I like a woman with spirit, I do, I do, I do*

Amber, Matt, Mark and I took a little trip to Belfast last weekend. Why Belfast you ask (as many of you have)? Because we got £15 return flights.

Just to put things in perspective, the very very very early morning cab to Stanstead Airport on Saturday cost us £58, or approximately £15 each. And the Stanstead Express train from the airport to Liverpool Street on Monday morning cost us £17. Apparently airplanes are cheaper to run than trains.

Belfast is an interesting city. The city centre has a brand spanking new shopping centre, complete with glass dome roof and viewing platform, and filled with higher end high street shops. However, the outer suburbs are run down, cement clad, and generally grey.

Saturday we started off with brunch at the local farmers markets, where we ate our way through olives, tapenade, sausage rolls, pig on a spit on a roll, lollies that looked like a cooked breakfast, and some oysters. Matt didn't realise that he had to shuck them himself, which he tried to do with Amber's contraband nail file, before admitting defeat and sheepishly going back to the vendor to open them for him.

From there we made our way to the aforementioned shopping centre so that I could purchase some new boots, as mine were falling apart and about two hours away from an Angela-at-Oktoberfest-esque gaffa tape fix. We went to every store in the centre without any luck, and as a last resort I went to the Puma shop, where I fell in love with some black leather biker boots. Of course I bought them, and proceeded to sing an amended version of a Calvin Harris song for the rest of the time: "oooh, I've got new shoes and I'm ready for the weekend!"

As international lovers of the Hoponhopoff Bus Tour, we decided to do a big bus tour around the city. We saw the dry dock where the Titanic was built, lots of murals commemorating the Troubles, Falls Road (dubbed whores road by Amber) where the Catholics live, Shankhill Road (dubbed skanksville road by Amber) where the Protestants live, an abandoned courthouse, a converted prison, and learnt a little more about the history of Belfast. We also froze our freakin arses off. We were sitting on the open top of the bus and the wind chill factor brought the temperature down to about zero we reckon. Matty and I snuggled together in a feeble attempt to maintain core body temperature.

After the tour we decided to warm ourselves up in a nice pub down a random alley way with some wine for the ladies and Guinness for the gents, and some Wallabies rugby union action for everyone. The drinks and the early morning meant that we all required a little nap (two hours) before dolling ourselves up and heading out to experience Belfast's nightlife.

The cab driver that took us from the airport to the hotel had suggested we go to a bar called Kelly's, which we found and quickly walked past. After a fantastic dinner at an Argentinean restaurant we sought out a couple of bars that Mark's friend had suggested. It was at this point that we decided not to listen to anyone else's suggestions. The bars were packed to the rafters with middle aged women wearing sequin minidresses on hens parties and deeply unattractive men over the age of 40. We didn't even finish our drinks before high tailing it out of there and heading to a younger part of town ("somewhere that doesn't have a median age of 55 please cab driver!") and found ourselves at a bar called the Spaniard, which reminded me a lot of Ric's (my favourite bar in Brisbane). While we were wedged between Amber's new best dreadlocked friend and freakin couple's make out corner, we had a few drinks and laughs. Around midnight I decided to leave the others to it and head home, after which they hit the vodka redbulls and then went to some underground club that didn't serve alcohol but actually did serve alcohol. I recall Amber stumbling in around 4am, animatedly telling me about the club, and declaring that possibly she had had too many redbulls.

Unfortunately Amber wasn't so animated on the Sunday, so we left her in the room to watch television and order clam chowder from room service, and the boys and I went out to find some brunch. We then realised it was nearly 1pm, so turned our attentions to lunch, and boy did we find it. The only place we could find that was open had a three-course Sunday pub lunch on, which we enjoyed whilst reading the papers and listening to Matt's stories about his hilarious and embarrassing childhood.

With the afternoon to fill we decided to do a black cab tour, which was promised to be more informative and personal than the Hoponhopoff tour that we had done the previous day. It would have been if the driver hadn't spent so much time slagging off the bus tour and telling us that he wouldn't be telling us this or that because we didn't have time. It was still interesting as he took us to different parts of the town, though Mark and I didn't like it when he made us get out of the cab to look at a mural because there were some nasty looking women with tattoos staring us down. Fortunately though, we survived to make it up to Belfast Castle with it's beautiful views over the port.

Back at the hotel we rustled up Amber and headed out for dinner. A local information computer kiosk thing in the reception listed a modern Irish restaurant called Tony Roma's about 0.4miles from the hotel, which we thought would be perfect. Tony Roma's turned out to be an American restaurant about 2 miles from the hotel. Whatever, we still ate there and were reminded of why American's have the highest rate of obesity - the servings were unnecessarily huge. After dinner we went back to the hotel to watch X Factor (go Jedward), pack, and prepare for our early morning departure.

It was really interesting to spend a weekend in a rather non-destination city, and find out a bit more about it's turbulent history. I can't say I would go back again, but I definitely enjoyed it.

"Oooh, I put on my shoes and I'm ready for the weekend"
Calvin Harris

* Amber's catchphrase for the weekend, from Monty Python if I am correct

Catch up

It's been a busy last couple of weeks, and while I have lots to share I also have lots of work to do. Damn career getting in the way of my personal life.

Last Wednesday Angela and I went to see Phoenix at Brixton Academy. It was all a bit Three Stooges getting there, as we completely missed the stop, were laughed at by some 13 year old girls, and then had to make our way back. However it was all worth it as Phoenix were AWESOME! I have to admit that I wasn't the biggest fan of Phoenix, having only heard their old album thanks to Nathy putting it on my iPod, but agreed to go and keep Angela company. But the venue was fantastic, the sound and lighting were amazing, and Phoenix just bloody rocked it. To top off the night Angela saw a drug deal on street as we were waiting for a bus!

Last Friday we went to Wimbledon dogs for Matty's 35th birthday. Happy birthday Matt! And apologies to dad for waking you up super early Saturday morning to get your advice for race seven. I was drawn to #3 Barney's Giggle, but then saw #1 - Graham's Gooch. So I called dad, was given a quick lesson in reading the form guide (never go for the dog that has consistantly run 2nd as they don't want to win, instead go for the dog that has had a 1st recently). While everyone else went for Barney's Giggle I backed Graham's Gooch, who romped it in and won me a nice little purse! I bet on seven races, won three, lost four, and managed to come out £1 up overall. After the races Amber and Stuart and I went to the local pub - The Corner Pub - for a nightcap, while Charlotte and Jack retired for the evening, and the mo's went to a mo club in Clapham. Well, didn't they miss out! At the Corner Pub there was a 50th birthday party complete with a table of nasty cold party food (garlic chicken balls, mini sausages, stale chips) and karaoke. We enjoyed the atmosphere and cheap drinks before making our way to the station and catching the train home.

