What the...?

Having had a long day of hard work followed by an even longer night of hard liquor it was perhaps unsurprising to discover the next day that exhaustion had prevented me from leaving my clothes anywhere other than the floor. And it was by no means the first time that a half eaten packet of crisps, the evidence of a belated atempt at soaking up the alcohol, appeared to have been scattered on my bedside table. Nor could it be considered unusual that my missing house keys had turned up still in the lock of the front door - although that last had only recently become a worrying development.

What was strange, however, was my mobile 'phone. My best guess is that I had been attempting to 'sleep-text' in the middle of the night. No message actually got sent and who I believed I was writing to is a mystery but upon a morning inspection of my 'phone I discovered that I had been composing a slightly bizarre message. It read like this...

"Whats ur e-mail address again? Need 2 stay in touch! Mine is +65 followed by blue, red"

And there it ended, apparently unfinished. If anyone out there has any insight into what the fuck was going on in my brain that night I would love to hear from you! I honestly have not a clue!

Anyway, enough of that twaddle. I'm off to chow down on some bits and pieces of animals you wouldn't normally consider eating all minced up and cooked inside a plastic bag that's been made to represent a sheeps stomach, all whilst enjoying the skirl o' the pipes and steadily getting bladdered on fine whisky. I probably ought to hide my 'phone first, though... Happy Burns Night to ye all!

Slàinte m'dears!