Well,first blog since last week,quite a bits happened. At various times over the weekend I was 50 Grand up,getting shot to shit in a nettle infested trench,almost had my leg severed at the kneecap and had to help a giant fat monster headed baby to bed. It all occured in Belfast and was a fantastic event,believe it or not. Considering we only visited pretty much one bar and had to try and organise ourselves,30 odd of us,into a cohesive stag party it was immense. Special mention has to go to Ian Dunn who had all bases covered and whose organisational ability is second to none. Chris Dunn dressed as a giant banana,Nathan Thompson went green,threats were made in an anti British bar,ex IRA showed us their scars and Marky Bonham tried under age molesting whilst technically "asleep". Belfast,or what we saw of it,appears to be over the majority of its troubles in the main,as the taxi driver from the airport pointed out where the peace wall was/is. The flight is supposed to last about 50 mins but in reality lasted about 35-40,just enough time for a stubby can. I was astounded the plane took off at all given the weight was shifted toward the rear of the cabin with so many larger gentlemen,fat arses,giant nostrils,ten storey faces and massive jaws. Paintballing was class, with the other team only sneakin it due to Slippys constant cheating. I have to say the honesty displayed by my team was a credit to humanity. Friday night became a bit of a blur for most,and it turned out to be for Bonham also,who only marginally avoided the register and jail time. Saturday in Benedicts was good crack until the atmosphere got edgy and a few of us had to lug a mortal Fat head Dunn into a taxi and back to the hotel. I was two footed in the lift,and found it amazing that such a heavy drunken person could produce that energy. I also found it astounding as to how quickly Nostrils moved when anticipating Anthony cahrging into the hotel room toward us,with yours truly just managing to avoid severe spinal damage. How Ian Dunn restrained himself I dont know,although he did wear his gritted teeth down to the gums when we had to take Andy to bed later that evening. Sunday was good watchin the match,and Sunday evening better with Span falling foul of the dodgy scratchcards,his was only 25 grand however. I still dont think I've recovered, and I just want to say now that Wally,it was me shooting you in the back of the head teehee...oh and my bags washed minus Nathans puke.