Keys, keys, Keys.

Had a new arrival in the appartment today, a Canadian chap called Stephen. Seems like a good guy, didn't moan about jetlag despite his commute, so should fit in well. I was grinding cash last night at the Crown it went pretty well. I was sat next to Tony Cascarino, so was obviously already starstruck when who should wander over but Neil Channing. To my delight he uttered an ironic "marvelous" in one of his tales.

I slept in today whilst the others headed to a Kickball game organised by Tony Dunst. Upon waking I called mongy, it's a testament to Bond's hospitality that Scott told me they were in a flat number that did not exist... The other boys were looking a bit pale, thankfully I chanced upon them leaving the building whilst loitering outside.

After eventually managing to ascertain the room number I headed up to see Mongy. Bond's joint was pretty swish with panoramic views across the city. My camera work didn't really do them justice:

After a rather weak, nondescript Victoria Bitter(It's not even an ale but a larger),LuckyChewy and KingDan arrived and we headed to a Japanese style restaurant. Rupert called just in time to rescue me from the pork dumpling starter, they were locked out of the apartment and not really in any fit state to get back into town. Shame really, am sure everyone would have been impressed by my chop stick prowess and extensive noodling knowledge. I did the noble thing, made my apologies and taxied back. N.B Trying to get any banter out of people in tertiary jobs is like trying to get blood out of a stone, obviously doesn't stop us trying though much to Mongy's displeasure and Sweir's delight.

Props to Sweir for making it all the way to the front door, Rupert only made it as far as the sofa in reception to get his 40 winks!