The party was at 9pm, but I was
Forstering about with Facebook and finally got in the shower at 8.55.
Simon had been Forstering about and home with some quackish treatments for
McDonaldism and, by the time he actually got to
the docks, all the best sailors had been taken. As such, he ended up having to go home with Vladimir One-Bollock, who also has syphilis. That'll teach him.