I woke up feeling slightly anxious as to what I might find when I made it to Brighton. IF I made it to Brighton. I caught the train in Dundee and made the hour or so journey to Glasgow, where I was supposed to meet a Danish guy who looked more than a little bit like Barry from Eastenders. Having got off the train, I wandered around until I saw the aformentioned pig farmer chuckling away at me whilst ordering food from Burger King. What's so funny about my hair anyway? We shook hands and headed for the car to start the long drive to the south coast.

TFS had hired a car - 'champagne' I think the colour was described as. It soon became known as 'the streak of piss'... Our first stop for petrol was comical - we pulled off the motorway in search of a petrol station and proceeded to cruise around Eaglesfield. Having no luck, we stopped to ask a local, only to find another car pulled up doing exactly the same thing and to be told that the nearest petrol station was at the next motorway turn off. And when we eventually did get there and refuelled, Baconballs decided to leave via the wrong exit! We had reverse back up it (narrowly avoiding the on-coming traffic) and leave southbound. Muppet.

We got to Bristol where we agreed to meet Odin and had to spend ages looking for him. We eventually spotted him in his bright orange(!) Holland top and continued the journey. More wrong turnings/missed exits later and we eventually hit Brighton - yet another wrong turn led TFS to perform a Hollywood style U-turn in the middle of a busy road on the front. You could almost imagine the car on two wheels.

Having eventually made it to the Slum Hotel, we were greeted by a bouncy convict woman, who we decided was too happy for her own good. We did the usual signing in nonsense as Mark came in. I took my 10 minutes of abuse from that poof and dumped my stuff in my room. We all met up again and decided to fetch the others. We knocked on L9L's door with shouts of "Bomb Squad! Come out terrorist, we know you're in there!" and for some reason, I was nominated to go fetch JtY (it seemed like noone dare - I must admit I was quite nervous when I knocked, I didn't really know what to expect) The Slum gang complete, we hit the town to find Evo and went to the chippy! We also found a very convenient 24 hour bar where many a pint of Stella was downed and where Mark tried to hard-sell me an Abbey National student account.

The Saturday was spent taking in the sights and a few of us bought a cheapy plastic football on the pier and got it covered in piss by kicking around in some shithole where drunks obviously siphoned their pythons. It later became known as 'the pissball' and ended up in a bush outside Croyden I believe, when Reb threw it out of his car because of the stench.

That was also the day of the Leeds/Man Ure game, where we met Reb for the first time and daniele turned up with some random guy, who none of us knew but we all thought was with daniele - it turned out that he'd met him on the beach and followed him to the pub and apparently was checking out his arse. Hmm. We went to a pub for some pool and drinks while Mark and TFS went to the Millwall game and later went to the dogs - a great night out. It was there that I was hassled by a bunch of young girls whose 'mate fancies you' etc etc. I couldn't get rid of the gobby litle cow that kept pulling me over to her mates and the other poofs decided it'd be a laugh to photograph me. Gah! I think Mark's version of the story was 'moddy asked out an 8 year old and she turned him down'. Reb, Odin and the Yank seemed to be making a few quid out of the dogs and come the last race, we all threw a few quid into the pot to back the crappest dog with the longest odds. It later emerged that Reb had secretly backed another dog in that race. As it happened, the 'crap' dog ran into Reb's dog during the race and came in last!

We headed back to our 24 hour bar and watched Charlton getting thumped by Arsenal on the premiership and I ended up sitting til 4 a.m. talking tripe with the Yank. I think Reb ordered 12 pints of Stella or something, in one round as he was well up after the dogs. He had to be carried home by Evo, the soft poof. I got back to my room to find the door open and some cunt had done one with all my property. Hundreds of quids worth of stuff too, I had loads of CDs for the long car journey for start. The next morning, the bouncy convict desk girl was being particularly nice so we decided she stole the stuff. After TFS had finished drooling. I thought she was rank. Age must lower your standards.

I wore my specially made CMC T-Shirt that day and we ate breakfast before saying our goodbyes and setting off on the long road home. I slept most of it, I was knackered and TFS listened to the Spurs game on the radio. I think 9 and Mark went for a stroll on the pier and Jason took the train to Hastings, to continue his little holiday jaunt.

A good time was had by all!

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