Warning: This post was published more than 13 years ago.
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I have just come in from Sarah’s birthday party (no, I haven’t been drinking). It was the most fantastically amusing event in a very long time.
After going to her house and having food, we proceeded to play ‘party games’. The first one was sticking stickers with names of objects on each other’s heads and trying to identify said objects, which was fairly normal when you were, say, seven, but strangely unusual when you are sat round with ten students. Obviously, the very fact we were playing this game amused me, but at this point I felt I managed to hide it quite well and respectably.
The laughter flood-gates opened when, after about five minutes, Sarah suggested a new game, the rules of which were “You are only allowed to ask questions”. That’s it. We had to sit and ask questions. The first person to utter a non-question lost. I failed to see the difficulty in this, as we sat in a circle say “Do you like tea?”, “Are snakes harmful?” and “What do you feed hamsters?” The game could have continued ad infinitum. And I was nearly wetting myself with the ridiculousness.
Four of us (Me, the two girls I’m moving in with in September, and another girl) then made our weary way home, with me (as usual) still giggling, and regularly setting everyone else off. I think their general thoughts of me being a psycho weren’t aided by me trying to start the stimulating (I think) conversation of “If you had to kill someone in the room, who would it be?”. I think this is incredibly interesting, but everybody (including JRC) has stared at me like I’m an axe murderer every time I ask it. Never mind.
So the general thought is that most of my friends think I’m mentally unbalanced (nothing new there), and several of my flat mates think I’m pissed since I’m still laughing now.
Anyway, I have some milk that’s off in the fridge that needs throwing out, so I’m off to do that now.
Originally posted on The LBSC