It took me an hour to walk the 20 mins back to my car. I can only describe it as bouncing bedlam.
I rarely drink these days. I drove home parked up walked to local club. As I knew few of my mates had watched the match there. There was only mate left there. For some reason I thought it was apt to drink Manchester Union. Three pints later I'm car keys deep in a bag and I've taken two dodgy looking paracEtamol! The best of it was it was jazz club. I f***ing hate jazz. But it's never made more sense than it's did last night. I just sat there bobbing along to jazz trying to make sense of the day.
10 words or less.... I feel f***ing great today, for now!