Basically being a twat my little brother couldn't turn up a the pub at the agreed 18:00 and insisted on pushing us back to 18:15. Then as my father and I arrived in the pub my little brother texted (sms) to announce that he would then be arriving at around 18:30 due to trains. This of course forced me to drink a pint. If you want to know the details of the conversation that ensued you could either of hacked one of the several smartphones on the table or just wait until tomorrow when my little brother will be hosting a debate at the House of Commons over libraries and eBooks. Apparently my suggestion of just rolling up and going; "Look I've had a heavy night and it's a debate about library's so Shh!" just wouldn't cut it. However the main focus of the debate was over whether FC Braga are white enough to play in Serbia (as my brother thought) or black enough to be Portuguese (as I thought). Sadly we were rudely interrupted by the fact that being an idiot my father had left a pint of Carlsberg on the bar which in a Wetherspoons is normally enough to provoke a small riot. It was at this point I Googled "Brega" and discovered it to be a small town in Libya. Then because my brother drinks like a little girl who used to work at the EU and has no concept of half-time I was forced to drink another pint and buy one each for the guys who finally tipped me off. Unfortunately I made the mistake of leaving them on the bar.
So now my father's dropping my brother off at the overground stations it seems like and appropriate moment for me to adjust the length of my pencil.
20:00 on 23/10/12.
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