Rubiks Cube Party

or the 12356th episode in our "homo-erotic party" saga. Twas very very good funs. Rex, Ad and I vanquished the greater london transport network to arrive successfully in the London at an early time, where we finished getting various presents for Shing. Mainly the voucher for her crazy crazy bead shop, which is in an awesome little segment of London called 7 dials. Obviously Ad hated the area, where as me and Rex found it cool and quaint. We pottered around in Covent Garden as well before wandering back to Victoria via the power of our legs, and destruction of souls. A handy starbucks on the way helped, before entering the abode of Shing.

Soon mine and rexxor's hair was being turned blue by some concoction of chemicals, and Dan and Tracey arrived in a flurry. We pootled down to the play pool for a bit before heading to the shakespeare for a particularly awful set of meals, including my fish and chips that had literally been drowned in fat/grease. Yum.

After that we said bye bye to Tracey, and headed back to prepare ourselves for the party of brightly coloured fashion accessories. It was similar to morphing into power rangers, but without the hot pink one. In a surprise act of intelligence, Dan, Rex and I had only brought spirits, instead of the usual hangover instigating beer. Though we did get 2 bottles of vodka and 1 of Whiskey, though by the end of the night only managed the first litre bottle of vodka. Though to be fair we drank vast quantities of punch, cunningly distributed in one of Shing's presents, a cocktail fountain. I not sure how to describe the whole evening, people ended up in various states of undress, mainly Rex and Dan, who foolishly traded underwear covering devices for thin air it would appear. Luckily I used swift of hand, mild deception, and middle man tactics to become entirely yellow, which made me look like a 90s Raver. Good times. Near the end, Rex, Dan, sometimes Ad and I, started singing the Grand Old Duke of York, utilising a well known Rugby drinking game, good fun, though astoundingly loud.

As the night drew to the close, new Dan played far too much 80s, and our souls were devoured, especially as 8 or so people smooshed into Shing's room, and new Dan kept talking.

And talking.

And talking. Luckily interspersed with my razor sharp dry and sticky wit... *ahem*...