Pre-Aberdeen

I phoned Euan today. He must have been having sex, because he sounded really exasperated and dried out, like a desert jelly fish. I decided to let him catch his breath, so phoned back a few minutes later. The nature of the phone-call was to organise going to Aberdeen on the 30th of this month. It is a friend’s birthday and she’s having a party, so a wee group of us decided to go up and celebrate with her.

I told Euan about Megabus prices, times and dates, but he said he wasn’t “willing to pay £11 for a return, if he’d have to sit next to some peewee smelling retard again”. I never knew he was still bitter about sitting next to Lisa Stott going to Edinburgh last month, but hey ho.

It was at this time that I did the honourable and noble thing and offered to drive up instead. Euan loved the idea, as he does with all of my ideas. If there is something he loves in life, it’s my driving. He loves it slightly more than he loves me, and just slightly less than he loves Aberdeen.

For some reason, that boy has an Aberdeen fetish. I have always said that the dregs who dwell in Aberdeen are “sheep fornicators” who should “have their genitals removed and given to science”, but Euan loves them. He once told me that he believes in reincarnation. He said that in his past life he was a man in Aberdeen, but he did something horrible (which I wont disclose here (he fucked his sister)) and now has to live out life as him, before he can be reincarnated again as Aberdeen. I tried explaining that that might just be all fiction, but he wasn’t standing for any of it. Poor wee blighter… gotta love his spirit, though!