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Sunday 13th July 2003

I thought having a party at home would be easy.
I was very wrong.
Not only was it hard work buying all the food and drink and preparing it so it was ready for my ungrateful guests (only joking there, they were all very sweet, especially considering how drunk I was), you then have to wake up the next morning (I must have eaten a dodgy bit of chicken cos my head and throat really hurt) to be greeted by the filth and squallor that having fun creates.
And you can't walk away, because you have to live here.
And like the "friends" of the prodigal son, all the guests who enjoyed your hospitality have buggered off when it comes to the hard work.
Luckily for me, Ben Moor from Planet Mirth had stayed over (on the sofa-bed. There's nothing "funny" going on - as you'll know if you saw Planet Mirth. Ha ha!). He very kindly assisted me for a couple of hours.

There is nothing as pleasurable as having to pour away the dregs from wine bottles and beer cans when you have a hangover.
Except possibly having to clean out the barbecue.

The wages of sin are having to tidy up afterwards.

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