6 months of silence

Once again the inspiration behind the renewed interest in blogging comes from my infirmity. After hearing that so many of you enjoyed the tonsil photos, I thought it only right that I share this image of my fat purple foot.

This was the result of an injury sustained during what was meant to be a night out. Ironically I took this photograph with the phone that caused
it.

It was Katie and Marc's leaving do and it was decided that a few of us would form a splinter cell and avoid the lavish meal that the larger group would enjoy. The rogue cell comprised Diddy, Mario, Little Jimmy and I. We headed straight out from work, detouring via Jesmond so that little Jimmy could call home and get changed (and probably have a Barclays). Mario also chose to return to Bernardi Towers to feed the carp. This left Diddy and I sitting together in Osbournes enjoying an interim pint.

Within moments of pouncing on a 'well appointed' table we somehow became engaged in a discussion with a random bloke wearing awful shades about the benefits of sitting near the road. He felt compelled to inform us of his sexual persuasion - "I like women". Maybe it was Diddy's scissor sister esque demanour or perhaps it was Shady's way of hiding his true plans for us... either way the conversation soon involved wives and babies at a volume suitable to enlighten any listeners on our 'preferred bus'.

It was not long after Diddy and I had hetrosexually finished off our first pint, that Mario, Jimmy and Ross appeared to further negate any misconceptions on our favoured bowling end.

The Splinter Cell

Mario confirmed the luck of the Irish, returning from the bar with five pints exclaiming “f**king free roynd!”, he’d masterfully stopped the happy hour roulette thingy on free drinks.

3 pints later we were bound for the Cluny in town driven by what I hope was an open minded taxi driver as we all exchanged profanities to pass the time.

For the majority of the group it was our first time at the Cluny. Collecting a round of drinks we clannishly found sanctuary around a quiz machine and began a futile quest for interllectual prowess. Within moments of employing the first claw* of the evening (*A method of randomly selecting an answer from a touch screen multi choice game by pressing all answers with ones hand) Steven the Emperor appeared to join the detachment.

Whilst our well-healed colleagues enjoyed a bountiful feast at azzurri, we got stuck into some down to earth pub grub in Byker. I had a chilli lamb burger with real chips.

Filled with burgers, chips and confidence we made our way outside to enjoy the next round. As usual with these occasions I felt compelled to play a prank and who better to victimise than little jimmy. There's no simpler or greater prank than nicking a mates shoe and throwing it away amongst crowds of onlookers. Unfortunately on this occasion I was unsuccessful, Jimmy's lace tying ability proving too much for my lagered dexterity. Diddy then took the opportunity to avenge the failed attack on Jimmy and attempted to de-shoe me, which despite not having the desired effect, resulted in me decanting most of my pint down my shirt. I later splashed him in the crotch for parity.

We left the Cluny and headed to The Tyne for the next round. I took some photographs with my phone at the Tyne:

Dan the man (lost his toes in the frying pan) rang Jimmy to find out our whereabouts and soon after it became apparent that Dan was having difficulty finding us. Diddy put his hero hat on and decided to go and get him. 20 minutes passed and there was no sign of Diddy or Dan, so I ventured out (leaving my phone behind) to see if I could find them. Moments later Diddy and Dan arrived and the unknowing phone guardians joined us outside where we would decide to move on to Stereo.

We must have walked 50 yards when I realised i was without my beloved phone. I ran back to the Tyne to find three polite tree hugger students in our graves and no phone!!

T.B.C....