The margaritas were a mistake. My head felt ten times too small for me brain when we got up to get on the ferry three hours later. Not to worry though because when we got onboard Moreen had the fry on and after a quick kip I was up to go at it again. We arrived in London guns blazing, a real pack of bastards, then I rememberd me place and had a cheddar cheese ploughman's and a packet of crips. I got all the way to the end of the evening before Pete reared his head. He told the barmaid I was only 12 and that I was only allowed warm milk and oreos. It was a sad evening as we had to say goodbye to our Mothership friends as they had to go back and do some taxes or something. It made me sad. I will make sure to keep them updated via more private diary correspondence like this though. We'll, that's all for now as I'm full of hot milk and ready for me bed.
Wika Wika Jon Shadey