Tripping on the red velvet rope.

So just who does go out on a school night?

I will tell you. Young people, single people, gay young single people, gay old single people, casts from reality TV shows, people from “the media”, air kissers, ass kissers and models.

Not mummy bloggers.

Last night I took my hag fag as my plus one to the launch of the Stoli Original Casting Call, which was a party for the vodka brand. I still cannot see the connection between the Playboy bunnies…. but anyway.

St Murphy, Flopsy and Cottontail.

Part of the celebrations was to promote a new cocktail, a super secret cocktail. A cocktail which was gleefully sampled and turned out to be like tasting pure vomit with a rat sack chaser. Fred, the boss of Stoli, was standing with me as I tried it, and asked what I thought of it.

I told him what I thought of it.

And then a camera crew got in my face and asked me what I thought of the secret new super special cocktail, and Fred, the boss of Stoli, told them to go and ask someone else.

We then “dropped in*” to the opening of the new Sydney live music venue The Standard which delightfully had Neil Finn playing. A pal of mine “designed the space” and that “space” was pumping. St Murphy and I were totally preoccupied chatting and did not notice that someone had swiped our Stoli Goodie Bags! Damn you thief….. damn you to hell! My your conscience be hungover for all eternity.

The VIP room was full of Sydney’s beautiful people all wearing black and acting very very cool. A few of them actually looked over at me when I slipped down some stairs but no one came rushing to my aid. Tres Uncool! I vowed not to assist any of them in the toilets later if they ran out of loo paper.

“Has anyone got any toilet paper?”

Bite me.

And as the clock moved towards midnight, by feet started to hurt and seeing that St Murphy had met the new love of his life, I decided to take my mummy blogger ass home.

I lay in bed this morning thinking about my night out. And I thought I should share some tips and things I learnt.

You must eat at events. But avoid pork belly. I love pork belly but I chose a bit that was pure fat so I had to spit it out into my hand. This happened one second before I was introduced to someone who stuck out their hand to shake my hand and then I had to explain I could not shake their hand because I was holding a cube of pork lard.

Try not to stand between two beautiful tall models. It is VERY bad for one’s ego. And for god’s sake, if someone pulls out a camera to take your photo while you are standing in between two beautiful models, do not pull a Zoolander face. Because you will end up looking like a dick.

Looking like a dick…..

When you attend more than one function on one night, you do not really attend. You “drop in.” Because you want to seem busy and important and time poor. And uncommitted.

You have the ability to meet and make at least a dozen new friends who you instantly follow on twitter and drunkenly declare how you cannot believe you have managed to get through your whole life without knowing them. And then you immediately forget their name.

If you end up speaking to someone who is mentally bankrupt, compliment them on an item of their clothing before declaring you need to go and use the latrine.

A Pie Face Sausage roll and sauce in the cab on the way home is a little slice of heaven right there.

The time your kids wake up is directly NOT in proportion to the time you go to bed.

And finally I learnt something about myself, and that is…………………..