Frankly, I'm amazed that I made it into work today. I don't mean the tube strike, but the weekend:
Friday: after the IMAX film, we went to Barcode. Simply everybody was there. I seemed to get really drunk really quickly, and suddenly thought "I have to go" and rushed out, just missing the tube and having to get a night bus.
Saturday: Duvet day. Eventually crawled out and tottered off down Kilburn High Road. Bought a VCR, intending to record the Annabel Chong story, but couldn't set it up in the ten minutes I had before I had to rush out to the Wimbledon Theatre to see La Cage Aux Folles. One of our group is in it. In drag. Nice legs, Gary.
Sunday: Matthew's 30th. The Royal Vauxhall Tavern. Fantastic. A rather bewildered Matthew was greeted by 20 guys all wearing "Matthew 30" T-shirts, organised by Andy'n'Alex. Much drinking. Much dancing. Much flirting. Much waiting for two night buses.
And the prize for the wildest weekend goes to Guy and Neil. But I wouldn't gossip...