Well, I'm writing this from a hostel on Hollywood Boulevard, Clauds sitting next to me - probably talking to Kevin. Flights were knackering: the main events were my expectance to be fully groped through Gatwick security while Clauds got tickle-searched, the girls making friends with a drunk aussie called Eddy (pronounced "Iddy"), iceburgs near Canada, hackysack (sp?) in NewYork Newark airport: Spud says "If anyone loses this, you're going home" before swiftly losing it himself, getting free samples to the point of shunning from a sushi lady, RUNNING to the flight - it wasn't on the screen and they hadn't announced it, yet we were almost late, y'know that little apprehensive wait at the gate before you board? Yeah, we missed that. Blades of Glory: "If you can dream it, you can do it" in-flight movie.
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