Ahh, the holiday has finally begun. My first pint. Three pounds, ten pence it cost me. Three pounds ten. It's only because i'm sending this rant from my mobile phone from o'neil's in heathrow that it's so short. Thank goodness for predictive texting, otherwise you'd be subjected to a barrage of what appears to normal man to be a random juxtaposition (amazingly predictive text predicted juxtaposition-yet it still doesn't know heathrow or Yippee) of letters and numbers that only the under 16 can decipher. Forget the enigma machine, if the germans had mobile phones and 12 year old kids, old blighty would have been done for. Okay in the time it's taken to write this, i've forgotten what i started talking about (there senior moments are occuring with alarming frequency) and i've probably missed my plane. Seeya down under xx
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