Nun the wiser
Trying to remember last weekend’s events is proving a tad difficult given the sheer volume of liquid beverages consumed, and my out-of-practiceness/inability to pace oneself. *ahem*
It all started with an idea to avoid being a lettuce, that started something like this: “We have alot of black clothes, don’t we? Well – we should go as nuns then”.
And indeed we did.
I decided to make my headress because I was feeling adventureous and had also left it far too late to order anything off of ebay. A couple of meters of black cloth from Lewisham later, and a battle with my mum’s sewing machine, I was looking the part. So much so that when I came downstairs for the first time I was told that I wasn’t expected to look quite that much like a nun. Result. But on getting to Bea’s house – she said I should stop looking so authentic and put a short skirt on to become slutty nun to her sparkly. It worked for me.
We had many strange looks on the way into town, probably because so very few other people were actually in fancy dress. We stopped off in one pub on the way that we had vague memories of being “nice”. They were having kareoke. Gaaaah. I did laugh when I read the text from ‘er: you can’t truly appreciate how out of tune she is. But I can here in the bogs. She was bloody awful, and it was decided to drink up very quickly – just as the compare asked if the nuns would like to stand up and do a number. *run away*
We finally caught up with Hayley and everyone else in the Brunny and more drinks were consumed. It was a bit shouty and a bit dead in there, so we decided to get some more money and go to good old Cafe Rene. We would decide later if we wanted to carry on to Crappers with the others. Of course, the trouble with that is once you get comfy in Cafe Rene the desire to leave deminishes.
We were taken into the fold of the other dressed up people in Rene and given some very strange black drink with bits in by a woman dressed in a red feather boah. And it was good. There was the usual dancing and drinking and talking to strange people – aided by the being in costume.
Lots of people wanted to confess their sins to us (which was technically wrong, as we weren’t priests – but it was good to hear them anyway). But I must say that the sins were a little tame: anal sex (not with another man), sleeping with people you shouldn’t etc etc. The people of Gloucester have no imagination. I have a rather hazy recollection of Bea making some bloke take his clothes off as punishment and me holding them. I wasn’t entirely sure where we were going with that at one point, but you know me – I like to go with the flow.
Now, I may have dreamt this: but some people came up to us and said they wanted to take our pictures (we were quite sweaty nuns at this point) because we’d won. They had a quite official looking camera. I’m quite scared of what will happen to those photos :S
I actually think I’m still hungover. I’m never going to drink again. Baaaah.
-moosh
Nothing (much) To Report 