One More Drink... A phouto essay

Sourry for the late nature of this poust.  Last night (sunday) was a little rough.

After our brilliant cruise taking in the sights along the Thames...

Stabbey Road Trip Factoid:  This is where they take London Bridge for repairs after it falls down!

...Keith suggested we head back to the hotel for an early night.  I figured, "Well, it's our second evening in London... why not just go out for one more drink?"

And I meant it.

I really did.

One.  More.  Drink.

It started out innocently enough...

...Keith didn't even really want to drink, but we somehow managed to convince him.  

"DRIIIINK IIIIIIT!"

Of course, one drink turned into two....

"DRIIIIIINK IIIIIT, I SAID!!!"

...which was fine for a minute....

...until it wasn't anymore.  We left the first bar to go and check out what else was happening in the neighborhood.   Some club promoter found us and took us to this place...

...thinking we would enjoy a big, horrible straight club.

He was mistaken.

We had just one drink there before running outside to find "just one more place" to have "one more drink."  On our way, Keith got stopped by two guys who were maybe a little handsy.

Keith looked over to Bookie for some support, but...

...well, Bookie was busy laughing at the situation.  I would have helped, but I don't like to get involved in these scenes;  I'm just there to document it like any true filmmaker/writer/hack reality TV producer.

Eventually, Keith broke free of the creepos and we went to some other bar, which involved some terrible stairs...

Too late!

Here, we found some other creepos...

...and more creepos found us. . .

Do you know this girl?  Because I don't.

London's Conan O'Brien:  Counan Ou'Briun!  (U)

..and that's when things started to get a little fuzzy...

 ...and dark...

Eventually, we somehow found our way back to the hotel, which, for the record, is not located anywhere near here:

We called Jon for a bit, although I was out of my mind by this point.  Oh, and the sun was coming up...you know, because it was five in the morning.

F'd.

  

Luckily, along the way, we picked up this piece of advice from one of the bars:  

  

#3 says "Fall into the canal."  I think I just might.

See you in the Thames!  Right-o, then!  Pip, pip!