Tonight I replied to a random tweet from a girl I know who said she was at the pub down the road from me having a few drinks. There I was minding my own business, feet up on the sofa, watching American Splendour and thinking how every man in the world probably feels like Harvey Pekar. A right sorry state.
What happened next was most unexpected. Not the drunken phone call asking if I wanted to join her and her friend for a drink (I'm ill) she's a good friend. Nope that wasn't it, nor was it the fact that she has to walk past mine to get home so when they both came up for a cup of tea and to catch up it's still in the realms of normality. What was strange was my friends friend. We'll call her Meat Girl. Why? Oh no reason. Well actually..
Meat Girl, who I do actually know but isn't MY friend had managed to pick up a burger, a cheeseburger a portion of chips and some donner meat on the way through the town. So Meat Girl was carrying a bag of meat. Which she then offered me, one by one. Twice. I mentioned I'm ill didn't I? I think this made me feel inexplicably worse and I was starting to question my judgement in letting these strange people into my home.
I stuck the kettle on and caught up with my friend a bit, all the while MG (Meat Girl) kept interrupting to offer a burger or other various meat related fast food products to me, being very insistent on saying they weren't all for her.
I was then informed of a story about MG having sex with her partner, and while this was happening he got, there's no delicate way to put this - His arse licked by one of the dogs. MG interrupted at this point and said that no it wasn't the dog it was her, she had licked his arse. There was no dog involved. At this point in my quiet evening of recuperation I've got two inebriated hysterically laughing meat carrying ladies in my front room screaming about rimming.
Obviously MG was in a sharing mood and then told us tales about her fella who is "a shy guy" wearing her knickers and getting in bed with her sister which she then described him as bolivious.
Another time this "bolivious" guy had had a little tinkle while drunk over a cushion that had sprayed all over another family member. Which sounds lovely.
He had also gone into his brothers room to,
"hold on you aren't filming this are you?"
"No, no carry on."
Well he went in there the play a playerplaystation and had just gone to sleep. In his brother's bed as well the crazy fool. Do you want some meat by the way?
I have to admit at this point I was starting to lose the plot a bit, my zen was well and truly fucked. I was starting to want to know more! Who was this mystery man? And why wasn't he my friend? I want to party with Bolivious. He sounds amazing!
But unfortunately they finished their cups of tea and left. Not before MG had asked if she should leave me a burger, as they weren't all for her. Obviously.
So that's how my quiet night in recuperating got gatecrashed by a friend I haven't seen in a while and her insane friend who I will be looking out for like a hawk just to see if I can spot her with her boyfriend.
God bless you meat girl and your bolivious boyfriend.
You crazy rimming, thong wearing, pissy, sleepy, carrier bag full of meat carrying bastards.
