Sunday, 12 February 2012

Shut up and squat

I was considering not going out this weekend after I had the rather sobering thought that I hadn't had a weekend in since August when I lost 15 stone of dead weight AKA my ex. The thought was so sobering in fact that it immediately made me fancy a bevvy and so I decided to get raar on it with @susielovesvodka.

Before any drinking could be done though it was gym time. I hadn't bumped into hot gym instructor since last week so in preparation I decided to reduce the lesbian vibe of my gym gear by at least 80% and lash on some (waterproof) mascara just so I'd look semi decent. I knew he'd read the blog and found it hilarious. I bounced up to the gym, I was feeling good. He wasn't even there. Fuming. Ah well, such is the nature of hot gym instructor - he only turns up when I'm least prepared and looking most rough. Anyway I nailed the Zumba class and walked home wondering whether or not stealing a staff rota would be crossing a line. I went with yes. Yes it probably would be crossing a line.

So Susan had some shit sounding charity event on last night with her work which I was less than impressed at the prospect of. I also didn't think her taking me as her plus one would do her any favours either seeing as several of her colleagues have asked her if she's a lezza recently. But on her head be it so we went.

It was lame.

We rang our delta contact and got him to swing by STAT and pick us up. After half an hour.
"To the Revo!!" we cried. We'd promised we'd meet @sparkybuttsniff for a bevvy at the Mathew Street one after he missed out on the twitter night out last week cos he's a shit lad. And as we all know, shit lads are shit. But Mathew Street revo was also fucking lame. After half an hour of havin a drunk bunch of Wirral heads try to grind on me while dressed as pirate wenches (I hope they were on a stag do but they might well have just been bell ends) I was really pissed off. This night was goin downhill faster than the new series of TOWIE.

So back in ANOTHER taxi we decided to stick to what we knew and go see our mate @stehodge_12 in the posh Revo. Yano cos we're dead posh like.
There was a queue when we got there. I hate queing loads so I pulled the whole "hey mate we don't have to queue we know Ste Hodge." But unfortunately the bouncer didn't an he buzzed us off an pointed to the back of the queue. Shit. After about 3 minutes of freezing queing we were in, but he was nowhere to be seen so we decided to bust a few moves downstairs and pour an extra strong handbag vodka to try and liven the night up a bit cos up to now it was a poor effort. Moves like Jagger came on and as is the custom I broke out into a full Zumba routine while Susan looked on in shame and tried to pretend she wasn't with me, I don't even ATTEMPT to look cool on a night out! We also realised this was a prime location for pervin at lads arses. Yum.

Later on we found Ste working on the back bar upstairs so it was back on the shots and cheap rounds wahey! We got talkin to some lads who sounded a little bit on the wool side so I decided to do a bit of investigation into this. "Ay mate, tell me, do you have a pair of Toms?" His little wooly head looked all confused as he replied, "I have one pair of Toms yeh, why?" I made a wreching sound and walked away, it's the only thing to do in these situations. He then beckoned me back over to call me cheeky and try and get into me, I think he mistook my vomming noises for flirting. This was when I noticed that his mate was actually WEARING Toms and he'd been hiding them under the table the whole time the sly creature. We bailed from the vicinity immediately and went and hid in the toilets.

We were about to give up on the night and go home when we got talking to some other guys who we straight up established lived in town and had definite scouse origins. One of them even had guns out on show in what I like to call a Gun Display Cabinet and not a cleavage top in sight, it was looking promising. I noticed Mr GDC had more than a passing resemblance to our old bootcamp instructor Dave. Now Dave used to put us through our paces at Crosby beach once a week and for some reason was not a fan of wearing undies so quite often we'd see his meat and two veg bopping away having a little pants party while he's demonstrating a butt kick. This was the best part of bootcamp. Sidenote: We saw Dave out at New Year cos he also works the doors in town and told him about how we could see his lively trousersnake and Susan shouted HELICOPTERRRRRRRRR!!! in his face. He was buzzin.

an example of a Gun Display Cabinet. Guns out, cleavage AWAY! leave the cleavage to the girls fellas.

