Some more.

Party in the computer lab. Did you know, you're not supposed to sell alcohol after 11pm? After a treasure hunt taking us all over the empty early morning city, finding 2 wine glasses (half full!) and a newsie cap, Great Portland Street Food and Wine did not fail us in terms of selection.

Hooking up the state of the art sound system, with Newcastle.

On Lisa's last night in London, we set out to go on a Jack the Ripper Tour. That didn't happen, so we decided to drink instead. Dinner on Brick Lane again, at Aladdin's, where the BYO policy encourages finishing ones purchase of a bottle of wine. The surly service also encourages the retaining of glassware.

Onward, to Cafe 1001, where we all got carded and it was awesome. Add some shot glasses to the collection, and then, oops, the place is closing, so we move on tooo...

The Big Chill.

I'd call Mark a tool for not looking at the damn camera, but without him we would never have gotten the pitcher to go with the champagne glasses.

I love both of these, can't pick just one.

Mark cornered Lisa while some dude complimented me and explained that, because my friends and I looked 'really, you know, together and with-it. Really hip.', we could come along to his housewarming party after the bar closed if we liked.

Sadly, we didn't like, as we were bound for the last tube home.

None of my Brick Lane Adventure pictures are right side up, so here we are coming home, laden with glassware. From left to right, we have Newcastle making a face, Lisa, and the lovely Sabina. Adorable.

Why, What's over there?

Uh-oh, looks like trouble...and smells like an empty bottle of Jack.

A Call to Action

If You Give A Meth head A Hug, She'll Probably Try To Climb Up Your Skirt Later, At The Hospital, Screaming 'Vipers!' And Probably Also Grab Your Ass.

So yeah, that was Kirsten. She was probably about 30 and completely out of it when we found her, spent the whole tube ride licking Sabina's neck and making Lisa laugh. Our stop happens to be right across form the hospital, so we decided to take wasted, moneyless, ID-less, balance-less Kirsten with us.

On the way she regaled us with tabloid fodder...''Ee was to have her Killed! 'Ee was settin' her up for Murder!' and, yes, grabbed Sabina's ass.

Once inside the hospital, it took a good long time to explain that even though Kirsten didn't want to see a doctor, we couldn't take her home with us since 'We don't actually know her...We found her on the Tube...' In the middle of all this, she stiffened up, eyes wide and arms rigid, and jumped into the safety of Sabina's arms, screeching 'Vipers!'

And, then, miraculously she sobered up. Wondered why we had taken her to a hospital, when she now missed the last train home. Was so embarrassed.

Cue exit from the crazy lady.

But the night was not yet over, no. We still had to meet Jasper of big hair and Bob Marley fanaticism, and stay up all night until I had to pack and Lisa had to sober up so that we could leave straight for the plane to Pisa.

Long, long day, that was; planes and trains and then panini and the best freakin coffee in the world.

Really aggressive touristy-junk-sellers and wicked cobblestoned streets and running into scooters and dog shit everywhere in the tiny tiny streets with the big big castle walls and sgraffito. and everything is old.

And a few from Italy:

Lisa and Rebecca, at the Scottish Pub. In Florence.

We kissed the hog. No euphemisms, just the simple truth.