A decent nights rest and very little to drink the previous night meant we were feeling fine. We set off to enjoy Prague during the daytime. not phased by the seemingly ineffectiveness of the ‘Slavic plan’ it was decided that if we were to run into any nefarious creatures on the trams or in the streets silk would address me in Serbian – though sadly not on the Serbian finger phone – and i would respond with ‘Da’. What could possibly go wrong?
Never one to take more than i give, here is a little bit of education for y’all. Wikipedia is a bit like a pick-a-path novel sometimes. Reading an article on Australian sports fans being limited to 24 cans of beer for the annual Bathurst 1000 race and the associated uproar, some young upstart for the BBC has tried to claim that the title given to Aussies as big drinkers may be erroneous. Typical really – whinging frigging poms trying to take some other title off us. Let me just reassure you, we will confidently drink you under the table. The Germans…will drink you under the table. The Irish…will drink you under the table…then wake you up to do shots.
"If you should die before me ask if you can bring a friend..."
"I won't be round today"
"You're perfect, yes, it's true...But without me you're only you"
"What do you do when all your enemies are friends?"
