One week, one day, stags and hens.

What do stag nights mean to you? To me they mean trips to Dublin, waking up tied to lampposts, strippers, waaaaay too much alcohol and excuse for excessive sexism and then paintballing the next day. Very good friends, people I love and admire have done this but somehow gigs or previous appointments have kept me away from the paintballing. Shame.
The last stag night I went on was great. I spent hours in a pub discussing Art Deco architecture (I was bluffing, having just been to the Art Deco exhibition at the V&A) and drinking, maybe, at a push two whole pints. The next day was paintballing but I had to be back in Oxford for two gigs.
I've been invited to the paintballing party that is Dave (trombonist and sound wizard) from Soul Beaver's but, hey, look at that! I'll be in Italy.

A theme of this wedding is the last minute and, dare I say, half arsed nature of some of the celebrating. I blame only myself for this but the reality is that tomorrow my 'stag do' will take the form of meeting few friends to see a band, have a few drinks and then skulk home.

Jenna's hen night is yet to be sorted out.

Now, on a techy note - despite my strong allegiance to all things Apple, I am terrifically impressed by the Mozilla Firefox browser, which allows me to make the blogging experience much less stressful and complicated. It's not as slick looking as Safari but seems more web friendly by several leagues.

Expect pictures from the stag night? Hmmm.

Current listening: End of the Game - Sting


Popular Posts