Friends like these

I hate my friends.

Saturday saw Karen's wedding. A delightful opportunity for the schoolfriends (minus lazy Hazel who couldn't be arsed to pop over from New Zealand) to get together.

I'd forgotten how much I hated them.

I should qualify: Erica and Kath were very well behaved. They are still my friends. Karen looked lovely and she too is still my friend.

However.

Katy Who Smells of Wee and Helen Who Doesn't Have a Nickname Yet, but may soon become Helen the Arseface, were big nasty bullies to me all night.

Helen the Arseface and Katy Who Smells of Wee are rowers. I know this because they talk about it. A lot. They are both at least six foot four and weigh at least twenty stones each. I can say this because they can't hurt me over the internet.

I am five foot two and a half. I weigh very slightly over seven stones.

And so, at three separate opportunities during the evening, Helen the Arseface and Katy Who Smells of Wee ambushed me, physically picked me up - one of them taking my head, and the other taking my legs... and threw me on the floor in the gents toilets. Onto all the boy wee. Three times. Once, they even picked up the chair I was sitting on and took me and the chair into the gents.

TheBloke (TM) did nothing to defend my honour. To be fair, I think he was laughing too hard.

Perhaps this is all a desperate attempt on their behalf to get a mention in the Plog. They are bastards. Here is proof.

My biggest issue is that with all the time that I spent on the floor of the gents, it may very well now be me who smells of wee. Typical.