When the hounds come around, I go to the bottle

As I walked into my room, I had the odd sensation of not recognising anything in it. I could not get comfortable on my futon. No manner of leaning could dispell the feeling of discomfort. Feet up, feet down, twisting and turning... I had realized, too late, that I had lurched into a party where I knew no one. I had a strange feeling that the memories associated with the rooms contents were not my own. And that these past stories were created before I was even there. I was a mere apparition of these past tunes. A silhouette, lingering on at the behest of demanding memories. A change of socks fixed everything.

So I tried to embarrass Ol'Stuntcock in front of his workmates while not getting kicked out of the pub. A balance of Ying and Yang baby! Spring breeds mayhem. I nearly got into a biffo in the toilets (which was diffused with liberal doses of the phrase "fuck off mate!") and was scared everytime a security guard walked towards me. I swear someone spiked my drink or something...

Congratulations to my fruity lover in getting engaged. I thought I dreamt it up in a drunken haze. Too bad I didn't get to catch up with you, Crackers and Mel. Somehow I imagine you doing the Hosey as your wedding dance...