Well, its been a while since we got drunk. Infact, just over a week. Admittedly the LowerFlat’s exploits in Petersfield are, at the moment, unrecorded, namely because we couldn’t quite remember exactly what happened, and then endured a matching set of 2 day hangovers. Ouch.

However, since Petersfield had been to celebrate the end of Rich’s exams, it only seemed fair that since Jim, Ross and Mark all had their final (and infact only) exam that a few beers were had in celebration. We were joined on the occasion by Paul ‘Mr’ Hayford, who for those of you who where paying attention joined us and Jean-Pierre the Polar bear on our visit to Calais back in December.

Jim met Mr H off the train shortly after the end of the exam for a couple of pints in Gunwharf and then moved on to Tequila Vodka Redbull in Tiger Tiger before Phil K joined for an inpromptu trip over to the Isle Of Wight. Only, we discovered on arrival that there wouldn’t be a ferry back for at least an hour, so got straight back on the boat. Thank goodness for cans of Fosters.

The intrepid travellers met the rest of the group at Apsley House where Mark was a little worse for wear making some rather amusing demands of Lucy having just Seven-Balled her at Pool. Meanwhile as the Cider began to flow, it seemed that Gubbs and Rich were going to settle the LowerFlat Pool Challenge following on from last time’s 1-1 draw. Before we can continue though, we have to include a message from Gubbs for Legal Reasons:

Just remember, when you put this on the website to point out that I beat Rich… which means he lost.

Which should make it blatantly obvious by now that Gubbs was infact victorious in what had previously been called the ‘deciding game’… which seems to have also resulted in the rules being changed to include more games.

Before too long, Mark and Gubbs left Apsley House to join Ross and a few others at Tange whilst the rest of us finished our drinks and returned home… which for Phil just happened to be London… Jim and Paul arrived home a little later having gone walkabout down the seafront to find Mark in the kitchen in a somewhat inebriated state and attempting to consume small chunks of cheese. After convinving Mark that calling his girlfriend at 1am was not the best of ideas he conceded to go to sleep.

Not that anyone got much sleep. Ross rolled in around 3am with Gobble and a still un-named 3rd man, and proceeded to spend most of the next 3 hours treating the rest of the house (and no doubt the neighbours) to a selection of music… and try and Jim, Rich and Mark could, there was no shutting him up. Revenge was served a little later when Ross awoke on the sofa (with no cushions), on enquiring why he wasn’t in bed the answer was quite simple…

“I think there are two men in my bed…”

… another night out for the residents of Chetwynd Road then…