Part two... the story so far: Craig hasn't updated his blogg in a while, and is desperately trying to deal with the impending nightmare of trying to remember things. Unbeknown to him, there is a bomb under the ! key of his laptop, with enough power to take out room eleven, and give Ed in room twelve a bit of a start. Meanwhile, Cath is locked in a mortal struggle with Lord Voltaire, an evil eighteenth century French philospher cum Level 9 Mage and part time amateur adult movie director. She is overcome with the mighty spell Fatigue but battles on valiantly. John is finding it difficult not to tell everyone about his deadly flesh eating virus. Paul's efforts to bed a tall Swedish blonde he had been talking to on the Internet take a hit when he turns out to be a biker called Sven. Oddly, his description was entirely accurate. This seems good enough for Paul. Charl has spent seven days held hostage by Neo-Nazi freedom fighters, but as yet, no-one has expressed any concern. She'll probably be OK.

So yeah, I won at croquet against John, but I did have 8 bisques. Hopefully that will prove to be too many and that my current assumed handicap of 24 is too high. It was fun though, but we both made as lot of mistakes.

Saturday night was good. We had a few drinks and a bit of a laugh and a dance and watched Alice make a pillock of herself. What else could you want? Steph (Stef?) seemed like a really nice lass, and nowhere near as bad as Alice has warned us about. Ra people don't claim to be terrible dancers. The Ra people are blessed with the Dance. Much like the gay people and Jamaicans. Tom is also blessed with the Dance. He draws attention to his crotch in a subtle yet hypnotic fashion. It is a beautiful crotch.

There is another guy in my lectures who now annoys me. He just likes to talk. He also knows nothing. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.

Speak soon,

Craig! *explodes*