Saturday I was planning on going to Camden markets, but only made it as far as Clapham Junction with Angela. This was okay though, as we found the most delicious markets and enjoyed some cheese and ham and potato tapas goodness.

Saturday night was Hallowe'en, and Amber and I were excited about the opportunity to dress up like idiots. Amber was a nun and I was death by mirrorball, with (British teen favourite) dark eye makeup, bits of mirrorball scattered across my face, and a bleeding wound on my forehead. After X Factor we made our way to a party being held by my old manager at The Government Agency, Keef. There were costumes and spider webs and Bundy Rum and monkeys and carved pumpkins and Monster Munch chips, and it was honestly one of the best house parties we'd ever been to.

And this week is another big one, with Model Mondays last night, movies tomorrow night, Bonfire night (my third favourite night of the year!) on Thursday, and then packing Friday night because this weekend I am going to Belfast with Amber, Matt, and Mark!

I think I need a nap...

Everything you needed to know about Oktoberfest and more

I am going to hand over to Sparky, our guest blogger for this week, as he recounts our adventures in Munich...

Grab a cup of tea, coffee, beer, wine and some snacks because this one is going to be a long one.

I should introduce the travellers at this point. There was me, Matt, Ang and then Scottish Stu (I went to his parents for Easter this year), Amanda/Mandy (she has featured in a few travels including Sweden and Croatia) and Angela who was Amanda's friend who has recently arrived in London. These two were also the two who weren't beer drinkers and heading to the world's biggest beer festival! Oh and of course Sven my trusty shark. We had a slightly confusing time getting our tickets as you had to do it at the checkin machines, thankfully a guy who worked for Lufthansa did it for us. We had a quick snack before the flight and then got on our plane. Now it's not often I fly with full service airlines, you know the ones that actually give you food and drinks for free. I was sure we would get some sort of decent meal for our 2 hour flight to Germany. Unfortunately all we got was a seeded bun with very yellow cheese, one lettuce leaf and a whole lot of butter. Not much chop if you ask me. I really wanted to have a beer but it was about 6:30am so thought it was too early. Some other guy on the flight didn't think so though, no it wasn't Matt.

We arrived in rainy Munich, had a very confusing time getting our tickets (I subsequently realised I have pretty much lost all the German I learnt at University). Finally worked out how to get our tickets and set off to our self contained apartments. We got off at Ostbahnhof got into a cab and then headed to our flat in Bogenhausen (funny name hey). We met the owners of the flat who were called Roberto and Saviola, they shook everyones hands and I can safetly say both of them (especially Saviola) had very burly handshakes. We unpacked, settled in and got a rundown on the public transport from Roberto. We walked to the metro (aka Munich U-bahn) and caught our train to the city. We got off at the Odeanplatz stop - which was at the top of the main street. We walked down the main drag and headed towards the main square called Marienplatz. It was here we decided to pull up for some food and Matt and Ang decided to have their first stiens. After lunch and listening to some dodgy band playing in the square we walked through the local food market which had freaking awesome food. You could buy a bag of crackling to snack on! Unfortunately we never made it back there :( We then had to wander around the city in an attempt to find an internet cafe to print off tickets we needed for the tour we were doing the next day and a currency exchange. Afterwards we all went back to the flat for an early night in preparation for our trip to the castle. For dinner Stu managed to find some pizza place that delivered. Well done considering none of us could speak German very well.

The next day we got up early and headed in the main train station to go on our cultural day trip to Neuschwanstein Castle. We met our tour guide Roland who was an English fella and amused us all day with his story telling antics. Basically he would raise his voice, add lots of different inflections and lean forward while holding his hands behind his back getting very excited during the story. We all meanwhile stood around bored and thinking he was a bit queer. Anyway the trip out there was quite interesting in that we were all told to get on a train and simply find a seat and then in a couple of stops we would need to change trains to get to the castle. The first train was great in that we managed to find a six seater booth where we all sat and chatted until we got to the station change. The next train wasn't so nice and we all manged to cram onto it and had little naps before we arrived. On the way there the weather fined up and we got our first glimpse of the castle which I can safetly say shits all over the castle i have seen so far. Before we started the trip we had time for a quick feed of sausage, a drink and then we started the trek.

We walked past the first castle which was built by King Ludwig's father - Hohenschwangau Castle. It's quite nice as well and looks over a massive lake which looked so nice we all wanted to go swimming and surprisingly it was warm too. After a look around we started the walk up to the castle. Matt, Ang, Stu and I walked up there while the girls took the bus. The walk up was a pretty hard slog but well worth it to see the forest all around the castle. Halfway up there is a bridge that goes across the gorge and you get a fantatic view of the castle. You can see it in the Neuschwanstein Castle link above. After this we had another easy climb to get to the castle. We got a tour through the castle which was simly amazing.

The story behind it is the King Ludwig was a little kooky and basically loved Richard Wagner who was a song/opera composer. If you want to find out more you can check it out here. He comissioned the castle and most of the rooms are designed to reflect different operas Wagner wrote. Ludwig never married and it is thought he was gay. Our guide told us he used to play hide and seek with his staff and also have huge parties where everyone would get drunk and then get naked. Sounds like a great time to me :) After the trip through the castle, which was massive, we got to walk back down to the village through the gorge. We arrived back at the village, had enough time for another sausage and then got onto the bus to take us to the train station to get back to Munich. Our tour guide managed to get into a fight with some other Australian tour guide who turned out to be such a complete bogan that I ended up telling the people around us he should just punch her in the head to shut her up. They all agreed which was good :)

Our trip back was a complete mission in that we had to catch three trains to get there which included a 30 minute break at one station. It was during this break we manged to get some petzels and beers to continue our journey. Our tour guide told us of a great place to go and have dinner and drinks at in Munich when we got back and we somehow managed to remember his directions and how to get there. We caught a tram a couple of stops down from the main train station and got off at what looked like a very dodgy part of town. There was pub that looked like a complete dive and a sex store on the street. We spied a bigger looking pub with people standing outside and thought we would try it out. We wandered in and found it was absolutely huge and the correct pub!! It was a massive beer hall full to the brim with people eating, drinking and yelling PROST! Which is German for Cheers. We went to the bar and all ordered some drinks and even saw the guys tap a keg. The beer is in a huge barrel and two guys lifted it up onto the bench where one guy then got a tap (yes a tap) and hammered it into the barrel. They pour the beer into the steins using what looks like a normal hose tap. Very weird. We then found a table upstairs to have a meal at and were pleasantly surprised at how cheap it all was. Everyone pretty much ordered massive meat based dishes with very little vegetables. Ok it had sauerkraut and potato dumplings but really this wasn't that healthy. I order the pork knuckle which I can safely say was freaking delicious. When the bill arrived we were all pleasantly surprised as it was only $70 Euro which is amazing considering there were 6 of us and we all had drinks and a meal. In London this would have easliy topped £180. We all headed home in cabs after dinner as we knew the real shenanigans were going to start the next day!!

