Pope Black, in a SUIT, an actual BUSINESS SUIT, ran off for a job interview. Rev. Contra-Diccion showed us how to take the Harringay Station train to the Finsbury Park Tube Station.
First, we stopped at Russel Square Park and drank beer' then we entered the British Museum.
We reveled in Celtic and Euro-antiquities, and Devil-Heads Through the Ages. A 5,000-year-old grocery list. An Ancient Egyptian Feet collection. Astrolabes. 20,000 year old porn - possibly the most-jacked-off-to "Venus" sculptures of All Mankind's Time. Bronze age hatchets. GOLD hand axes! The skeletons of Great Men... KINGS and EMPERORS, lying there with their butts exposed to everybody. CLEOPATRA HERSELF, in a ratty old sack of rags. An ivory horn with the entire New Testament engraved on it. A room of sci-fi clocks. Etc. Went outside, drank beer, went back in.
Drank yet more INSIDE the museum, and wandered yet more.
Left the museum, and got REAL drunk, bumbling around the Russel Square area and buying cans of Eurobeer at Tesco. Used the park's amazing 20-p automated pay toilet repeatedly.
Lost one sack of beer on the train home, but bought another at one of the zillion Turkish stores near Pope Black's that sell booze illegally after hours.
Got drunker, and looked at our photos on ErRoR's computer with ErRoR and Pope Phil.
I woke at 3 in the morning with the worst death-headache in the universe, took pills, tried to sleep again; but had the Slow Ovals, so then grabbed a nearby empty cardboard box, and puked out guts, pills. Wei exceedingly patient, understanding. Felt slightly better, and died until morning.
***************************NOW TO PART 6