Signing in.
Garmin Connect positively livid with me this morning.
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Signing back out.
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I went out yesterday evening with my friends, friends, football friends. Got absolutely bollixed in Flight Club & then The Duke. Ordered a Pizza Hut delivery on way home around 1.30am but passed out on the couch when I got in. Yer delivery man hopped off the front door for ages apparently until my (still) life partner woke up & answered. I’d seemingly ordered chips, garlic bread & chicken tenders - not even a pizza. She couldn’t get me to stir so ate the chips & chicken tenders herself & went back to bed. I subsequently woke up around 4am & puked my ring up. I managed to tidy it & myself up a bit & got to bed eventually. I’ve been fucking dying all day & think my drinking days might be numbered, bar a few midweek Baileys Coffees in The 51 perhaps.
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A mother of all hangovers today. Puked several times and nearly shat my pants.
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You need to go on the offensive. Tell the bitch she drank your soakage and thus fucked with your excellent drink management for what you knew would be a rough night. Basically …
it was her that really made you puke.
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Wise choice. You clearly had your wits about you. Such as they are
TNH
How to turn a fox into an elephant 101
You lads are killing yourselves, and your joy.
I haven’t had a beer in almost a week. I’ve been molto productive, and very smug. (Ive rewarded myself with a few beers)
Hooch= no good .
You needed to go out again tonight. Here’s hoping you did
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Agreed, sure his children are nearly up at ttthis stage; he needs to be going out every night to progress his career, like that Gerald Keane fella. Tell her ‘sure, that’s the way its gone.’
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Why Pizza Hut?
My hazy recollection is it was the option with quickest estimated delivery time from the small number of options still delivering at 1.30am/2am. 
#safespace