Homer Sexual

This weekend was the leavers goodbye fairway bon voyage happy travelling hope-I-see-you-again-soon -but-probably-never-will goodbye farewell goodbye party at Bananas in Uozu. Much like any other leavers goodbye farewell party I suppose, except this one had Togas. Finally Mark and I manage to wear something different.

Much to everyone’s amusement, I looked like an extra in a gay roman porno. It could be my buff body or my incredible tan, but more likely it’s just my gay looking face.


“Who are you supposed to be? You could be an extra in gay Sparticus!”

Ha ha ha everyone is laughing at me.

“More like Spurticus.” I say. Aha, now everyone is laughing with me for a change.

The night was good. Unlimited drinks for 20 quid. And unlike other countries where, when you start to look drunk, the most you get is a glass full of coke with a splash of alcohol, here the more drunk you look, the more they bait you with plastic cups full of straight spirits. Cue vomiting, crying and passed out English teachers everywhere. Not me, I was off for a short amount of Karaoke, then bed at dawn. I say bed but it was more like more like 10 people “butts to nuts” in a room the size of your toilet passed out on top of each other (no offence Jake – your place is no smaller than anyone else’s out here, but it has got more roaches).




PS I got a new answer phone! You can leave me an abusive message at 0764 675687. Kind of like a Manx number, ain’it. Crags, weren’t you on 675689? Hm, funny that.