Next day we were up and out of the flats heading to the Oktoberfest site, which is at Theresienwiese which is right near the city centre. Now I have dubbed Oktoberfest Disneyland for Drunks!! There is a whole array of food, showrides, carny games and general drunken antics. On our arrival we were amazed at the amount of people who got dressed up in the traditional clothes of Lederhosen. It's been decided we are all going to get the traditional dress next year. So first thing we did when we arrived was obviously get some pork hotdogs and schnitzel. Then we attacked the rides, there were so many rollercoasters and carny rides that we were all very excited! We continued to walk around the site and marvel at the size of the tents. These tents are the size of airplane hangers and can hold between 10,000 - 17,000 people. We wanted a quick rest so we found one of the outdoor tents and had a sit down and a drink. I had a coke which I'm still quite shocked about!

I had organised for us to be in a tent at the festival however we had to go to a pub to collect the tickets so at around 3pm we all headed off to the Lowenbrau pub to get the tickets. Thankfully it was only two stops away on the U-bahn. We found the pub and when we arrived were greeted with what I can only describe as a simply breathtaking sight. Yes there was a whole cow on a rotisserie in a window at the entrance to the pub. We all stood there drooling and marvelling at this glorious sight and then entered the pub to collect the tickets. Now this is where I found out that what I thought was a booking for a tent was actually a booking for a table in the beer hall at this particular pub. Now to be fair on their website they did say that the tickets were for their tent and they even called the beer hall their tent. When I said I thought I was buying tickets to the tent at the site they simply looked at me and said this is our tent. I went downstairs to tell the crew the bad news but we all decided to make the most of it and have a good time. And have a good time we certainly bloody did!! First off we were there at 4pm and weren't allowed into the beer hall until 6:30pm so we thought we'd have a cheeky drink. We found a table outside and waited for service. In Munich it is all table service, you don't go to the bar at all. Unfortunately our table seemd to be located in the Bermuda triangle as the hostesses would look at us and then look away....after a while we went to the bar to get drinks and were told to get it at the table. After some jumbled German and pointing they finally gave us our drinks. We had some beer/wine discussed the rotating cow, beer, how much beer we thought we would consume and of course our favourite topic - toilet humour. Stu and Angela didn't find this funny but Ang, Matt, Amanda and I were having a great time.

Now the time had arrived for use to venture into the beer hall. Upon entry we were greated with another beautiful sight. Tables upon tables across the floor, oompah band setup and our gracious waiter Max. A true Bavarian who I think thought we were all very polite and nice people, if only he knew how the night would end up... So we estimated the whole beer hall would have held close to 10,000 people which was unfathomable! But we decided to get down to business and order our beers. Even Mandy and Angela had some beers, ok Amanda had a half beer and half lemonade but she did really well. During our first beer Angela was smashing us and drinking like a true beer connissuer. Ang was very encouraging of our poor little Amanda, who wasn't really enjoying her shandy, she was giving her constant praise including - well done, you're doing so well. All very amusing. After another stein we decided to get some food into us and asked Max to bring us 4 of his finest dishes. These were pork knuckle, oxen (from the cow out the front), roast and another one that I can't remember. I'd had a few by this stage. So all of us eating was like being at one of those medievel banquets. Forks, knives and food flying everywhere. Must had been funny to watch. After dinner we all consumed more beer and the girls moved onto wine. Angela decided it would be fun for us all to have shots so we ordered a round of Jagermeister and Amanda got some sort of god awful Schnapps.

The band had started at this point and people were starting to get up on the seats and sing and dance. Of course I needed absolutetly no encouragement and got right on up there with them even singing along with them. Well I just kind of made German sounding noises to most of the songs as the lyrics were in German. Mind you they did sing quite a lot of English songs including a surpring amount of Oliva Newton John?? The main song they sang during the night was a drinking song sung everywhere during the Oktoberfest called Ein Prosit - check out this YouTube for the song they sing (towards the end). So as you can imagine I was getting right into this. I swear they sang it every bloody 15-30 minutes and as soon as I heard it I was up singing. They also loved playing and singing the song - Is this the way to Amarillo - It is sung by a German band as well and they all go off when it is played. This became another one of our theme songs for the trip with us all breaking into song whenever someone would hum it or sing it.

Now I should also point out that during the night I was telling everyone everytime they cheersed we could smash the steins as hard as we wanted because they don't break. We (well mainly me) were all getting rowdy and smashing steins with beer jumping out of them about 20cm into the air. I think you all see where this is heading. As I was cheering some random guy who was standing on the chairs with us and I promptly smashed both our steins. I of course blamed it on him and made him buy me a new beer, cheeky aren't I. The rest of the night got suitably rowdy with us all singing, Angela getting random men to our table and them all fighting for her attention, Ang talking to the locals telling them she was a tradie and showing off her tattoos. Stu even managed to pull some random Aussie guy! Amanda managed to get talking to a guy from Denmark who looked exactly like Charlie Sheen, so much so that guys were coming up to him and telling him how much they like his movies.

Angela and Amanda decided they wanted to go home around this point so Stu, Matt, Ang and I decided to head up the front to dance, sing and drink more beer. We were standing on the chairs, yellling and singing along to ACDC and any other song they played. Matt has video recorded some of it and you can check them out on his YouTube site (they might not be up there yet but he is putting them up there). They are quite amusing and show you exactly how we were all behaving. During out chair dancing I was getting a little wobbly and manged to do an totally awesome backwards fall with a half twist and landed on my back. I promptly jumped up and expected some sort of applause from Matt, Ang and Stu but none of them actually saw me fall and I was very upset. I also fairly hurt my finger and swore it was broken, of course it wasn't but I had a gullet full of beer. During this time there was also a guy who was being particularly annoying to everyone around (no it wasn't me) and he was annoying the girls and dancing on the table, which you are not allowed to do. I thought I'd get rid of him and show him a lesson so when he got up on the table I lifted the end up a little to scare him, not knowing my exterme power I lifted the table a little too high and tipped him off of it. He jumped up and wasn't very happy and for some reason singled out little Stu as the culpret and promptly fly kicked him in the chest (nothing too bad though). Matt, Ang and I jumped in to tell him to settle down but luckily Stu went over to the burly bouncers and got him kicked out. It probably should have been me who should've been kicked out. Can you believe I'm 30 :)

The night came to an end but we (namely me) decided we should keep on going and got into a cab and told him to take us where the party was. We walked in and out of some clubs but most were either closing or were pretty dodgy (it was 2am at this point) so we went home via McDonalds. I wandered in and ordered us 10 cheeseburgers which we all munched on when we got home. Stu and Matt went to bed and Ang and I went down the back of the block of flats and had a massive chat until the early hours of the monring.

