Wednesday, March 07, 2007

My favourite jumper

As soon as I woke up, I knew that the previous night had been overly indulgent, even by my standards. My throat was so dry that I couldn’t swallow without grating off bits of it; my eyes rejected the aggressive daylight streaming through the skylight with such a vengeance that you’d have thought a transplant had gone wrong; the thud in my head was like that of an onboard motor.

Thankfully, I was alone in my bed.
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13 Comments:

Blogger mike said...

Oh Alan!!! Ur so funny u make me LOL cant wait 2 c u agin this wkend X.x.x

11:53 pm  
Blogger Bill said...

A most intriguing tale ;)

A propos linguistics, I as a Scot use 'jumper' and 'jersey' (and 'sweater' for that matter) almost interchangeably; occasionally 'pullover' too.

1:21 am  
Blogger DougZAR said...

Golden showers?? Eew!

6:59 am  
Anonymous kyknoord said...

What do you mean? Corruption is one of South Africa's main exports.
An excellent tale woe, btw.

7:51 am  
Blogger BlondebutBright said...

Wow. Every story I've ever had is so boring compared to this. Lesson? Don't wear your favorite clothes when you get pissed. :)

10:23 am  
Blogger Terri said...

Good idea, getting a new jumper.

btw Since you missed it I put up a pic for you from last Saturday night

10:26 am  
Blogger Edvard Moonke said...

there are times when the best thing to do is to just let go of the jumper and scarf...

3:06 pm  
Blogger Reluctant Nomad said...

mike: It will be good to see you again and go around the usual Nottingham haunts. Fortunately, the owner of my jumper doesn’t go out that often, so there’s little chance of bumping into him.

Bill: I prefer intriguing tales that lead to less embarrassment and no loss of favourite jumpers/sweaters/jerseys/pullovers.

DougZAR: You said it!!

kyknoord: So that explains the lack of morals around me?

BlondebutBright: Good lesson, thanks for pointing it out! :-)

Terri: Great pic! Thanks. However, it was very clear here that night and I got a very good view of the moon doing its disappearing act.

Edvard Moonke: But I seem to do it to often. Yes, of course, you’re right.

1:18 pm  
Blogger cvodb said...

Perhaps someone spiked your drink?

Last weekend it was Mike getting text messages from an unknown number and he had to ask me if +31 was The Netherlands. Thanks for reminding us about the eclipse.

Also... jumper, jersey... gansey (from the Irish 'geansaí')

11:06 pm  
Blogger Ariel said...

Sheesh, that's an adventure and a half. Thing is, how do you know what he told you was true? It could be that you got hammered but the rest was fiction. Still, what a weirdo! Makes for fantastic reading though.

12:09 am  
Blogger JP said...

My goodness; how did we ever let you leave for Amsterdam unescorted; you need 24 hour surveillance.

Can't wait to see you...oh, today.
xxx

8:59 am  
Blogger J. David Zacko-Smith said...

Sounds like your mice aren't the only party animals in da house! Party on, party on! ;-)

6:44 pm  
Anonymous Eleazar said...

Thanks for this post, pretty effective piece of writing.
blood typing | peanut butter fudge | white flats

8:00 am  

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