Save a breakup, it's the world's best excuse for a Sunday night piss-up... at least to a Yank like me, unused to doing such things as part of the culture.
Lots of interesting stuff happened: between the one-man band and the incessant Jackson 5 (nobody minded), there were dogs, booze, and great curry.
If this is all too vanilla for some of you, there was some underage keg-love going on,
as well as a capella renditions of your favorite Motörhead classics.
My roommate
even managed to take a flattering candid shot of me. I really didn't think that was possible.
I'll just have to remember to drink irresponsibly next time someone does a photo shoot of me.
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