So of course Mr GDC because he looked like Dave, in our eyes BECAME Dave. Cut to 10 minutes later and I'm doing burpees on the floor of the Revo in my pink dress and high heels (because the bouncers in there are full on shoe nazis and won't let you take your shoes off) and we're forcing Mr GDC to do a tree stance. Which is basically standing in a squat position for as long as possible....really hurts after about a minute. Anyway after a bit Susan starts screaming in his face "NECK HER!!!!!" and pointing at me. "I'm trying!" he exclaimed looking a bit terrified. What had this poor guy let himself in for??

Then a strange thing happened, the more I refused to neck him the more keen he became - who knew that hard to get thing actually works? I was onto a winner. So ladies and gents I did NOT clubneck him. I gave him a hard time over giving him my number and chewed his ear off about the whole Chelsea fake dating profile story but eventually he got it. "So where dya wanna go for a date then?" Oh yes this kid was a professional, he was tying me down while he still had me. 
"Er....." I stalled for time trying to think of something ridiculous and difficult, "Blackpool fair."
"Yeh ok sounds good."
"Really?! Do you drive?"
"Well how are we getting there then?"
"We can be train wankers."
"Swerve that raaar off, just take me for a bevvy in the Ship & Mitre." Love a good cherry beer.

By this time it was past 4 and the place was clearing out. I said my goodbyes to Ste who thought we weren't speaking to him after we went to see The Chronicle on Orange Wednesday with him and his mate and they were noisy Odeon pests. But we love you Hodgey :)

Chicken and chips needed to get in my belly immediately so me and Susan paraded like showhorses down to the chippy. And I mean we walked down there doing that weird walk that showhorses do and making horse noises. Why? Cos it was piss ya pants funny thats why! Plus walking in heels always makes Susan feel like a showhorse apparently.

an example of our showhorse trot

Someone in the chippy made the grave mistake of asking for ketchup on his fries. Oh well this made us FUME. ITS RED SAUCE!!! If anyone reads this and they were a chippy in town last night and got a load of abuse about sauce. Yeh, that was us.

I inhaled the chicken in the cab so fast I got hiccups. If anyone has ever not seen me eat you will literally not believe how fast I eat. it's borderline disgusting. But my whole family is like that. I think it stems from the fact none of us are comfortable showing affection or socialising with each other so we just tried to get mealtimes at the table out the way as fast as possible. So I am both emotionally dead inside and a speedy eater. Yesssss.

Got in and passed out and unbeknown to me Susan had our Delta contact round for a cheeky neck sesh on the couch which I was only informed about this morning, AAAAAAYYYYYYY!! Ya dirty ticket Susan!

This morning I woke up on a mission. I was going to Zumba and Susan was coming with me whether she liked it or not. I've stumbled across the fact recently that while exercise on a hangover might be the last thing you want to do, once you've sweated for an hour the hangover legs it leaving you to get on with your day. Susan was NOT happy at all but she didn't have a choice. I text hot gym instructor to see if he'd let her bunk in. He'd seen the blog and STILL doesn't want to marry me and have my babies so I might as well get something out of it. He was on board.

So still bladdered we snuck round the back of the gym and my phone goes, it was him. "Oh hi hun u ok?" I said cheerily. "Where are you ya tit??" He loves me, deffo. So we found him and he let us in a side door. Nice one hot gym instructor. It was the funniest Zumba class I've ever been to in my life. Susan didn't know a single routine and was wearing leggings 3 sizes too big, everytime I clocked her confused face or her pulling her keks up I burst out laughing. There's one routine which suddenly gets really fast and complicated half way through and she just screamed "OH FUCK OFF!!!" and stormed off for a sulk before joining back in. Halfway though she looked at me and went, "Oh my god your earlobes are sweating, I thought you were blagging!". No no I work that hard and sweat that much.

On the way out, drenched as usual in my 40% proof sweat who do I run into as he's coming out of a room? Yeh hot gym instructor. I turned to Susan and said, "See?? EVERY TIME!! - its like he waits for me." It's ok though, I could see Susan and I knew she looked much more hungover than I did seeing as she'd been up all night necking so thank god for small mercies. There was only one thing for it, go to Mohammeds and clear him out of peanut Kit Kat Chunkies. Which we did and lived happily ever after. The End.