It took me until mid-afternoon the day after to write this for a reason. I somehow managed to drink so much so fast last night on an empty stomach that I completely lost the last hour or two of the evening. Sleeping it off and trying to reconstruct events has taken me most of the day so far. I clearly recall the UniBar where David did NOT play in a band, and being so shmammed by 9:00pm off Tooehy's Old, Jim Beam cans, white wine, Southern Comfort and shots of Jack Daniel's that I could barely walk home, where we finished off the rest of the SoCo and trotted down to the British for Jack & cokes. That's where things go a little fuzzy. I definitely had at least one there, though my wallet seems to indicate I may have bought more than one round, and I clearly managed to spend about $60 last night. I fell into a plant. I ended up with a mysterious 4" scratch down one arm (NOT from the plant). My shoes ended up in my living room and I slept with one sock on, waking up in the dreaded realm of 'still-drunk' that lulls into a false sense of security. Then the hangover creeps in like a disease and before long you're laid up like me. A shower might help smooth these wrinkles out.
Drink Count: 12? (This number is inexact at best, obviously. Oh well. Moving on.)
Lies were told; no band, hence no band pictures. And I didn't bring a camera anyway, so there probably wouldn't have been any. Instead, enjoy the pig statues in Rundle Mall.
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