Every night I plan to pop into MTB, as with tonight, it's closed because of the damned elections, so alas, I only managed to make one stop in. After a day on the grog that started around noon, I found myself walking down bangla after staying till close at Banana and heading back to a nice English girls hotel. By this stage my stomach, liver and every part of common sense was screaming out no, but I still managed to stumble my way down to MTB. I introduced myself to Nicke who in turn introduced me to another couple of bms (cant for the life of me remember names) and kept telling me how packed the bar had been a few hours back. From here it was time to order a round of beers, followed by 6 odd rounds of shots and whatever the hell that packaged herb stuff Nicke carries around is. The details become a bit blurry from there and myself perched in the middle of the bar returning my nights drinks to one of the bins. I think somehow made my way over to the bar adjacent, which had closed, and managed to bring up the rest of my stomach on their upturned stools. Finally I found myself back in my room with no shirt and one shoe. yay.
So Nicke, if by chance you remember the young messy aussie guy, be proud that that the one time I've thrown up in this whole alcohol fueled trip, was at your bar. And, uh, sorry to whoever had to clean the bin

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- Aus