Not Brazilian enough for this

Friday: Went out for a few drinks with the Irish girl and a few others. Few drinks turned into lots of drinks, and we ended up in Soda for Brasilica night. Hmmm. Did you ever go to a club and feel completely out of place? Okay, so we weren't the only Western Europeans there, but it certainly felt like it. Had a good night, despite Soda being a dive[14] and that I couldn't dance to most of the music being played[15].

Saturday morning: Hung over, worked on word count.

Saturday afternoon: Went to watch the rugby with RB. Repeated last week's guinness-drinking exploits, but managed to get home a little earlier (and a little soberer).

Sunday: Hung over, worked on word count. Won NaNoWriMo (more of that tommorow).

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[14] The clincher for me is the fact that the fag burns on the bright red vinyl seats, of which there are plenty, have been patched with black electrical tape. Classy.
[15] Okay, you could say I can't dance to any music, but let's not split hairs.