The food situation is dire. We decided to get a Chinese takeaway, since the concept of shopping in Oxford on a Saturday is not one that should be entertained by a well-adjusted brain. Dave came over to join us in our oriental feast, since neither he or I had actually had a Chinese before. Whilst the others waited for the food to be cooked (or possibly found, killed, prepared and then cooked) I went to Victoria Wines to negotiate the purchase of a bottle of Cointreau.   After dinner we played cards, drank Cointreau, whiskey, brandy, port and anything else we could lay our hands on, before settling down to watch Platoon. After a while the relentless darkness of the Vietnamese jungle became slightly boring and I went to bed.
			The characters and situations in this diary are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happenings. Any resemblance to such things is coincidental, or just for humourous effect. All names have been chosen to implicate the innocent.