Sleep? Not today.

Man, hells of a week me has had. Stockholm was complete rad a tad tad ness, i hooked back up with Love and his mates again, his foot is better and they all ripped so hard, skated some raw diggy spots and drank a slew of free brew, good times! Cheers to Ricky at Wesc for hooking it up, jay-men to that!
In the haze of the aforementioned brew induced blur, the next part was hooked up for the next day, which at that stage was only a few hours away. Again, it was Ricky who hooked it up- and off I went to Amsterdam to hook up with all round gingivitis man Weiner Van Wagamama. Fwack, I tells ya something, that lad is dayim good, he was stomping out mad ledge trickery at mach speed all with a belly full of raw Herring and a mouth full of zin in.
I'm a man of fierce appetite, eating is so underrated, but when I was in Paris Soy would always forget to eat. How do you forget how to eat? I didn't get it and as food would not be on the agenda I used to have to remind to chomp before my belly went all pretzelly.
Well in Spamsterdam Wieger and his very friendly bunch of mates seemed to forget to sleep. I managed to sneak to bed at 2a.m. on the first night only for Weegsky to ring me at 3 a.m. to tell me I didn't have to wake up to let the guys in. "Dr. Phil, I'll rip for you tomorrow Dr. Phil. Hey, you film, so you're Dr. Philmer, ahahaha" Hilarious. 6a.m. and the lads decided to visit this pile of bones, just to shout "Zin innnn" a million time at me. Apparently it means amped, they only say it 1000 times an hour of everyday. 9a.m. Phone wakes me up- "Dr Phil, can you open the door?" Young fanta pants had nipped out to gerra birra Herring. Does this dude sleep? Not a lot apparently.... ever.

The next day Weaker's foot was wrecked from an open blister, so a return journey to pick up more footy had been decided. That night we went to a premiere of an interesting film documenting skating in new York from the beginning till now... and after the show it the after pardee, as R O Cealigh would say. I narrowly avoided getting lamped by a moped on the way to the free bar. Mojitos? I'd never normally indulge in such minceyness, but when someone else is playing I won't say nay'.
...Mid way through the mediocre DJ set the beats became louder and I sudden found myself in the middle of the funnest mosh pit ever as a local heavy metal band ripped the packed dance floor. At some point between the doing the Homer Simpson circle floor dance & getting stamped on by the lead singer I felt like the happyest fugger in the world. Till next time, thanks dudes!

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