts and more velvet to accentuate this look.
Top three compliments a chap can give a lady that I heard about this weekend
1)You have a French bottom
2)You are an exquisite sausage
3)I'd do you even if I was gay.
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