I meant to link and think on Saturday. I did think, but didn't manage to link. It's been a mad weekend. And it hasn't ended yet...

Friday
Guy's birthday party at Joe Allen's. We eventually found the restaurant after wandering around Covent Garden, leaving SOS messages on friends' voicemails. Good food, good company, good friends, good cake. Good God, what a good cake! Made by Andy's sister-in-law, the cake was fit for a night at The Hoist - a man, naked apart from a leather harness and a cock ring. When it was presented at the table, it caused quite a stir at nearby tables: "What is it? Is that....? Oh, it can't be!" The debate over where to start cutting it was hilarious: "Cut the cock off!" "Ow! No!" "Start with the head!" "Straight down the middle!" Rumour has it we went to Barcode after the meal. Don't ask me.

Saturday
Another birthday party. This one for Marcus's flatmate Janne, who turned 30. He was sent out of the house for a few hours while we shopped and blew up balloons. Me, Marcus and Tomas staggered home from Tesco with: four bottles of no-name vodka, 48 beers, four boxes of wine, four litres of orange juice, 50 packets of crisps and two bags of peanuts.

I'm not a party person. I usually feel uncomfortable around crowds of strangers. I'm no good at small talk. Hell for me would be one eternal cocktail party. So I was nervous about this party, but I needn't have worried, as it was great fun. This may have been because I drank rather a lot to steady my nerves. At one stage, I realised that I was the oldest person in the room. It was just after that revelation that all the vodka got the better of me, and I, er, retired to bed.

Favourite party incident: an Italian girl named Giusi [pronounced "Juicy"] who developed a schoolgirl crush on me.

Most embarrassing party incident: the guy who ends every party by shoving a couple of balloons down his shirt and camping it up.

Most puzzling party incident: this same guy and his boyfriend. They left suddenly, under a cloud, then phoned Janne from the taxi cab, and told him that whatever he does, he should not trust me, Marcus and Cameron, as we are evil. Marcus called him the next morning to find out what that was all about. The reason given had us in stitches all day. It seems that we were dancing too sexy! Ah yessss, beware, I shall lure you into my evil trap with my sexy dancing!

Sunday
While everyone was sleeping off their hangovers, Marcus and I cleaned the kitchen. Everything we had bought for the party had been consumed apart from the peanuts. Anyone know a recipe that involves thousands of peanuts? Although we both felt a bit wobbly, Marcus and I went to the Royal Vauxhall Tavern. Like us, the DE Experience was a bit the worse for wear, but the show was pretty good. We showed off our sexy dancing, then joined Ian at Dukes, and - whaddayouknow - some bloke bought us a drink.

Monday
Called in sick.