28 Feb 2003
Anyway, all of which is to explain why I left Woodyz with only Vlad. All the babes, in the dour red light of the stage, looked like my ninety year old Granny Twinky. Also, I knew that the additional unplanned weight of fucking tinned Kalamares would mean that my Stealth Cessna wouldn’t be able to get above 300 feet even if I had wanted and with a gaggle of gorgeous Bulgarian broads on board as well, we wouldn’t make it past Switzerland. Back at the cabbage field Vlad and I punched each other goodbye and I gave him a good hard boot right in his balls to make it quite clear that I held no bad feelings for the futile mission he had made me make. He drove off across the field and through a hedge and into what sounded like deep water. This reminded me that drinking and driving was slightly safer than drinking and flying, and so in a moment of inebriated clarity I ate two cabbages to help me sober up. They must have helped as by the time I woke up I was flying across the lush green fields of Blightly.