Water Works

I'm Afraid You'll Have To Persist Here
We will get to the H2O en-masse in a bit, I just have to impress you with how clever I am in the meantime*.

An example of H2O en masse

     Okay, we had a deficit of fresh material last night because Conrad went out after work with his colleagues, inhaling a whisper or two of alcohol, and didn't get back home until late.  Then it was Soak-Up-The-Booze-With-Grilled-Meats-In-A-Bun time, which again took time, meaning I didn't get on-line until well after 10 p.m.
     "But Conrad!" I can hear you quibble.  Maybe remonstrate**, certainly quibble.  "You were in central Manchester, where there are copious** sources of the Soak-Up-The-Booze-With-Grilled-Meats-In-A-Bun.  Why did you not avail** yourself there?"
     I did look in at MacDonalds on the way to my bus stop, but it was very busy and the bus was already there, so my acquaintance with the "Big Tasty" shall have to wait.
     "Conrad and his busy social life!" I can hear you saying.  "You mean he has friends?" I also hear you adding, AT YOUR PERIL!
     Well now, if the Intro is over, let the motley begin!

The Night Out
Don't worry, Conrad is well aware that there is little posted on the internet more boring than pictures of other people having a good time.  By definition 99.99999% of all viewers will not have been present, meaning that they have no idea who Brian is, nor why we should be interested in his drinking a Porn Star Martini, and his tabletop dancing is, frankly, rather weak.
     That being said, I took the pictures so you ARE going to see them.  With hilarious captions.

Carol on the right

     The last time Carol came out on a works do, she was photographed by one of the Bright Young Things present, and the (slightly embarrassing) photo was on Facebook within minutes.  Carol, being one of the pre-Facebook generation, was horrified at how quickly such candid stuff was made available for the whole world.  She learned.

Half of Tom, the whole of Russ and Liam

     Yes, that is Liam of the fantastically expensive teeth.  The brightest things in shot, indeed, even including his UV-flourescing tee shirt.

Gosh, writing on a napkin

     This was - you already guessed, didn't you? - Conrad performing a public service.  Since by this time the music was so loud you had to bellow into your fellow's ear to be heard, I thought a notice would help.

Carol The Party Animal still present

     The blond lady who isn't Carol is Cathryn, who arranged the event.  We got to know Cathryn's amours in detail, as By Jove! she is a forthcoming young lady.  The Youth Of Today, quotes Conrad, shaking his head***. 

Jo centre stage: the emotional eye of a drink-fuelled hurricane

     And there you have it, hopefully short and sweet.  No pictures of Brian dancing on the table wearing a White Russian, as I'm sure you appreciate.

Conrad Paints A Picture
NO!  Not literally, your modest artisan has trouble drawing a straight line with a ruler.  
     "Oh no not another painful metaphor or allegory," I hear you whimper.  "Enough!"
     Relax.  I speak of a childishly-created portrait thus:

Hilarious, no?

     It made me laugh.  My lunch, for your information.  Grilled Lorne sausage on toasted cheese, topped with a poached egg drizzled with Cola Chipotle.  Filling stuff, too.

Now For The Watery Bit
As you know - for you HAVE been reading BOOJUM! for ever so long now, right? - there are three benchmark things that Conrad hates, HATES, HATES above all else: The Metro, First Bus, and Shakespeare.
     There may be foreign readers out there who were raised to believe that the Barf Of Avon is some kind of literary superhero, and who now stand aghast** that Conrad can execrate** him so.  Tough!  Tougher than tough!  And tonight we have more hateful stuff:

"Which, if taken at the flood -"

Listen, Bill, this is no good.

Your skill is in dramatic blether,

Not in water, nor in weather.

Better start to play around.

Or I'll put you underground.

Why do I hate Shakespeare so?

The answer lies in long ago.

Whilst doing English "O" or "A"

From Bill you could not get away.

This churl who infested Avon,

Scribbling, dribbling, well past saving,

Praised by critics all illiterate,

To Conrad he's just not that great.

The world know him as "The Bard".

Conrad thinks he should be beaten, hard.

     There you go, Prospero.


* I'm not insecure, just - needy -
** - and fond of pseudy words.
*** Although he didn't put his fingers in his ears, observes Mister Hand