My final night in the pub with my Dad and his friends tonight. Most social circles have a pub night, Thursday is my Dad's. There's general excitement all round that I'm off to work on a national station. I end up getting really f#cking drunk. It never ceases to amaze me the ammount of sh#t I talk when I have a few too many jars. I can't remember specifics but I do recall thinking I was squirting out b#llocks at a pretty consistent rate.
The bit I enjoy the most though is the wander home when me and Pop's talk about life, the universe and everything. It's odd really to notice the number of things that are simmilar between the two of us. Obviously I must copy his mannerisms and so forth but it's strange to realise the extent to which I do that. Little turns of phrase here and there which I thought were my own are actually things my Dad says.
Being bladdered and in the presence of my parents is less odd than it used to be but still something I don't handle all that well. I become self conscious, not something that goes well with being drunk.
We look round Birmingham soon for a flat.