How to shit an Apple

Tomorrow begins it. I've kinda been telling myself it's not going to happen, but it is. What a foolhardy thought I now know. Stuck in the guts of thing I will be tomorrow, and I'll have to drink my way out. I fucking can't wait!

There quite a reasonable chance that they'll spot us attempting to enter their country in which case I'll have to do what I've so often done before, and deny all knowledge of my freinds. Ross is hoping for a nice cavity search (as it's been a while since he flew to the states and he misses them). He's probably going to have trouble getting back into Ireland actually, as easy as it is, becuase he'll have a hard time trying to convince the authorities that his new wife IS ACTUALLY a woman. Moe will probably be okay, and as the sensible one will probably be looking after us ... hopefully pulling us out of any ambulances that try to steal us at dead of night. Simon's been very quiet of late and I think he may explode in a burst of repressed party. I think Simon is the most likely to wake up with his trousers around his ankles at the base of the statue of liberty.

Anyway, gotta cut this short cause I gotta go to bed.

See ya over there.