arrived back this morning after a fun filled weekend trip to london. went out for stuart’s going away festivities. took the last flight out of bcn on thursday night. well, attempted to take the flight out, but it was cancelled due to lazy spanish pilots ditching out on their shift. thanks guys. had to rush over to easy jet - my least favourite of airlines - to book a flight with them. finally arrived into gatwick at 12:10. arlie and stuey picked me up with a fresh delivery of curry. ahhh, bless. went over to arlie’s and passed out while watching the ever enlightening beavis and butthead do america.

friday was pamper day. went to scarlet nail bar and had manicure/pedicure super scrub combo. then off to a mini former members of peoplepc party. saw all the old folks there and drank several cosmos. had to run out to cactus blue in fulham to stuey’s dinner. arrived and there were about 30 people there drinking and having a good time. sat next to arlie and confessed my undying love and gratitude for her always answering my 7am drunken/drugged phone calls. yes, we drank quite a bit of wine and the room was a bit cloudy. didn’t eat dinner since my stomach can’t seem to handle pre-dinner drinkies and food at the same time.

saturday - waste of a day dealing with a hangover. finally got up just in the nick of time to head out again. this time to covent garden to meet the troops for an evening of boozing and dancing. walked all over the damned square in my new dolce and gabanas - which were never intended to do a second of walking on a cobble stone square. pain pain pain. why can’t anyone make comfortable shoes?!?

waited in the queue at the gardening club for a record 1 1/2 hours. i was not pleased. finally inward and had to begin taking shots of tequila to make up for loss of time and kill the pain in my heals. danced around like a bunch of fools. then arlie’s wallet was stolen. lovely london crime.

finally got kicked out of the club just in time to catch a mini cab to arlie’s house. drunken folks singing ‘don’t attack iraq’ - ‘doin’ the fraggle rock’. whatever. it made sense at the time, i’m sure. i passed out on arlie’s sofa while the rest of the crew talked shit, watched pornos, and wore funny hats. yes, another night in my life…

slept all day. got up and puked. then slept some more. missed my flight. layed on arlie’s sofa and ate about 17 meals. all the effort of a good day.

and here i am back in bcn. picked up my little moto - photos coming soon. drove it around for a bit, but now it is running out of petrol and i have no idea where a damned station is. duh…

off on friday to the bahamas to get eaten by a hurricane and practice my putt. ciao!!!