Saturday, 3rd June.
Lock-in

This morning I played for the Ispurs team again. But before I set off, I made a quick call to Tasmania to find out the footy score. Carlton by a lot, that's what I wanted to hear! Mum put the phone near the radio and I listened to the 3LO wrap-up.

Bayswater station was closed because of a "security alert", so that meant that I had to travel to Maida Vale by a much more circuitous route. I arrived a few minutes before kickoff, but unsurprisingly proceedings were running a little late.

After a match that had plenty of entertainment for the spectators (one bloke's wife and their baby) we left the field victorious, although winning 6-5 is not the way to do things. After the match I put on my Carlton jumper, and we went to a local pub for a drink (lemonade for me). And the pub was called the Carlton Tavern. Rockin'. And the barmaid had a hairy neck and chin. Urgh.

On the way home I stopped off at the Everything For A Pound store to buy Jules a birthday present. I picked up a Fitney Spheres poster, an Ali G poster (featuring breasts, Jules is sure to like that) and a water pistol. I know that Si and Mox will thank me for that. As I paid for these quality items, the bloke next to me said "There's going to be some fun this afternoon!" gesturing at the water pistol. "Oh yeah," I said, "there will be mayhem aplenty." "You could fill them up with Foster's!" he suggested. "Goodonya."

I didn't bother wrapping the presents, just gave them to Jules in the plastic shopping bag. He then made for the kitchen to fill up his water pistol. I raced upstairs. Little did Jules know that I bought myself a water pistol at the same time. I've said it before, I may be an idiot but I'm not stupid!

So I filled my water pistol in the bathroom, which is upstairs. When I entered the living room, Jules not unexpectedly opened fire on me. He was a little surprised when I replied with a drenching of my own. Mox was lured downstairs and given a spray, before Jules and I embarked on a full-on water pistol fight in the house. Boys will be boys.

That evening we went to a local bar for a drink. There were stacks of medical students there. I was introduced to a bloke called Henry, who I had met before, in fact I met him at his birthday party. That was held at the pub just down the road from the Dawes Road Palace, and I'd been hob-nobbing with the medical students, and just as I was leaving I figured that I had better meet Henry, since it was his party after all. So I said hi, I'm the new flatmate, nice to meet you, I'm going home now, see ya.

Anyway, after I had been re-introduced to Henry I was introduced to Henry's sheila. Well done Henry!

As I've mentioned before, licensed establishments close at 11pm in England. Ridiculopathy. To get around this, many places have "lock-ins", where they close the doors at 11pm but keep serving. It's not very legal. There was a lock-in at the joint where we were tonight, and we stayed until late by English standards.

I'm looking for a way to neatly tie up this entry, but there isn't. Fact is the evening ended with us wandering home, and then Si and Suze had a massive barney upstairs. So I was watching all kinds of rubbish on tv waiting for them to finish so I could go to bed and get some sleep. Messy.