After three heavy nights on the trot, there was just no way I could contemplate going out again Saturday. Particularly on top of the mother of all hangovers after an evening drinking and dancing with Petite Anglaise (planned) and Noodle (! - not planned) into the wee small hours and then (madly) walking home from Place de Clichy. After spending most of the day failing to buy a sofa (perfect model but too long a delivery time) or any food (couldn't face the thought of Monoprix) there was only one thing for it. Well, two things really - takeout pizza and champagne. Rhino75's own version of chicken soup. What better remedy for a jaded partygoer? Just to be on the safe side, we added in a bottle of (medicinal) red wine and my "Oliver" DVD in the background (obligatory camp touch). And settled down for an evening swapping stories about pizza delivery (I now know one young man who always "gets extra pepperoni" when he picks up the phone - and no jokes about cheezy crust, please), the comic genius of Ali G., classic British movies, soon-to-be-filmed French movies, musicals, food, the Brontë Sisters, George Eliot, first loves, last loves and which parties are coming up this week. Even Kitty joined us (rare). I woke up feeling like a new man. Actually, I woke up to this greasy pizza box, an overflowing ashtray and dirty wineglasses, but you know what I mean. Staying in - it's just what the doctor ordered.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Chicken Soup
After three heavy nights on the trot, there was just no way I could contemplate going out again Saturday. Particularly on top of the mother of all hangovers after an evening drinking and dancing with Petite Anglaise (planned) and Noodle (! - not planned) into the wee small hours and then (madly) walking home from Place de Clichy. After spending most of the day failing to buy a sofa (perfect model but too long a delivery time) or any food (couldn't face the thought of Monoprix) there was only one thing for it. Well, two things really - takeout pizza and champagne. Rhino75's own version of chicken soup. What better remedy for a jaded partygoer? Just to be on the safe side, we added in a bottle of (medicinal) red wine and my "Oliver" DVD in the background (obligatory camp touch). And settled down for an evening swapping stories about pizza delivery (I now know one young man who always "gets extra pepperoni" when he picks up the phone - and no jokes about cheezy crust, please), the comic genius of Ali G., classic British movies, soon-to-be-filmed French movies, musicals, food, the Brontë Sisters, George Eliot, first loves, last loves and which parties are coming up this week. Even Kitty joined us (rare). I woke up feeling like a new man. Actually, I woke up to this greasy pizza box, an overflowing ashtray and dirty wineglasses, but you know what I mean. Staying in - it's just what the doctor ordered.
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6 comments:
ahem ahem...
Extra pepperoni is always welcome!
Isn't it? - tho' we settled for cheezy crust. But now I know, I'll never look at "pepperoni man" in the same way again ;D
Bubbly with pizza!
Interesting idea... I won't knock it YET! Although it all depends on the Pizza now, was it rich, with loads of cheese and oil? Or crispy and full of the flavor of herbs, and spice?
Anyway, Bad news! They took away the Season 1 DVDs for Prison Break!?
What am I going to do? HELPME!
Poor thing, Pizza and Champagne, sounds like just what the Dr. ordered, eh? Sometimes is the simpler moments that we remember more than the full gallop, right? Kisses sweety!
Rob, I don't know how to tell you this but I've finished watching the whole season. Oh yes. I even ran back from dinner and Mary-tinis (is there a gayer drink?) on Monday night in order to fit in a couple of episodes. And it's wonderful. Mmmwuuhahaha. Babs, as always it's a pleasure to have your words of wisdom on this blog. Mwah!
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