The next day as you can imagine we were all feeling a little shady but still on such a massive hight of having a fantastic night. Matt, Ang and I worked our we had probably consumed around 8-9 steins during the course of the day. That's 8-9 litres each so we were pretty proud. We got dressed and headed back into the festival for more bratwurst, schnitzel and to check out the site again. We had a wander round and went to the outdoor tent we went to on the first day for a sit down and a quiet beer. These were very quiet beers as we were all very hungover. We didn't stick around at the festival for long as we were all feeling very tired so we walked through the city in an attempt to find some sort of store that was open. Who'd have thought that in Munich all the stores were closed on a Sunday?? We found a snack place open at the main train station, got some food and a few cheeky beers (including one that was a litre can of beer) and then headed home for a quiet night of tele and napping. Thankfully Germany had many television stations in English, not like bloody France or Spain!

The Monday of the festival saw us heading back to the site for more drunken antics. We arrived at the site and, yes you guessed it, had some bratwurst and schnitzel. Angela had decided she didn't want to just drink the trip away (unlike the rest of us) so she went to a museum. Stu also had to go and visit a family friend so Amanda, Matt, Ang and I would went on our merry way to attack more rides. We went on the ferris wheel, the crazy mouse (which is nothing like the one at Brighton, it's much better) and then onto this huge roller coaster. It didn't have any loops but was really high with lots of bends. There was Amanda and I in the front and Ang and Matt behind us. Amanda is one of those girls who squeals the whole entire time so I knew I was in for an earsplitting ride. When we got to the top there is a massive drop and Amanda decided on the way down that she would put her hands up in the air and scream only to reaslise that coming up was a low pole that she almost hit. She was a little scared after that and kept her hands inside the ride at all times. When it finished she complained there were no signs telling her not to do it and how she was really scared she could have lost her arm. I then pointed to the sign above our heads as we got into the ride telling us this exact thing :) We went for a bit more of a walk around and ate these delicious chocolate covered fruit. I should point out this was the only fruit we consumed the entire time.

After this we decided 2pm was beer o'clock time and headed to the biggest tent in the site the Hofbrau Festzelt. What welcomed us was again a glorious, glorious sight. Tables of beer drinking folk all dressed up and singing and I swear most looked like they were absolutely hammered. We found a table and got round to the hard job of beer drinking. The table we managed to find was unfortunately next to all the old men and women in wheelchairs, yes we were in the retirement village section. But we had beer and a great waitress so we were happy. It was at this moment we found out that the waitresses in the big tents don't actually get paid and only get paid in tips. This is because of insurance and the cost of employing them. They must make a great packet of money though from all the drunks. For the record I only tipped her $4 Euro for our four beers which I think is generous. So during our beer we watched the antics and listened to everyone sing Ein Prosit over and over again. In the middle of tent there was this giant figurine holding a harp and everyone around it kept throwing their underwear/bras or wet napkins up in it. Apparently this is tradition. Can you see where this is going....no none of us did it but I think you know that I wanted to. Oh well next year. So after we finished our beer we had to leave as the table was booked for another party so we decided to go and check out some of the other tents.

We headed on up to the Hippodrome which was one of the smaller tents and had an outdoor section so we pulled up at a table and settled in for the count. Here Amanda was able to order little baby steins of wine so she was very happy. We had stein after stein, one of Stu's friends turned up, then both Stu and Angela came back and the party started. Ang told us of this story about her sister naming her pecs. One is called Des and the other Troy and together they Destroy. We all thought this was hilarious so Ang and I got our pecs out and drew the names on them and got them out at every opportunity. Anglea's were much more impressive than mine. We made friends with the people around us including a bunch of rowdy Americans and a few Swiss guys. Amanda and I did a little dance for everyone and even got applause. Ang and I ordered some more sausage and when it arrived hooked in. Our waiter came over and was quiet concerned when he saw us eating the skin, turned out we should have peeled it off and then eaten it. Oh well, it tasted quite nice.

The rest of the night was randoms conversations, Ang and Matt arm wrestling, for the record they tied. Amanda challenging the Americans to arm wrestles but telling them they had to let her win and then cheering wildly when she did win. Matt cheering Stu and smashing a stein into his tooth, chipping one of his front teeth. Poor Stu wasn't used to hanging out with rough Aussies. Ang's Swiss friend introduced us all to snuss which is tobacco you snort, we all had some and realised it is foul! I snorted it and then sneezed for about 10 minutes attemtping to get it out of my nose. Not fun!

The tent closed and we all decided to head into town for more drinks. We found some bar where Matt stood round talking to about 4 burly Bavarian blokes, Ang was yabbering away with the Swiss friend and Mandy and I entertained the crowded, dancing on tables and singing with the locals. We decided to head off to another bar for some reason but it was closed, Ang lost her wallet on the way so there was a mild panic about that. We ended up getting a cab and going home.

The next day we all woke to trecherous hangovers and packed up our rooms to get out by 10am and head out to the airport. After a very rough ride out to the airport we managed to checkin, find food and board the smallest plane in the entire world! Ok not that small but it had it's own stairs and there were only 3 seats on one side and 2 on the other. Amanda and I were a little nervous about the plane's weight and if it was evenly distributed....We got cheap flights to and from Munich but the reason this was cheap is because we went home via Zurich. Yes we got to spend 30 minutes in Switzerland where all we managed to do was inhale some Burger King then check on to our next plane and eventually arrive home in London at around 4:30pm. We landed at the London City airport and we had to catch the DLR back to our flat. We had a quick Thai dinner, watched bad tele and had a very early night.

Well I think that is it. I'm stuffed after writing this. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed doing it. I'm definitly back there next year!!!!!!


"Is this the way to Amarillo, every night I've been hugging my pillow, dreaming dreams of Amarilloand sweet Marie who waits for me"
Amarillo, Tony Christie

Croatia holler!

I have been putting off writing a blog entry about my Croatia holiday for two reasons. Firstly, so much happened that the thought of having to type it all up was daunting. Secondly, I have post Croatia depression. Honestly, it was one of the best holidays I have ever had.

