I just spent all night in some kind of horror that I can't begin to explain. But I must . So I will try. It was Liam's birthday, and he was playing music, I use that word advisedly. It was fucking horrendous. Like being in the Dubliner on a bad night in 1992. With really shit stupid people from a country that was admitted into the European Union because they sort of had to be, A bit like the people you never want to come to your party, and they are going to come anyway so you may as well invite them, be really rude and hope they go away.

Soon.

But they didn't and I then had to stop them being sick in plantpots, shouting and picking fights.

But I don't live in shitty England anymore. Which was what it reminded me of. There were so many people who posibly would have come in and then didn't. And for sure never will again. We spend months building a feeling for the bar and it gets shit on. Easily. In one night.

I really don't want to have to put up with thinking about the general situation, whilst listening to bollocks heavy metal, rubbish house, nasty techno, nerve curdling drum and base, and generally wondering if 'musical' torture is excuse enough cause for murder.

I would argue that it is.

That was the friday that was.

And this is the facebook comment for toinight..Are you talking about the French people Alexi? Well for them it's difficcult to bring their brains along with them. They've been collecting the kind of small euro cent coins that everyone else doesn't bother picking up when they drop them. Saving them in a bag .Packing for their holidays in a manner normally used by un Frenchl people for clothes, and then paying 40 euro bills with twatty little coins. Without a tip.