A tale of love and hate
My dear friend Swizzy Tim likes to express his gut emotions. Here are two tales about him (the first has become lore, and the second only happened last month):
Swizzy Time and NLJ were mates in a casual sort of way until one night when their friendship reached a new level of closeness. We were having a house party at the tower and Swizzy Time had been drinking rather a lot. He was with a group of people in NLJ’s room, admiring NLJ’s keyboard* when all of a sudden his eyes glazed over, he began to look unwell and NLJ had time for nothing but to cup his hands under the ensuing remnants of Swizzy Tim’s dinner, thus happily saving his keyboard and cementing a lifelong friendship with Swizzy Tim.
Swizzy Tim was recently embroiled in a love triangle, which ended as soon as he found out that he was embroiled in a love triangle. Heartbroken and bitter**, he spent the evening angrily strumming his guitar *** and drinking a combination of red wine and whisky.
(Swizzy Tim has asked me to advertise all salient details like name, address and physical description of the She Devil but I’ll just say her name starts with R and she works in Customer Complaints for an airline. If any of you are time-rich enough to track her down and slap her in the face on behalf of Swizzy Tim for instigating the love triangle saga I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun by making it too easy.)
So She Devil R. came around that night to be verbally abused by Swizzy Tim. She went upstairs to his room while he spoke briefly with his housemates. He then followed her upstairs to find her lying on the floor. She sat up, and he sat down next to her and … spewed all over her, which is the last thing he remembers of that night. She is now known by all and sundry as Spewy.
*I know that sounds like a euphemism, but it isn’t.
** For about a day and a half
*** Again, not a euphemism