The Stag Weekend pact:
The weekend has landed. All that exists now is clubs, drugs, pubs and partys. I've got 48 hours off from the world man. I'm gonna blow steam out of my head like a screaming kettle
I'm gonna talk cod-shite to strangers all night.
I'm gonna lose the plot on the dance floor.
The free radicles inside me are freaking man.
Tonight I'm John Travolta, Peter Popper, I'm going to never never land with my chosen family man.
We're going to get more spaced out than Neil Armstrong ever did.
Anything could happen tonight, you know this could be the best night of my life.
I've got 73 quid in my back burner, I'm gonna wax the lot man, the milky bars are on me.
What happens in Prague - stays in Prague.
T'internet in hotel room
Good morning Swindon, this is Prague.
Officially the city with the fittest birds I've ever seen, they are stunning. And you can buy them
There's a strip club round the corner, 35 quid for a 'dance' with 'touching', 50 quid for the works.
I've been bad, very bad..
