Chips And Fish

Friday night saw the re-opening of "Chunk", which has now moved venue from South Central to Area. Apparently there was a big falling out between the promoters of Chunk and South Central over the Bar-B-Q (food - a typically "bear" thing to fall out over) which means that Fridays at SC are now called Bloke, whilst Chunk is a 5 min walk down the road. We popped into Bloke on the way but nobody was there, so we had one drink and walked to Chunk.

They say that Paris Hilton would attend the opening of a crisp packet (although recently I would imagine the only opening she's attended has been that of her cell-mate), and with bears this is also true, quite literally. Bears have never seen a buffet they don't like. So the bears had flocked to the opening of Chunk and were rewarded with big plates of chips. Very nice chips too. I didn't have any of course, I'm watching my weight. At least, I didn't have any when people were watching.

There seemed to be a large group of guys over from Atlanta, and I vaguely recognised one from chatting on the internet. Needless to say we snogged, then asked each other's name, then The Boyf cut in with a "Shouldn't we all be in bed somewhere?". So off we went to take turns biting the pillow. Good old Southern hospitality.

I don't think I'd ever tire of hearing "Go on Boy, take that big cock" in a Southern drawl.

We spent Saturday doing quiet things as we needed to be up early on Sunday for a drive to the Midlands (again) for The Boyf's Dad's birthday meal. To try to make something of the day we stopped by at Birmingham Sea-Life Centre on the way as I like me some fish. I don't know why I torture myself though. Every time I come away from such a place I berate myself for not following through with my childhood desire to be a Marine Biologist. Perhaps when I retire I can move somewhere and spend my days diving and helping the underwater environment. It's a dream at any rate...