Before I get started on my day-by-day account of what happened, I need to introduce the main characters.
· Moi, your favourite blogger
· Bec, holiday organiser el supremo
· Charlotte, “my French friend”, who added a bit of class to the whole show
· Mark, aka Sparky, partner of Matt and everyone’s partner in crime
· Matt, aka Matty, a source of entertainment (even when he wasn’t there)
· Stuart, aka Stu, Scottish friend of the boys and the gayest man in the village
· Alan, aka The Force (he had a range of shirts bearing the name of emergency services), Matt’s friend from Australia

And then there are the secondary characters
· Tucker’s Daughter, the Australian guy who was travelling by himself because his girlfriend broke up with him, he was everyone’s best mate and tried to be the hero in every situation. Yes, he was “that” guy on the group trip.
· Peachy, who apparently looked like Hugh Grant, though we only ever paid attention to his pert bum
· Matchy Matchy, who wore the same little board shorts as Peachy
· Five Pounder, a kid that Sparky saw at the airport and bet me £5 was going to be on our boat (Sparky, I still owe you)
· Blink 182, an emo looking guy with a lip ring who was strangely good looking
· Josh and his girlfriend Savannah, our favourite people on the boat
· Zof, our faithful bartender on board and Matty’s best friend and Charlotte’s suitor by the end of the trip
· Merv, an American guy on the other boat that had chops like Merv Hughes
· Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, wog twins on one of the other boats that had the ugliest ponytails you have ever seen
· Emanuel, our boat, and Penelope and Labrador, the party boats – our flotilla, our Groove Armada if you like. We travelled together and moored together. The tour rep told us that in August there are 25 boats in the group (thank god we went in May).

Saturday
With less than an hour sleep under our belts (and some of us with several beers under our belts), we all bundled in to a taxi at 3am to Gatwick airport, and began the Girls and Gays cruise! Most of us slept on the plane, while others took photos of us, but we all pepped up once we landed in Split. After withdrawing some Croatian kunas (henceforth known as hakuna matatas) we hopped on the bus and headed down to the harbour to meet up with our boat, the Emanuel. On the bus trip I was talking to Sparky, and responded to something he said with an attitude-filled “Holler!” in the style of Missy Elliot. This became the catch phrase for the week. We killed a couple of hours walking along the waterfront and purchasing cheesy cowboy hats, before we boarded and enjoyed a mushroom surprise lunch en route to Hvar. Just a side note, when ever I refer to “we” or “the gang” or “hos and mos”, I mean the main cast of seven. So, we conducted our own walking tour around Hvar, traipsing up and down the back streets and taking lots of silly photos. Dinner was a quiet affair on the waterfront as we were all a bit tired, and we enjoyed our first pizza of the trip. Being so close to Italy, there are a lot of Italian restaurants in Croatia. We had an early night while the rest of the boat went out drinking and bonding until the early hours of the morning.

Sunday
The boat set off early and was all a-gossip at breakfast. Five Pounder had been jumping between boats the previous evening when he landed awkwardly and hurt his ankles. He spent the following two days in his cabin before visiting a doctor in Dubrovnik and finding out that he had fractured one ankle and shattered the other. With no travel insurance, he flew home for surgery. Anyway, mid morning the boat pulled into a calm bay and we all had a swim off the side of the boat. The water was cold, amazingly clear, and fabulously refreshing. After lunch of a strange dry mince and pasta sheets only lasagne, we arrived in Trstenik and had another swim. Sparky and I swam to shore with the aid of some cheap inflatables that we bought in Hvar, and Matty and Stu decided to swim double the distance to some (rather small) sea caves with the aid of an inflatable boxing kangaroo, whilst wearing a Bushtucker Man akubra hat. Needless to say, they got in to trouble. Matty popped the roo on the swim back, so Stu had to swim back to the boat and fetch a kid’s boogie board to rescue him. Afterwards Matt claimed that he had probably lost 2kgs during the adventure, though we pointed out that it was more than likely because he had stopped drinking beers for an hour and his beer gut had subsided. Trstenik was the smallest port we visited, with one restaurant and a shop that closed about 10 minutes after we docked, so dinner was a BBQ on the boat that night and we all retired fairly early.

Monday
By Monday we had started to settle in to a routine: get up, have cheese and salami on bread for breakfast, slather on the sunscreen, lounge on the top deck for an hour or so, head downstairs for some shade action, slather on the sunscreen, have a swim, have lunch, have a shower, slather on the sunscreen, arrive in port and sightsee. Dubrovnik was a wonderful little city. The old town is surrounded by walls, which Sparky and Bec and I walked around until we found Café Buza which sits on the cliff face and looks out to the Adriatic Sea. We met up with the rest of the gang and spent the afternoon cooling down in the shade, drinking, enjoying fabulously appropriate music (retro), watching cliff divers, and reminding each other of how awesome it was to be us at that point in time. After a shower and freshen up on the boat, we had dinner at some back alley restaurant that Matty got us dragged in to, followed by a couple of quiet drinks in an Irish pub (as is tradition when travelling with Sparky and Bec). Well, it was quiet until the rest of the freakin boat turned up and they were all crazy drunk. We stayed for a while and then headed back to the boat for a nightcap, but unfortunately Zof had clocked off. The rest of the boat partied like animals and made an absolute racket when they got back to the boat around 2:30am. The air-conditioning wasn’t working so we had our windows open, which gave me a front row to their antics. I finally managed to drift off to sleep when I was awoken by a screaching girl. Some of the boat had been drinking at the bar where Brit Lapthorn was last seen (first mistake) when they had an altercation with some locals, a glass was thrown, they tried to confront them (second mistake) and the locals pulled knives. The Aussies got in to a cab but the locals followed them, and then kept driving by the boat antagonising them. A couple of the boys decided to get off the boat and go talk to them (third mistake) so their girlfriends turned into banshees (fourth mistake), screaming for them to come back onboard (“I’ve put you in danger too many times Craig!”) and generally stirring everyone up. Fortunately the tour rep came out, told everyone to shut up and go to bed and lock their cabins, and the drama ended. Many stories were told about this over the following days, but I have no doubt that the drama was brought about because of the idiots from our boat.

