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Moorlough Shore Peggy Gordon Spancill Hill My Lagan Love Old Town Old Town Haste to the Wedding Haste to the Wedding
Slowly - For the Guardian of the Three
Jesus God (Sorry, God)

It's been a little while. I've been reading over the past entries and it doesn't feel like me who did any of that. Screw me sideways, but I remember going out! I remember drinking and watching matches and, sod it, eating in gorgeous restaurants while getting thoroughly smashed on red wine that someone else ordered.

Which reminds me: why do people say to me that I should try the wine? Not the waiters, but the people at my table? It has one purpose for me; I don't care what the hell it tastes like as long as it's wet. There are only two different wines for me and I very much follow the idea proposed by Dylan Moran; there's the wine you sip and think 'mmm, that's quite nice. We'll take eight bottles of that.' or there's the one where you say 'gyack hack ack Jesus!' And I'd still drink it if it were at the table.

I should point out that I am not good with wine. No matter how bad it tastes, I always find it a little moreish. Well very really. I will not, however, get so lampshaded (thank you, Micheal Macintyre) as to think that I am King Of The World and you must all bow down. No. Never.


Dear LiveJorunal,

I am enjoying. Weather is good - it is December, after all. Arrived safely, having a good time and will see you soon.

Hugs & Kisses from Sorento.

¿Donde?: Home Mk II
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Cake or Death?