We've just come back from our annual trip to the coast, and to be honest, we had one hell of a time.
The boy Tony seems to lose his aggressive edge when he moves out of London, and seems more relaxed at the seaside, where he says he feels like he's in another world.
We were joined by our mates Glen, who had his iron bar with him, and Andy, who spent most of the weekend wanting to fight with anybody who even dared to give him a dirty look.
The lager flowed, the cheeseburgers were great and the pizzas were fantastic.
We all stayed in a cheap hotel that overlooked the beach, and although it wasn't a five star affair, we found the hotel comfortable and welcoming. Of course, we left the hotel in the middle of the night, because we had no intention of paying for our rooms, because our unemployment benefit only just pays for our lager and cigarettes.
Anyway, as Tony said as we left like thieves in the night, we left our rooms tidy when we left, so apart from the fact that we haven't paid our six hundred pound bill, the hotel owner hasn't really got that much to complain about!