I woke up several times during last night; I always do after a heavy evening of drinking, and yesterday evening was HEAVY. Smeg knows how much I drank. It was all or a good cause though: chopper said he was going t meet up with his cousins later in the evening, a combination which, by all accounts, usually results in trouble. The way in which chopper described his outings with his cousins scared me – he refused point blank to take me along as he said it would not be safe – so I decided to get him as drunk as I could so he would stay at home and go to bed instead of going to Deptford and doing something stupid. In a way, I was trying to keep him safe.

I quickly realised, however, that this was not one of my better ideas: trying to outdrink a burly south-east Londoner was foolish. I failed in my mission: chopper brought me back home at about half ten and went out anyway; smeg knows when I’ll see him again. Mind you, I did have a few good ideas for blog entries during my wakeful moments – for example, soon I intend to write one on why Political correctness is necessary – but that will have to wait until my hangover dies down.