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Apologies for the distinct lack of updates the last couple of days. I can assure you all that we are not dead, although we are starting to smell like it.
Monday: We found a lovely field and had a glorious time watching the sun set. A discussion on the zombie apocalypse tailed off into a deep and meaningful lament about WWII that ended with Joe knocking seven shades of s***e out of Rob with his cup. Rob for the forth night won the much coveted prize of most hammered. On his descent from the field, he ripped his shorts on barbed wire (and potentially a testicle too). Ads' sunglasses broke and in a fit of despair hoyed Robs snake skin sunglasses into the abyss. Celebrations were put in hold as they were found the next day. A mild rave took place on return to the boat, whilst others (mostly Ben) were violently sick.
Tuesday: Rob once again won the award for most hammered. A planned 0.3m walk to the local shops turned out to be a 0.9m hike. On the way Rob dropped his shorts and stood posed by the side of the road in his boxers. One half of the crew went to the pub, whilst the others set off on the journey to the shops for booze and fags. An awesome chippy was discovered on route back and sone kids were fascinated by Micks eye. Rob set off back to the boat by himself and (even after being pointed in the right direction by the pub team) managed to take the wrong turning. To compound the situation he ended up in someone's back garden, eating scampi, with his shorts once again around his ankles.
Wednesday: Due to the previous nights exploits, Rob vowed not to get hammered and not to drink till at least four. We stopped off once again in the lovely racist town Penkridge where we topped up on strongbow. Rob somehow (he drank all the booze) ended up most hammered again. Rob died on the couch whilst the crew attempted some night driving. We went as far as we could until we could go no further. Once back aboard our fine vessel, and the Kracken Rob once again awaken, some impromptu phone calls were made by Mick and Rob to celebrities of varying degrees of fame. All manner of items were asked for from business directories and the poor b***** left manning a national right winged newspaper was given numerous top celeb filled stories. Suffice to say we expect helicopters and a knock in the morning.
It is now chucking it down and we're all covered in weils disease. It stinks of poo in here. It absolutely reeks. Many of the things written about Rob are in fact lies made up to damage his character. He wasn't even the most hammered yesterday, that was the Egg. Or possibly Gaz, who in a foolish act of bravado vowed to make sure Rob wasn't most hammered by getting more hammered than him. Dave Clegg just looked at me straight in the eye and shouted "scat", so I have to go now in case he tries to act on the threat.
- comments
Jade Goody This is exactly what I always wanted Big Brother to be. This should be pitched to Channel 5 as an idea for a programme. Voice-over by Michael Burke.
Peter Bazalgette I'm on with it RIGHT NOW