Dutch, Stuart, Dan, Sophie, Kirsty and Lou head to Woolacombe for a weeks holiday. We kept a diary, here are some of Andy's entries...... Sunday 9th September 2001 Yo whassup me nigger! I won at cricket, I cooked my mother's secret recipe pasta, and did some amazing catches when me and Barlow played catch, I did drop very easy catches however. I am going now as I have never written in a diary B4, and I'm mashed, hence the terribly bad hand writing. Sorry - DUTCH Later that day..."The Art of Wing Nik Splif" by Stuart It is the ancient ninja form of obtaining someone else's hard rollin work, with the intention of getting yourself very cained. Lesson One - this was demonstrated on the Dutch last night as he strolled around the kitchen with the joint behind his ear. "First a quick open faced palm job to the shoulder to put him off balance. Then in the same movement a slap to the face, this will surely make him look the other way, do it hard enough and the prize will fall into the awaiting hand and he won't know a thing. He may retaliate. But just run!! Monday 10th September..... Dear Dierdre, I am having very bad problems with my wife. We have sex at least twice a day, I can manage this as I am an unemployed layabout. The sex is good for me but I never seem able to make my wife ..... Oh sorry should be writing to diary..... Dear Diary, I am sober now, we had a good day in Croyde (I think that is spelt correctly), Full english breakfast, nice steak and stilton pie and scones, lager and snakebite, approx 20 fags, a few spliffs and six big fat lines of charlie (just a joke) BYE 4 NOW Dutchster Ode to the Pasty (a team effort) I love your crusty outer pastry I know your insides are very tasty Watching you in the microwave Makes my face so very grave Because I know that I can't eat you For at least another minute or two I look at you, there on my plate I add some ketchup to make you look great It's not that you weren't great before It's just that now I love you more As I put you in my mouth, it makes me smile Whilst loading up my fork with another pile Your meaty goodness fills me with such pleasure The kind for which there is no measure And even though there is no need For eating vile things such as swede You take this bulbous soily vegetable And turn it into something edible All too soon your peppery madness Ends, and I am filled with sadness The only thing that keeps me going Is that I am in the way of knowing That nestling next to the bacon and lager Is the object of another pasty saga! Ode to Snakey B! At the end of a day of sand and sea We return to the house feeling very thirsty The first person to the kitchen when we get back Hollers HOW MANY PINTS OF SNAKEBITE AND BLACK? The glasses are lined up, 6 in a row There's only one decision left to go Which of the ciders from out of our stock Scrumpy Willey, Bonking Billy or Cripple Cock? And that pretty much sums up that week.....beach, pasties and Snakey B, oh and the news on September 11th that the twin towers had fallen. I think you were watching it on the news in a chippy! Happy memories fella, still miss you and think about you often Sleep tight Louie xx