Beer Gas

Finished work last night (a good time to finish me thinks) and recieved a call from my beloved. And Kate. Katey-Lou, despite being off work with leprosy, had been invited out for a drink by her boss, and was commanded to bring along yours truly… Now my liver hurts and my bottom keeps letting evil smelling gases permeate the air…

I had at LEAST 8 pints of guiness (Kate and I tried to do the maths this morning… it hurt…) and was as drunk as a lord, but twas a jolly good evening all round. The fact that every time I turn my head a goblin seems to try and copulate with my brain is an unfortunate side effect of this.

And the saddest thing of all? I have to go out with my supervisor and Taxi Dave tonight for a work Christmas drink… wait, what’s that noise? Oh yes, it’s my liver crawling out of my belly button and making a break for it. Run dear friend, run to the hills…. cue Iron Maiden song….

Tom, Liver-Doner-Needed Personality of the Year