Felt like it too - think it might have been the "night cap" once I poured myself back onboard RB. Mind you I blame Steve for pouring the wine in ½ pint tumblers. At least I can remember the noodles for supper which is more than Simon can /forums/images/graemlins/tongue.gif
Why risk the boat sailing round in F6 when one can feel just as queasy the next morning (afternoon) after 4 litres of wine and a ½ litre of scotch while safely tied up in the marina!
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"Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity"
Yup - will need to restock again - this is becoming a routine chore - I'm going through more plonk then Diesel these days /forums/images/graemlins/frown.gif
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"Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity"
The point Dear Boy is best explained by asking you to think back to your late teens when Sir John Hunt et al made their way successfully to the summit of Everest and when questioned why did remark "Because it is there"
Case Rested.
I was pontoon sick - it kept moving. /forums/images/graemlins/shocked.gif
At least I had managed to get my trousers on before I fell up into the cockpit /forums/images/graemlins/smirk.gif - I thought I was doing well considering.
I would still like to get my hands on the [word removed] trying to waken the dead with his bow thruster at 8:30 in the morning - absolutely no regard for others' hangovers - If I had been able to lift my head off the pillow I would have told him off /forums/images/graemlins/grin.gif
Thought you were off to Nice tomorrow /forums/images/graemlins/wink.gif or have your froggie colleagues put the blocks on the trip? /forums/images/graemlins/frown.gif
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"Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity"
The Point of Ardnamurchan is nowhere near bloody Everest.
Which reminds me, after the Brazilian Grand Prix in er ninety-seventy-something, James Hunt was returning to his room with a dark and exotic beauty. The hotel receptionist told him that taking women up to one's room was forbidden.
'Whaddya mean?' Says James. 'This is my sister....'
What's that busy pub in Tobermory that has working models of Shakespeare's Scottish Play '3 Hags'? They screech, cackle, and jiggle about the fire in mid-October and March?
Oops! They're Customs and Revenue bints doing team-building....