Wine, spanners, crisps, military strategy and 'guy-liner'

Given that I know my way around Rioja wine pretty well anyway, I just glugged away...
I remember telling someone there he was the type who would "sup from a sweaty clog" - meaning he was a right caner and not too fussy about what was in his glass as long as it was alcoholic.
I don't think the bloke was beast pleased once he'd worked out what I meant (supping from a sweaty clog is something of a Wigan put-down, and not widely known outside that Lancashire town).
There was plenty of tapas-style food brought by our 12 guests - who included a very animated Dr Gyggle and Litherland Lou - and we all sat around a specially elongated dinner table in the style of a Renaissance painting of the Last Supper (the one with Judas looking dead shifty).
Anyway, all the grub stopped us all getting too giddy.
We had intended to stop the tastings at 11.30pm and toddle off to Liscard's La Narrowboat bar to finish off the evening in style, but actually we stayed at Posh Boots' place till the early hours, draining all the bottles and toasting Melony's recent birthday with cava.
It all happened last Saturday night. On Sunday it was the occasion of a lads' evening drink in the Telling Pole pub on the New Brighton / Liscard border.
I'd forgotten it was a lads night and bowled up with Posh Boots on my arm. Don't know if her presence cramped the boys' style that night and stopped them being manly and earthy in their conversation but, hey ho, men are from Mars and Women are from Wallasey Village and all that ...
I did ask the lads - Commuting Mitch, Fronk, Corky, Adnan Nauticus, and Eueueueuen among them - if having a woman at the table would stop them talking about things they would have raised has company had been exclusively male.
"What sort of things," they wondered...
"Well, you know," I replied, "men things ... crisps, spanners, military strategy ... where to buy the best moisturiser and 'guy-liner' - Superdrug or Boots?"
They gave me a funny look. They're not a very metrosexual bunch, Wallasey fellas.
Me, I've got an excuse; I lived in London for 16 years ...