NOT FROM CONCENTRATE

Buy loadsa food and haul it to the bus stop, where we catch a bus. We get off at this garden that is full of bluebells - Laker thinks they remind him of his eyes - faggot. There is a maze aswell but we don't get lost. At the bottom of the garden, a gate leads to a beach so we walk up the road and around the cliff. We find a spot on another cove and Chris chills out for a bit. Chuck stones at little kids on a kayak and at the sea which is freezing.

Me, Louise, Andy and Wood go for a walk to find a pub, we get stranded on a beach for a bit and pull down a tree. Brandishing the bits of wood we contemplate stealing somebody's boat but take the coastal path instead. At the pub we get beers with humongous Tequila shots and get a bit drunk. Louise hates Wood - Wood hates Louise.

Back at the beach everybody has got a fire going, and a group of hippies are annoying me by being on the beach. One of them looks to about forty-five with a severe receding hairline - we are less than subtle in our judgmental remarks. We scare them off to the other side of the beach with our Twit-Twoo songs, which we have perfected now.

We run out of beers so move on to a bottle of neat vodka without a lid - each sip causes a burning sensation which surges through my body like a wave of euphoria - each sip also tastes like nail-varnish. Andy sings a lush song about certain characteristics of each of us and we have to move the tents and fire because the tide is coming in. Play spin the bottle and everybody kisses but nobody fingers.

The tents are choc-a-bloc and also freezing, even though Chris takes his shoes off with no socks on underneath. wake up at six o clock to the sound of Andy screaming Motion City Soundtrack - When You're Around and I am still drunk. It is still freezing and the ball goes in the sea and a pathetic attempt to retrieve it with a log is fruitless. I run to take a piss and my jeans roll down and I fly through the air before landing abrasively on my hands in the sand. For some reason we cook some gash sausages on a barbecue but I don't eat any. We walk back up through the garden and wait for a bus that might not come, a man does come and get out of his car to open the garden's gate. So I chuck my bottle of water at his car and ask him to pass me it but he doesn't give it back. We wave down the bus and get on it, which combined with a taxi back to Maritime , sandwiches a moment of nonrecognition in Wetherspoons toilets, as I discover my eyes to be glossed over like marbles.

Sleep loads listening to the Doors and buy £29.31's worth of stuff at Tesco. Cook Bangers and Mash before eating it with a glass of orange juice NOT FROM CONCENTRATE.