Just spent the whole of yesterday evening and a good chunk of today at Jaz's ex to spend time with the kids and their house pets. It's alright. No one died of vicious clawing. The ex and I get along just fine now. Our conversations consist mainly of 'You awroight?' which would dutifully be answered with 'Yeah, I'm good. You?'. Such conversations are extremely versatile and it can be used from wandering into the kitchen while either of us are in there to coming out of the bathroom with either one crossing paths. Not that there is any deeper meaning in such an exchange. It's just an 'I acknowledge you being there so I shall now attempt a half-arsed conversation where your answer will not alter my life significantly' exchange and it is civil. Except of course she gets totally smashed off her face and then we would have a deep heart to heart where she would usually begin with telling me just how fucking gorgeous I looked through her glazed eyes. Whatever, as long as I am gorgeous. Never mind that she was well and truly pissed when she said it. But you know what? She's actually lovely. And I love lovely drunks. I grew up with one and that drunk taught me how to read. I love you, Dad. So fucking much. I love him so much when he used to drink shitloads because when he was intoxicated, I could do no wrong in his eyes. I was his star pupil, his child prodigy, the apple of his glazed eye. When he sobered up some 5-6 years ago, I turned out to be major disappointment to him in every manner. I should actually spike my Dad's drink. Really. I should be the voice of reason: Drink the elixir of Awesomeness and see how wonderful your daughter is and what a wanker your son is. Driiiiiiink...

Sibling rivalry eh. I don't think we came from the same sperm donor. Really. He just reeks so much of Eau du Arsehole.

Where was I? Yes. Lovely drunks. They might be a bit lairy but fuck yes, they are fucking amusing and I don't mean that in a condescending matter at all. I would rather have them be amusing than downright shit-scary. Now those fuckers should be given the lethal injection.

I need to go out and get totally smashed again in a club. Or someone's living room. I'm easy. As long as there is plenty of floor space for me to spontaneously collapse on.