The Beer Hunter v1.1.5

…the 2 pretty much go hand-in-hand. You can’t get beer without money, And there’s no point in having money if you can’t buy beer! That said, this weekend was especially significant. I’ll explain later but first, allow me to digress.

On Friday, I went to a 3-way (nothing filthy, you dirty buggers!), joint Birthday celebration. It was a ‘Trailer-trash’ themed party. Everyone really made the effort and looked hilarious. Except me. I had no idea what to wear, so I got a black hoody with “ASBO” written on the chest. What could be more trashy than someone with an ASBO!? Anyhoo, the night turned out to be a bit shit, ’cause one of my mates was being particularly annoying. Bless his little black heart!

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We were hoping to was going to be a kind of sloppy, gut-wrenching sound, but alas, you can’t always get your own way. Richard was the stag, as pictured. Looks fetching, doesn’t he!

Anyhoo, Our day started with a merry jaunt through a pretty wooded area. It was a lovely sunny morning, much to our surprise (having been told by a white, autonomous pokemon that it would rain), when suddenly we were surrounded. Roughly a dozon 15-17 year-old spotty oiks had jumped us, guns in hand, spouting gibberish army jargon. Some people take paintballing far too seriously!

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…just another night out for “The Circle”…..

No-one can remember how this came about….although it was probably something to do with another zany suggestion from Dave Stevens…..but last Saturday, eight of The Circle hardcore embarked on another epic journey to the centre of London, armed only with a hat and an item of facial hair.

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I always find staff parties amusing. Not because I’m terribly good at remembering what happened. But because I have to wait to get my photos off my camera before I can tell what sort of state I, and my co-works, were in. Usually, I’m a little bit snap-happy and people get annoyed with guerrilla tactics of sneaking up on people and getting them in a more action-style shot, rather than letting them pose and smile. I prefer it like that; it creates a more humourous photo.

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Why is it, when you’re out for a quiet beer with a few friends in a cool bar, a man, a naked man covered head to toe in mud always has to come along and steal the limelight? This country…

Nevertheless, that is indeed what happened to me on Wednesday in a little known bar in the depths of London Bridge station. Read the rest of this entry »