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Eight pints.

Eight. Fucking. Pints.

That's almost 4 liters of beer. 4 liters.

These Irish guys are crazy. Fun, but crazy.

I haven't been this drunk since Prague.

You wouldn't believe how long it took me to write this entry.

Tomorrow? Tomorrow we're starting class late. Tomorrow we're ending class early. Tomorrow is Hangover Day.

Eight. Fucking. ( Read more... )

Israeli customs law dictates rather strict limits on how much alcohol and tobacco you are allowed to bring into the country, duty free. 2 bottles of liquer is the limit, I believe, and a similarly restrictive amount of cigarettes. British customs, however, take a slightly more liberal approach:


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You can tell this hotel is fancier than others I've been to, even for a businessman's hotel - the internet is free, there's a European/Israeli power plug on the desk and there are 4 different flavors of soap - Cream, Apple, Orange and Lemon.

Also - Coke Zero!

Yesterday morning, I had no idea who Amy Winehouse was. I saw the name on somebody's LJ tagline, I think, but nothing more.
Last night, velfadar dropped over and gave me a listen, and I copied a bunch of tracks from both her albums, then listened to it on the flight over.
Then I was sitting in the airport reading an abandoned newspaper, and ran into a ( Read more... )

"Wanna go for a beer before your flight?", my IM flashed.

"Nah. Gotta get up real early. Too tired for a late-night beer".

"How about an early-morning beer, then?" the challenge was issued.

Several ping-pong messages later the issue escalated an none of us could back down. 4:30am. Gotta be some bar open. We'll get up and have a drink. Each one ( Read more... )

First, a comment about seating. There's nothing more depressing than getting nosebleed seats to a great concert. The Flaming Lips are in town the same day I am and there are no tickets available for the stalls with the crowd, only up in the dress circle. And not any seats in the dress circle - no, I got tickets for row Z. Yes, that's right. Up in ( Read more... )

In the entrance to the Tate Modern gallery is a large hall, perhaps 20 meters tall. Its ceiling is paved with mirrors. On one end is a large, yellow sun - half real, half reflection. The roomis kept smoky and misty and dense, and the light is dark yellow like a dying star. The people lie on the ground to look up at their reflections from the ( Read more... )