God I'd forgotten how it feels to be beautifully drunk. I've had a few weeks off hitting the sauce heavily, but last night made a glorious return to drunkeness with a bottle of wine. Unfortunately this put me in a very suggestible state, so off I was carted to Lounge - easily the worst club in Bristol.

Things got better though - in my inebriated state, I made friends with some Welshmen who told me I could have a bottle of beer if I downed it. I duly obliged and struck up a conversation. These guys quickly became my partners in crime, female-wise.

I opened a very pretty girl near the bar. God only knows what I said to her, but we had good rapport, kino, and she was definitely into me. Right up to the point when I asked her for her number. Boyfriend. Predictably. I may have been a douche at this point and started asking if they were happy, and that giving me her number wasn't exactly us having wild, steamy, passionate sex. Her eyes lit up at this point, but she turned it into a laugh and politely declined.

More success was to be had on the dancefloor. My dancefloor game has come on in leaps and bounds of late, due in no small part to my decision to go natural and just concentrate on enjoying myself. I got talking to a very nice blonde 8 (well by talking, I mean limited, shouting-in-each-others-ears dancefloor talking). I told her she looked stunning and took it from there. She was unenthusiastic about kissing me (despite a fair amount of drunken wizardry from yours truly), but I got her number which was immediately texted with Mr K's "OMG [name] who was that hot guy u just gave ur number to??"

It worked and she's texted a bit this morning, most recently with the immeasurably unoriginal "did you have a good night then? are you at Bristol uni?"

I'm thinking about busting her balls for it (so to speak)...any thoughts fellas?