On the Weekend That Was

Yes, I know its Tuesday, but as far as I'm concerned, I deserved another Sunday after that weekend, so I renamed Monday. It shall henceforth be known as "Sunday II: The Revenge of the Weekend". Or in my case, "Day for cleaning up house that got an industrial strength catering pack trashing on Friday night, followed by a decent additional messing up of on Sunday, compounded by an inability to clean up Friday's trashing on Saturday due to severe hangover". Not a very catchy title though.
After the much-hyped Bus Trip failed to materialise, c/o- The Texas Party Bus, who apparently now owe us a free bus trip, there was the aforementioned trashing of the Green Room, including the cracking of one flatmate's window, and the eating of another flatmates cheese (Not happy flatties!!). Ben did, however, reclaim his rightful place on the sofa. It was also a pretty cool party, well the bits that I remember were anyway.
Saturday consisted of some sleeping, a tiny bit of tidying, and a lot of hangover, followed by work, which was just buckets of fun.
Sample incident:
Old Lady: I'll have the scallops
Me: OK, one scallops then. I'll get you some scallops. Scallops it is then. Righty-ho, bring on the scallops.
Old Lady: Thank you, I'm very much looking forward to my scallops.
(upon arrival of meal)
Me: Here are your scallops then
Old Lady: No, I didn't want that, I ordered the calamari.
Me: Oh silly me, I thought that when you ordered the scallops you actually wanted to have scallops, and that when I repeated the order back to you, ie "scallops" and you said "Yes", I foolishly thought that it was scallops that you wanted for your dinner. How frightfully dim of me to assume that it was the scallops you wanted. I should have known that you wanted calamari. It should have been blindingly obvious that you wanted calamari when you ordered scallops, YOU STUPID OLD COW JUST EAT THE FUCKING SCALLOPS YOU WHINGING OLD BAT AND I HOPE YOU FUCKING CHOKE ON THEM AND FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE DON'T YOU KNOW I HAVE A FUCKING HANGOVER FROM HELL FUCK OFF AND SHOVE YOUR FUCKING SCALLOPS UP YOUR WITHERED OLD ARSE YOU FUCKING PAIN IN MY FUCKING ARSE!!!!!
So that was nice.
After work it was the farewell of the Artist Formerly Known as Fishboy, I arrived and all were in varying stages of intoxication, but there was pizza, so I was happy.
Then Sunday came around, and Pols kicked some History arse (again, I mean, like you thought there was any hope?!). I did a pretty good impersonation of Adam's personal target, which was just jolly, and then Mark burnt some sausages.
All in all, it was a weekend of two days (that ended up being nearly four), and the liquor industry was the winner on the day.
I'm hoping you will all come to visit me in rehab.