hungover and moody

Teeter.

For those of you not 100% savvy with the entity that is Jennifer Teeter, I say to you now, you don't know how lucky you are. Out we went, into the night of yore (yesterday) and drinks we drank. Merry we made and drunk we got, helped in no small part to the teets using her vocal capabilities to woo a moderatley crowded bar in a Karaoke contest, and once Justonian decided he could face up to the girlfriends wrath and went home, we somehow ended going round to some random guy's house with the express purpose of watching Liverpool v Chelsea and drinkning Absinthe. I woke up on said random's couch this morning with a thumping headache wearing a Liverpool shirt that I'm pretty sure I don't own, only to find a distinct absence of Teeter anywhere.

This in itself would not have been overly alarming save for the fact that she had to catch a plane at some stage in the early afternoon.... so myself and Perry, a guy who Jen had picked up earlier in the week (as she is wont to do), spent a few hours freaking out wondering where the sam hell our girlie had got to. Long story short, it turns out she had woken up, picked my pocket for house keys, and legged it back, getting to the airport on time (I assume). Having been familiar with the teetahhh and her habits in days past I was pretty sure this was what was happened - not so her boy toy Perry. For all intents and purposes, he went a bit mad. I'll not go into too many explicit details, but suffice it to say at one stage, when we were waiting for the bus (no money for a taxi), he 'vented' his angst by a spot of impromptu busking - standing on the side of Aucklands main shopping street and singing in a very loud, very uneven manner. Luckily I was too busy trying to make the world stop whirling to care much...

Teeter, your name does indeed mean trouble in every language under the sun.

But we love you all the same.

Safe home.