11th April 2002
They broke me. Since I got back from Spring Break, I have spent two weeks being very ill. This was the cost of two weeks of not softing out on any night, unlike messrs. Etchells and Softatron. I have now recovered to an upright position from where I can dispense further damage to unsuspecting and thoroughly deserving individuals. I will skip the story in which we got banned from the same place on two consecutive nights in San Francisco, as I don't really remember it, despite being responsible for one of the bannings. I'll skip forward to L.A. where we were staying with my cousin in Beverly Hills, his wife and sons, 12 and 14.

We were returning from a night out at the Viper Room, the classy establishment owned by Johnny Depp outside of which River Phoenix had dropped dead several years earlier. A band had been playing which had restricted our ability to chat up the models and generally irritate people. We did see a woman who was estimated to be about 6'10" however. Closer inspection showed hands the size of tables, a voice-box and hints of stubble. I let the reader draw his own conclusion.

We had successfully negotiated what seemed to be the start of a riot on the way back, and found ourselves outside the imposing house in the Hills. The task before us was two-fold. The primary aim was to get in the house. The secondary aim was to do so without waking up the two highly vocal dogs asleep in the kitchen. The plan was that the front door would be left open, so we could get in without waking the dogs. Repeated exertions at the front door revealed something had gone wrong. I decided it would be best if I went round to the back, tried not to wake the dogs, and let the others in the front.

Obviously trying not to wake the dogs was a bit optimistic. They woke up and duly made the noise corresponding to one strange person walking through the house at 3 in the morning. I was confident the house was awake. When I got to the front door, things got worse. Whether it was my drunken state, or whether a key was needed, I couldn't get the door open. Only one thing for it. All 4 of them would have to traipse round through the back of the house. And for the second time, the dogs went off, this time corresponding to 5 strange people walking through the house at 3 in the morning. The house was definitely awake.

I retired upstairs safe in the knowledge that we were at least safely inside and the worst was probably over. I was wrong. I want you to think of the loudest vomiting noises you've ever heard. Now I want you to multiply the volume by ten. Now I want you to imagine hearing that resonating up from where your 4 drunk friends are parping about at your cousins house. I also want to remind you that my cousin, his wife and two kids were wide awake. Suffice it to say that I was not overjoyed when I heard such noises. I had images of Monkey throwing up all over the cream carpet in the lounge as I raced downstairs. My worries were unnecessary. It was Monkey, and he was safely in the toilet. Even better, he claims it was nothing more than "loud coughing". Once again, I let you draw your own conclusions.