Some evil people got me very drunk last night and made me stay at a party until about 5am. This morning they've mopped up all the moisture in my brain so that it aches a bit and my eyes feel slightly too gritty to move them very frequently.
I got into a terribly silly argument last night with one of my flatmates over the connection between the funnybones skeleton books and the song 'Dry bones'. The argument started with us simply trying to remember the lines to the skeleton books -
In a dark dark house down a dark dark street...
An excellent book designed to teach children how to read the word dark and not a lot else. Although it was interesting to read - I think mainly because it was so dark. Definitely the renegade of the children's bookshelf. If there was going to be a children's book on drugs it would be the skeleton book and all the other books would be shying away and trying to keep their spines clean.
But then my flatmate started singing the dry bones song and insisting that it was all the same thing.
Ridiculous says I! The Dry bones song is a completely separate entity and is not in the books. How could the song possibly portray the well known tune in a book. Ridiculous.
But the argument spread like wild fire. soon the entire party was taking sides, most of them my side because I was right. But it was like West-Side story with skeletons. Of course there were a few casualties of war who had no idea what we were talking about who just sat bemused in the middle. They had a sort of blank stare in their eyes and just started muttering lines about skeletons that they couldn't possibly have understood. It was all very harrowing if I'm honest.
Then I ended up under a bed. There was a curious bed at this party of evil argumentative people. The curious bed was in the corner of the dining room and it's anyone's guess as to why it was there but it was super comfortable on the top of it. Looking back I realise this does not explain my presence 'neath the bed but at the time it seemed like the most logical of places to want to put myself.
I have a habit of getting into small places when drunk. It's sort of turned into a game over the years for people to see what the smallest place they can put me is. We've done tumble dryers, cupboards, under beds, even under the stage in the Cow Cafe at the Underbelly the other night. In fairness, this was because we'd lost the ping pong ball we were using to play 'On The Wonk Table Ping Pong'. OTWTPP is an incredible variation on standard ping pong which involves moving the tables after each failed attempt at a rally to make it harder. This does seem silly on the surface of it because if you're failing then why make it harder? But it totally made sense that night because we were so excited about havign invented a whole new game.
I'm 99% certain it will one day end up in the Olympics and anyone will be able to play it merrily. they actually won't be very merry - they'll have faces screwed up in concentration because they're so serious about trying to win. And I'll have loads of money and statues of me for being one of the inventors and the only one small enough to get under the stage and rescue the ball so that the invention could continue.
Today I'm not totally convinced I can bring myself to drink at all. Not even water. In fact, if it rains I might just die. I also don't want to put myself in any small places today. Unless someone offers me the chance to ride in a baby's pram - because that would be pretty cool. But other than that I am anticipating a relatively peaceful day of nothingnes...it is unlikely to happen.