Tuesday
Not surprisingly, breakfast on Tuesday morning was a quiet affair. But oh how I was falling in love with cheese and salami! We followed our standard morning routine before we pulled in to Mljet (pronounced Mlee-yet), and hired us some scooters. We lied to the man and told him that we had all ridden a scooter, before precariously pulling out on to the street and trying not to run into each other. Our first stop was the National Park, where the group had a swim in a huge salt water lake while Bec and I sat in the shade and took photos and shouted at them to perform poses. We spent the rest of the afternoon riding around the island, through little water side villages, past crumbling buildings, and up and down the mountains. It was fantastic! We picked up some drinks on the way back, had a few drinks and a swim near the boat, and watched the sun set. Then we went to one of the three restaurants and had a great dinner, where Matty entertained us with lots of PFSs (Price Family Stories). Mljet was probably the highlight of the trip; it was just an absolutely wonderful day.

Wednesday
We all woke up excited on Wednesday, because Bec had finished her course of antibiotics and could finally get her drink on! Korcula was the birthplace of Marco Polo, a fact that is commemorated by a museum that was closed and a styrofoam statue by the bay. Interestingly, the town is shaped like a fish, with the straight streets to the bay to channel the cool sea breezes, curved streets to the mountain to avoid the cold winds, and a wide straight street down the middle so that the people could run down to the bay and defend their city. The girls did some jewellery shopping (filigree, coral, and turquoise are the local trinkets) while the gays tagged along and ate ice-creams. We had a swim on the beach, which was surprisingly free of sea urchins (the spiny buggers were everywhere) but unfortunately there were still sea slugs, which Matty picked up and tried to squirt on us. Matt was hilarious, he brought along a pair of goggles and would spend twice as much time in the water as the rest of us, because he would hunt for treasure on the sea bed. All he came up with was some crappy plastic toys and a funny shaped rock, but he was pretty happy. After our swim we showered and dolled ourselves up, and celebrated Bec’s first beer on the top deck of the boat as the sun went down. Then we found ourselves a great table at a waterfront restaurant with a guy playing the guitar and had a really nice candlelit dinner. And got drunk. From there we went to a bar at the top of one of the turrets, where you had to climb a steep ladder to get up, and your cocktails were brought up in a bucket. We socialised with some of the people from the boat, and then split up as they went to Des Locos bar to make the most of happy hour and we went to Gaudi bar to make the most of being able to drink outdoors without wearing a jacket and scarf. Things got a little drunk and silly, and we had a great time, finally retiring to bed around 5am. We thought it was strange that no one from Des Locos had come to Gaudi, considering it stayed open a lot later, until we found out that people from the boat had gotten in to a massive bar brawl with some locals. Apparently chairs were being swung about, guys were doing fly kicks, and the Aussies were outnumbered. Matchy Matchy sustained a concussion and a fractured wrist and spent the rest of the holiday moping.

Thursday
Makarska was really nice, but my ability to appreciate it was limited by my screaming hangover. The mountains behind the waterfront village looked fake, and Bec claimed that they were actually made of styrofoam like the Marco Polo statue. The tour rep told us that she had been up there a couple of weeks ago and there was still snow at the top. Crazy when you consider that we were enjoying 25 degree sunshine in the port. We slept through breakfast and only woke up once we had gotten into port. Our ragamuffin group managed to get dressed and walk to the beach, where the cold Adriatic Sea revived us. Honestly, there is nothing better for a hangover than a fresh swim. We had an uninspiring lunch on the boat, before some of us went back for a second swim and some of us napped the afternoon away. I of course did the latter. We had dinner at another waterfront restaurant, as we just could not get enough of the gloriously warm weather and being able to be outdoors wearing just a t-shirt. The restful day was capped off with a couple of vodka cranberries on the back deck of the boat.

Friday
We made it down for breakfast on Friday (I wasn’t missing out on salami and cheese again), before the boat pulled in to a small port so we could have a swim at Copacabana beach. I have to say, the beach really ruined the song for me. The shore was dirty and sandy, unlike the pebbly beaches we were used to. And the water was waist-deep for 100 metres offshore, and full of sea reeds and little crabs that nibbled on your ankle. On the upside, Friday was activity day! Some people stayed on the boat, while others did a day trip to Bosnia, while the rest of us went on the river rafting trip in Cetina. After rafting in Tully and New Zealand, this was pretty tame, but still really fun. Not to mention that our skipper was hot! We arrived in Split late afternoon, back where we had started from, and already feeling a little sad at the thought of our holiday being over. We wandered the back streets and found a really nice restaurant for our last meal, where we had another hit of pag, a local cheese sort of like parmesan. The night was topped off with some drinks overlooking the bay, and then maybe another couple back on the boat.

Saturday
The last day of the trip wasn’t the best. We knew the holiday was over, and we had 12 hours to kill in between getting kicked off the boat at 9am and our flight leaving at 9pm. We stored our luggage and then set off on a hike to the swimming beach, during which Bec and I did a lot of heat-induced sighing. Then we set up camp in the shade in the park and had a little rest, while Matt and Alan decided to go on a hike around the foreshore. They walked for 35 minutes before finding a beach front bar, where they gave up on the hike and started drinking, while Sparky, Bec, Charlotte and I had a civilised and sober lunch back at the harbour. We spent the rest of the afternoon doing some souvenir shopping, eating gelato, and drinking in a little bar. With the sun still in the sky but the heat of the day passed (a glorious time of day), we gathered ourselves up and headed to the airport in a collectively sombre and reluctant mood.

I had the best tan, I mean time, in Croatia. It was a wonderful wonderful holiday, and given the opportunity, I would go back in a Split second (ha ha ha, get it, Split!).


"We're going where the sun shines brightly, we're going where the sea is blue, we've seen it in the movies, now let's see if it's true"
Summer Holiday, Cliff Richard

Approved!

Well dad, if you don't read my blog then you don't have the right to advise me on significant expenditures.

I GOT MY LAPTOP!

I am writing this post on my gorgeous new Acer Aspire 15.4" screen laptop. *big smiles*

Thanks to the nerdy assistance of Matty, I have a dual core processor, lots of memory, three USB ports and lots of other stuff that I have no idea about. Though I did manage to install the anti virus software by myself.

Give me a couple of weeks and I will be writing my own programs, fixing people's hard drives, and hosting my own LAN gaming parties.

(Nathan, I hope you picked up on the reference to Moleface Jennifer Hawkins in the title of this entry)

Oh we do like to be beside the seaside

Last Sunday Laura, Mark (aka Spark), Matt and I grabbed our bikinis and went to Brighton for the day. As it turned out, we didn’t need our swimmers after all. Brighton put on a typically British day for us, with grey skies and intermittent showers. Perfect!

We arose at an ungodly hour for a Sunday morning, packed our sandwiches and scarves, and caught the 8:30am train to the beach. The train was fairly empty but we managed to pick a seat near the grossest passenger who kept coughing up his left lung. The first time he did it we all looked at each other with surprise, the second time we looked at each other with disgust, the third time we all grabbed our bags and ran to the next carriage without saying a word to each other.

