(no subject)

[skyring]

I don't usually have my mobile phone on me, least of all at nine on a Sunday morning. Hell, even when I do have it with me, half the time I can't hear it ring.

So when I walked into my bedroom a little while back and heard a beeping, I guessed it was my daughter's phone beeping through the wall. Maybe mine, running low on battery again.

But no, it's a message for me. Voicemail, and it's a drunken party with Lizmopuddy and Shadiehawke yelling out recorded greetings and an unidentifiable male Irish voice complaining about that "bloody answering machine again" and declaring "I'm not even going to fukken say who I am!", so it's a bit of a mystery.

I tried to call back, honest I did, but it's an hour or so later and there was no number linked to it, so that didn't work out and all I can say is I'm sorry I missed you, I'll get a Skype number, and hugs and manly handshakes all round - how I love you people!

Comments

[wheres-my-tea.livejournal.com]

I loved the Dublin Literary Pub Crawl! I was too poor to drink much, which does mean I can remember most of it...