Sunday, November 07, 2004


I woke this morning with the distinct impression that I had visited a recently burned-out building in the night, knelt down and licked the carpet. Fears of being a freaky somnambulist soon evaporated as I realised the reason for the taste in my mouth - I had had a cigar the night before.

Now, since I'm not a smoker and only indulge in cigars once every....oh.... 6 to 12 months, the cells in my body have time to recover, detox, spawn new cells, die, regrow, lose the collective memory of The Day The Smoke Came and be generally unprepared for the evident havoc that a cigar wreaks on them. Then they panic and lose all faith in my ability to govern them. The fact that this particular cigar was accompanied by a horrendous amount of 190 proof* liquor when M and I went out late that night to let off our own fireworks didn't help matters either.

*(this is a correction, I originally had it as 98% proof. What I drank was 95% alcohol. This may explain a lot of things.)

So what does Monica do one one of the handful of occasions in her life that she is properly drunk?

She sits down at her computer and fires up an irc client, that's what.

I am a party ANIMAL, folks. Just let me loose on all those skulking 14 year olds and dirty old men typing one handed.

I actually had a look at some of the conversations today and realised a couple of interesting things.

* I don't actually compose sentences differently when I'm drunk. I don't talk about different things or change my world view. My vocabulary is exactly the same. I jsut slu r my typping. Physical coordination goes out the door. It's the equivalent of typing with baseball mitts on.

* Social niceties have never been my thing, even though I can simper and murmur platitudes with the best of them. In fact, the more I care for you the more direct I'll be. Last night, I loved EVERYONE.

[poor sod who will remain un-nicked] asl?

[Monica__] 26/f/london - you?

[poor sod who will remain un-nicked] 19/m/calif

[poor sod who will remain un-nicked] so, you got a bf?

[Monica__] married

[poor sod who will remain un-nicked] you want a lover?

[poor sod who will remain un-nicked] *wink*

[Monica__] a 19 yearold llover? Yo;ve got to be kidding. Do tou think I run a school of unstruction for inexperienced children?*

*Note: 'instruction' posed me with some problems where the more difficult to type 'inexperienced' was a breeze. Wonky, wonky brain.

[poor sod who will remain un-nicked] awwww, come on why not ?

[Monica__] Because when not biusy boring me in bed you would like'ly abuse me with speeech. A mere 10 muinutes of which would drive meinto a stupor from the sheer despondency of getting anything of value or interest from yor conveaarsation..

[Monica__] also - Disd I mention the 'married" bit?

[poor sod who will remain un-nicked] so yu wanna be my lover?

[Monica__] nNot very bright , are you?

This continued for a while until I completely forgot about him amidst the torrent of other conversation windows from people just itching to be insulted by me. I did my best.

Anyway, this wasn't meant to be a post showing how utterly geeky I can be, it's a post to explain why my Guy Fawkes fireworks piece is a day late. It's because I couldn't edit the damn thing in my state, if I had it would likely have been about 'Guuy FAwks' and 'firw orks' - and no-one wants to see that.


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