The first port of call in the little seaside town was a café so we could all get a hit of caffeine. After that we trundled down to the pebbled beach for the obligatory dipping of our toes (in this case finger tips), skimming of rocks, and photo opportunities. Then we hit the shops to buy Sparky a coat, as the flimsy little jacket he had been getting around in for the past few months was not going to cut it against the ocean breezes.

A trip to Brighton would not be complete without a visit to the pier and it’s rides and amusement arcades. We went on a tame looking little rollercoaster called the Crazy Mouse, which was actually rather terrifying given its rattling rails and lifting carriages. I screamed the entire way, it was awesome!

Another compulsory tourist activity is chips’n’vinegar by the seaside, which of course we had to partake in. With bellies full of warm carbohydrates we hit the Crazy Golf course (are you sensing a theme here? Crazy!). Being a semi-frequent visitor of the Victoria Park mini golf, I have to say that Crazy Golf left a lot to be desired. The green was concrete rather than grass, and clearly built in a time before spirit levels. I managed to putt the ball about two feet away from the hole, but the uneven green and the wind ended up blowing it in for a hole in one!

By this stage we had pretty much exhausted all of the possibilities Brighton presented to us on a dreary day, so hosted our own pub crawl on the way back up the hill to the train station, stopping in at the Varsity Bar, the Fishbowl, and Quadrant. Though to be honest the only reason we stopped at Quadrant was because Sparky and I have bladders the size of thimbles and needed to use the bathroom.

We collapsed into our seats on the train with rosy cheeks after being windblown all day. I fell asleep about 10 minutes into the return trip, only to be woken up as the muscles in my neck relaxed in my slumber and I smacked my head on the window. Ouch.

All in all, a lovely day!

A promise is a promise

Okay, so I said that I would try and do some more exciting things in an attempt to stop blogging about tubes and trivia. Well, I’ve come through with the goods. A little recap of the last week and a bit…

Friday
After a long week at work there is nothing better than a couple of drinks. And when drinking with work colleagues there is nothing better than knowing your limit and going home before you get stupid. And when going home there is nothing better than stopping in at the Atlas to have a nightcap with your roommates. Just don’t try and steal the glasses, okay? The night ended with Amber, Matt, Spark and I having Wii dance-off in the loungeroom. I’m pretty sure I didn’t win.

Saturday
As a rule of thumb, Saturday’s are for sleeping in, cleaning, washing, and shopping, and this Saturday was no exception. I also got my fringe trimmed - anyone who knows me understands what a process this is. Saturday night Amber, Matt, Spark and I got all dolled up and went to the Sugar Hut for a couple of drinks. The boys kept to those plans, but Amber and I stayed out to the early hours of the morning dancing (moi) and fighting off Irish men (Amber).

Sunday
I was surprised that we managed to get out of the house at all on Sunday. However, Amber and I made our way down to the Spanish restaurant for some late afternoon sangria. The sangria agreed with Amber, not so much with me. The rest of my afternoon was spent napping on the couch, while Amber and the boys returned to the Sugar Hut. I admire their commitment.

Monday
A nothing day, not worthy of more than this sentence.

Tuesday
Another sad loss for the Facthunt team. I’m not quite sure where we are going wrong, though dad is convinced Amber must be having a flat couple of weeks as he thinks she is the only one that answers any questions.

Wednesday
On Wednesday night I went out for some drinks with a boy. We did a pub crawl of Camden Town , Shoreditch, and Nottinghill, via Liverpool Street to check out these cool lights.

Thursday
A truly horrid day. Work was crap, I was crap, Thursday was crap. The only highlight was Katie Price and Peter Andre’s reality television show on Sky. They are my friends on Facebook, did you know that?

Friday
Remember the time that we went to the Bon Jovi concert?! Amby scored some free tickets from a girl at her work, so we organised a girls night out with Charlotte and Mel. I had the gurgly wurglies, but pushed on for the sake of this blog. We got a little lost on our way to Twickenham, so missed the first two-thirds of the gig. Amber kept reminding us – it’s the journey, not the destination! Mel and I stayed on to hear ‘Bad Medicine’, ‘Have a Nice Day’, and ‘Keep the Faith’ before we hightailed it out of there in an attempt to miss the crowds. A great night was capped off with the purchase of a cowboy hat, and the Best. Kebab. Ever. on the way home. Amber and Charlotte’s trip home was a lot more eventful, with missed trains, numerous night buses, near stabbings, and another visit to the Sugar Hut.

Saturday
We had a quiet morning at home before heading out for drinks at Embankment with the boys, and Dom and Jodie. Everyone was on the Queen Mary, a rickety old boat moored on the Thames that has been converted into a bar/restaurant. The sun was warm and the Magners were cool, though the rocking boat gave me a nasty case of vertigo. We were lucky enough to be surrounded by not only a hen’s party, but by a stag do. The groom-to-be cut a dashing figure in denim jeans with a Borat mankini underneath. Some of the guys that we were with were mocking his hairy chest, so Amber felt the need to stick up for this macho specimen. Then Dom’s boyfriend, Amit, layed an offer on the table that couldn’t be refused – if the groom took off the jeans then Amber would lick his chest. Amber, a woman of her word, carried through on the offer – absolutely hilarious! I’ve never been more proud of her. There was a little bit of mischief on the way home, as we were the only one’s on the train carriage, but I don’t think we need to go into detail as my nephews are reading this. The obligatory hamburger on the way home, before we all retired to bed at a rather respectable hour.

Sunday
I woke up early on Sunday morning to phone the fams in Townsville. Oh, and Jackie, I’m still waiting for those photos! Amber and I decided to venture out of South West London, so headed North East to Brick Lane . We had an awesome curry taster plate at The Spice Brick Lane, contender for Best. Curry. Ever! Fuelled up, we hit the Spitalfields indoor markets and had an hour of power shopping. So many bargains, so little time. I bought a scarf, some earrings, a kimono skirt, a beaded bolero jacket, a star shirt, an animal print jumper, a top for Jaala, and the most hideous dress you could ever imagine. Phew! We were in the general vicinity of Shoreditch, so decided to drop by our favourite non-local pub, the Barley Mow, and visit the gang. After a couple of extremely well priced Magners Amber and I made our way back to West Brompton . And as a bit of a pat on the back for getting out and about on a Sunday, we decided to have a jug of sangria on the way home. Such a lovely way to end the weekend really!

Monday
And that brings us to today. A day when I normally make grandioso promises about joining the gym and eating better and going to bed earlier. HA HA HA HA HA!

Longest. Blog. Ever.

