Sweet Caroline, ba ba ba! The good times never seemed so good.

May 17, 2006

Got into the Palace last night, unpacked in a room with 7 other people, then went to Tesco to buy some cup-a-soup and apples. Got back, ate dinner, drank whiskey, and went to the pub with Conor and some of the hostel staff like I always seem to do. We had some pints and shots of tequila and sambuca and Mark told me his sorry tale. He was in London and a gang beat the shit out of him, set their pit-bulls on him, and hacked him to shit with an axe. He's got a slice and stitches across the back of his head, both legs are bandaged, he's missing a finger and the rest are fucked up, and he has to-the-bone cuts along his hands, back, and chest. I read the article on the incident that he cut out of the paper, and I almost cried. The guy is a fucking trooper, it happened four weeks ago and he's already moving around doing odd jobs and shit. Anyway, after drinks, we stumbled back to the hostel and in the morning I realized that a fat stack of cash had been stolen from my wallet. My cd player and camera, in plain view, had not been touched. I felt like I'd been punched in the face. I had no cash on me other than a wad of Canadian bills I was saving for an emergency. Well, I guess this is my emergency. We have a new driver today named Joe, and Conor wasn't too happy to see me go, kept winking at me while I was getting my shit ready, and blowing me kisses as the bus drove off. Nothing happened at all between us, but I thought he was really cute. Still missing Owen a little, haha.