Happy Birthday to Ryan, who was 21 on the 4th, but celebrated with a party last night somewhere in the Ruislip/Uxbridge/Ickenham area. As the whole event was slight blurry, it would be unwise to think I could judge the exact geography of such happenings.

Transit to London is hard. Tickets have to be booked in advance (admittedly for a fairly reasonable fee on the National Express coaches) and departure needs to be early; around about 10am, which roughly translates to an 8.30am awakening, which is never desirable.

I got into Victoria at around 1pm and immediately made plans to meet up with Pete (Crocodile Dundee) from the the Higgs/Davies US Tour 2005. We liaised at Picadilly Circus and quickly made our way to a local bar for pre-lunch drinks. Unfortunately catch-up was short as he'd got tickets to Chelsea vs. Huddersfield, and Kristie wasn't available. I had been planning on a visit to the Design Museum, but over lunch I mulled over my other options and thought it might be worthwhile speaking to Brown considering he lives in the general area. As I finished my Big Mac on the corner of Leicester Square (I couldn't find a Subway anywhere, and food was presently the highest thing on my list of priorities) I noticed the back of someone who I was sure shouldn't be there. It was in fact Frenchy, ex-Towers/Lufbra type, ordering a McFlurry or the like for his kid brother. The surprise was mutual and we caught up on the past six months before going our separate ways and I attempted to contact Rich.

The immediate response to my call was that he was standing on Wandsworth Common about to watch Butts play rugby for some random Old Boys side. It was only three-ish at this time and I decided there was enough time for me to get over to Clapham. Two underground connections and bus journey later (my accidental oversight of the critical word 'overground' had some repercussions for the station I eventually ended up arriving at) I had arrived at the ground to watch the last 20 minutes of Brown getting frustrated that he wasn't getting a game.

The game didn't turn out to be particularly joyous for either Butts or Brown, but we headed on back to their house ('The pink one with "We Know It's Christmas" written on the front window'). The place is quality, nicknamed the Flamingo Something-Or-Other and with plenty of scope for party related activities which apparently are regular and extravagant occasions. A recent night had played host to a 'Blind Date/Ready Steady Cook' night, where three mystery girls and their vegetables (friends of a girl met on a bus journey from Brixton) were invited around for Brown, Butts and Chris to impress them with their culinary skills. Brown's description of the next morning was the house resembled a pile of 'mess and girls'.

An interesting use of Bluetooth to control the stereo has got me inquisitive.

Onwards from here, I finally joined Devito, Sean, The Swan and Jono in a pub called the Champions at around sixish, and over a number of pints and the second half of the Luton-Liverpool game, slipped into a state of intoxication.

By 8pm we had been ferried back to Devitos to change, dapper-up and get over to the lounge and bar hired out for the evening. Most of the time was spent dancing, drinking and schmoozing relatives (of the second and third ages). Barry White was on the decks and it all made for an entertaining evening. Swan let one 75 year old woman re-live her youth with a slow dance and Devito's granddad showed us the fingers when he managed to coax one of the girls to the dance floor. Devito himself, spent time being ushered between relatives and instructed to talk until each of their respective bedtimes, and in between sprinkled the rest of us with profanities.

By 2am it was probably for the best that we were packed into the car and herded into the living room to bed down. Devito had already passed out face down on the floor by the time I arrived and so I rightfully stole took possession of his duvet. Later that night I spent a good five minutes trying to push open a wall on the landing which I mistakenly thought was the bathroom door three feet to the left.

By morning we were all good. All the moments from the night before were rightfully relived over bacon butties and after an hour or so Mrs G. kindly gave us all a lift back up to The Palace. QED.

Tonight I am thinking about work, while wholly avoiding it. Swan, Mike and Devito have already headed out townwards, the Palace is quiet, maybe now is when I should start...