Snaps!

Snaps to Facthunt, for our SIXTH consecutive trivia win!

Snaps to Tesco Direct, for delivering my new mattress! Sayonara crappy old mattress with the springs that nearly dislocated my shoulder, oh, you shall not be missed.

Snaps to the Barley Mow, our new favourite (non local) pub! It was well worth the three-tube hour-long trip to Shoreditch just to enjoy the generous hospitality of Eddie, Laura and Greg. Magners for £2, unlimited credits on the jukebox, free run of the place after 11pm, hilarious foreign accents, and ridiculous card tricks – you know I’ll be going back.

Snaps to me for getting a new job! A 10-week contract with a great company and the title of ‘Marketing & Events Executive’. Best part is that I don’t have to do another Birmingham conference with my current job. I am fabulous in London, Birmingham not so much.

Snaps to Marks & Spencer! I will never tire of their chicken laksa noodle salad. I’ve had it at least a dozen times since I’ve been here, and it just keeps getting better. M&S, you don’t put a foot wrong.

Snaps to The People’s Post Office! You may make me wait half an hour in the queue, but it only cost me £6.45 to send a large package to Australia.

Snaps to Mark and Matt for giving us a Wii console! The dance mat is super fun, even if Amber is mega competitive and won’t tell me how to use the hand controls so she can be the best at ‘Rhythm is a Dancer’.

Sunny Sunday in South West Londy

So, it was my 25B (I refuse to say I’m 26) birthday on the weekend. We went out in Soho on Saturday night and had a bit of fun. There was French champagne, my faithful partner in crime, old school friends, new gay husbands, jugs of cosmopolitans, dancing with bathroom attendants, aviator sunglasses, stacks on, long stemmed roses, posed photos, Jazzify street performances, cold samosas, a sea captains hat, and a fry up when we got home. And that’s all I am going to say about that.

I'm not a huge fan of birthdays, but this one was pretty good despite being so far away from my family. I loved all of my cards and flowers and presents, thank you all so much!

As for what we did on my actual birthday, I'm going to let Amber tell that story. So how about a warm round of applause for our guest blogger, Amby!

London days begin early in May - sun rises at around 5 am and doesn't set until nearly 10 pm. An unseasonable week of fantastic weather sets the scene for last Sunday which was a long day full of observations of life in the capital Britain.

AM
After returning home rather late the previous evening (nudged Cinderella out of the way as I made my way through the door), Amanda, Matt, Mark and I ventured down to 'The Slug' to watch a much anticipated Brisbane Broncos vs. Manly Sea Eagles match. As we were all feeling the effects of the previous night (Mandy's 25Bth birthday) we kicked off the morning with some grease (big burger with lots of lard) and a pinch of the hair of the dog (in my case a pint of Magner's Irish cider). The weather was absolutely glorious (27 degrees and sunny), so not surprisingly, all of the pasty locals and their mangy dogs had also ventured out - the fact that there was a Chelsea vs. Bolton football (soccer) semi also added to the colourful delights that filled the streets of Fulham. As the Brisbane Broncos descended into a fiery ball of failure, the 'Slug' slowly filled itself with rowdy soccer yobs either dressed in non-flattering costumes, too tight jerseys or, worst of all, the teams' 'away' jersey (featuring bare chest, beer belly and hairy sponsorship). As the game wound down I had the good fortune to comment to a middle-aged Bobby about my preference for rugby league over the wussy round ball sport. He agreed and we launched into a great conversation about Wigan and the glory days of Ellery Hanley - he asked me if I was going to be back at the pub 'tonight' - he was concerned about my safety I think. So I assured him I would be staying out of the way of any riots, chanting or police violence - he looked disappointed.

EARLY PM
Mandy and I left the Slug (the crowd had become suffocating and Matt and Mark had already deserted us in favour of Sunday lounging at home). As we made our way down the street we were greeted by more and more 'away jerseys'. Disgusted by the lack of dignity of these football fans, Mandy reported her concerns to some young cops keeping an eye on proceedings. "Is that legal in this country?" Mandy asked pointing at a particularly large white specimen whose chafing could not only be seen but heard. One of the cops looked at his fellow countryman with a wry grin before replying "Yes ... but it shouldn't be!". The freak show didn't stop there. Between Farm Lane and Brompton Park Crescent is a small green space - good for exercising dogs or having a snooze or a read on nice days (it's just a shortcut to me). As we entered the green space a man (in a Chelsea jersey of course) walked past us with his young son and wife and other child trailing. As he passed he suddenly jerked his head to the side, placed one finger over his nostril and blew as hard as he could. Yes folks - he pulled out the bushman's hankie!!! On the ground. In front of his family. In front of us. My stomach lurched and I looked at his wife wondering how she ever mustered the courage to produce those two children with that man.

PM
Probably should have stayed in after the morning of atrocities but it's rare that the weather is that good so M&A&M&A headed out the park adjoining our estate. We spread out some sheets as a makeshift picnic blanket and celebrated Mandy's birthday with some Marks and Spencer salad, Mumm champagne and some games of Uno. Luckily I had finished eating when three fat and rather white flamed-haired teenage girls entered the arena accompanied by a skinny little turd of a boy kicking a soccer ball. Two of the 'rangas' were holding hands and I thought it lucky that biology will prevent them from producing a child with both of their genes. The foursome began to kick a soccer ball around the park (even though it was clearly signed that ball games are not allowed!) and every time one of the ten-tonne trio 'scored' she would put the shirt over her head and run about like seismic occurrence. Needless to say this was just gross and like a car crash we all just couldn't stop looking. Eventually the sideshow had to end and the feral foursome walked towards the exit of the park. Two rangas holding hands again, third ranga third wheeling but then things got just that bit worse. The turdy kid walks over the ranga lesbians and proceeds to put his hands down the back of one of their pants. I think this was in a wedgie attempt but instead he just pulled this unfortunate girl's shorts down far enough for most of the park's inhabitants to dry-retch.

LATER PM
Meanwhile, a 'gentleman' entered the park wearing jeans, a button up shirt and carrying his lunch and a newspaper. He sat down approx ten metres from our party and proceeded to eat his lunch. Lunch eaten - check. He then took his shirt off. Shirt off - check. He then proceeded to read his newspaper. Newspaper read - check. He then lay down for a nap. Nap - check. He then not very subtly took off his jeans to expose a pair of non-elasticised Primark jockey shorts and flashed all of equipment in our direction. Who does that????????????? Lucky for us Mandy took a photo.

Time to leave the park and indeed the day behind. After an obligatory evening of delivered oriental food and Sex and City, the sun set on the longest Sunday in South-West Londy.....