Jog on Bieber

Jog on bieber I woke up this morning (2:30pm) with little clue where I was, how I got there. Luckily I had a very interesting list scrawled on the back of my left hand with which to piece together my night. And day: Sailing Morph suit/mariachi Fiddler Scotland vs USA (friends) Drink 4-5 years Pavarotti Under wear -pink and frilly The is one more word at the bottom of the list but most of its rubbed off onto my face after a night sleeping on it, I think I might get a dictaphone. Sailing : after a heavy night out in town I woke up Saturday morning on a sofa in base backpackers from a slap in the face from Niall, and was confronted by a small shaggy looking spaniel who insisted on telling me how good I was at sleeping. Then the rest of me woke up and the short spaniard told me he had saved me from several tea baggings and having cocks drawn on my face. I staggerd out into the sunshine a went straight for the harbour, via a cafe for a full English (which included a sausage that looked suspiciously like a roasted hedgehog) I booked myself on a Trip around Auckland harbour on the NZ Americas cup sail boat. So I spent the afternoon learning how to sail an 80ft boat in the glorious sunshine. Morph suit /mariachi: Walking up queen street, trying to decided where to eat and if another beer will help my situation or put me on dialasys. All of a sudden my shadow tears itself away from me and goes running up the high street. I suddenly realise it is in fact someone in a black morph suit. Head to toe in a black single piece of spandex, this(I can only assume going by her voice and size) teenage kiwi girl begins to moonwalk up the street. I over hear her say "you know, when no one can see your face it just makes you want to dance". At that exact moment a mariachi band busking round the corner strike up, morph screams " sombrero" at the top of her voice and begins to throw some shapes. Fiddler: a small Irish pub, where the beer is cheap, the staff are friendly, and they have a Justin bieber assassination fund collection jar on the bar. I donated generously. Scotland vs USA: my Scottish friend Niall got into an argument with an American outside the pub. No holds bared, he goes right for the 'your whole country is ignorant' argument, while the American rightly assumes Scotland is full of loud angry drunks. I don't know how this argument started but it's finish was fantastic. Niall :"the tv, the telephone, Tarmac, all Scottish inventions. What have have Americans got? Friends..." Drinking 4-5 years: the Grill staff and myself in the fiddler, talking about booze as you do when your full of it. We all work out that with the exception of illness, none of us had had a single day from drink in the last 4-5 years. Oh dear. There is a beer in a pub in Nz, made by Belgium monks, it's so rare and so amazingly good that it costs £101 a bottle. I want some. Pavarotti: I have absolutely no idea why I have that written on my hand. Good singer though Frilly pink underwear: I'll leave that one to your imaginations.