The afternoon after the Christmas do



I’ve been awake since 11 and my head still feels funny, like a pig’s had a shit on my brain, and I’m mighty peckish so am going to rustle me up a fry-up. Mmm snausage, bacon, eggs — it is times like these I wish I lived with someone who could get this made whilst I sit here somewhat delicate but I don’t, so no-one will, and I must fend for themselves. In a minute. A cuppa first, a little Leo Sayer (Long Tall Glasses), and then I’ll get on it.

Last night was Portsmouth Water’s Christmas party at the Marriott Hotel and I got home and still have everything I vaguely remember taking out with me so it was a roaring success! There was lots of dancing — I got a little line dancing going to Blurred Lines, as is the custom, and I stumbled in on a dance-off at one point and shimmied them into submission — and of course there was food and booze, and the food was cooked, unlike last year at the Coop when the chicken was raw.

When it comes to a party I have high expectations. I like dancing, lots of dancing, and very few photos. And last night I got dancing, lots of dancing, and it’s hard to dance and take photos. Perfect! I ruined my cracker hat and didn’t get a cracker toy or joke, but these disappointments were soon whisked away by the company; I think it’s what they put in the water, it was a fantastic night.

I need to achieve something, now. I need food. See you all on Monday!

Tomos James