Another weekend, another trip. I went down to Coventry to spend time in my friend Joe's household, which was a pleasure as always. It gave me the chance to meet Mortimer, an encounter that was a year overdue at least. Selected highlights included a pub fetish night (think Phoenix Nights with some light flogging and you're not far wrong), a visit to the Gardens Of International Friendship As Long As You're White and being turned away from not one but two club nights due to a lack of ID. I'm 23, for fuck's sake. I don't carry my passport around with me anymore. Still, if the worst that can come from a trip is a couple of hours watching a middle aged man being seared with fire by his wife - score!
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cherry:
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wated:
I know. Sweet, isn't it?
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