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It'll be in the book ;-)

The thing is, the small fun area of Reykjavik is full of bars that sell concoctions with names like 'The Black Death'. I thought I could hold my booze fairly well (the first sign of alcoholism)*, but I was a total amateur compared to the lads and lasses of Codland. The heady aroma of hormones seeking collision didn't help sobriety either.

*Those days of madness are long gone. A G&T and two large glasses of a nice red on a Friday, are about all I can manage these days. There are better ways of stimulating "emotion recollected in tranquility".

You can't be me, I'm taken

by Sven Triloqvist on Wed Jun 1st, 2011 at 11:07:01 AM EST
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