Chris is now hiding his head in embarrassment, after Claire found his toy fox, looked in the pocket of it's leather jacket and found an ID card for one 'Captain Foxy' of '1st Para SAS', along with a small map. The words 'Captain Foxy' keep cropping up in conversation.   Chris and Mark decided to get the beers in, and so got Ruari to drive them to a discount booze warehouse. We now have the Beer Stack - some 72 cans of assorted beer and lager - standing by the table. The stack showed some signs of instability when Chris began drinking cans from a crate halfway down the Stack, but careful positioning of spare cans has shored it up successfully.   To celebrate the dawning of a new high-booze flat, I decided to reprise the curry. After the early problems with this recipe, I cut the amount of water down severely, and administered a large dose of cornflour. This time I can claim it as a resounding success. Mark, the curry fiend, declared it 'not a korma' on the grounds that it lacked coconut. After some debate, it was agreed that the korma should henceforth be termed 'chicken curry' and all was well.   Post-curry, we headed over to visit Dave and Claire in the plush apartment in 121 Woodstock Road. The flats in 121 have the advantage of being large, light and airy, as well as possessing gas. Dave and Claire share with Christine (a physicist who we do not mention in the presence of Chris, since she is a little bit better at physics than him), but she was elsewhere. Dave and Claire were sitting in the dark, watching TV. The whole darkness thing seemed like such a good idea that we remained in pitch blackness even once the TV was switched off. It reminded us of our flat.   Eventually we left them to their own devices and returned to the flat with the intention of going to bed. Before retiring, one of us suggested a nightcap. Mark owns two bottles of spirits - the old faithful Jack Daniels, and a strange and potent brew called Gold Strike. This is a cinnamon schnapps with bits of gold leaf floating in it. Since we couldn't decided between the two, we resolved to have them both. Simultaneously. The Great Experiment had begun. The results that follow are edited for clarity and language.   Strict scientific practices were maintained for a good 10 minutes at least. In the interest of accuracy, we ate bread to clear the palate between tastings, and fresh glasses are used for each (Chris swirled them in a bowl of water procured for the purpose). The Standard Teaspoon was chosen as the basic measure, although Mark's pouring really required a tablespoon. Jack Daniels:Gold Strike - 2:1   F***ing powerful, with a very Jack Daniels-y smell to it. Rough. Jack Daniels:Gold Strike - 3:2   Gave me hot ears. Far too much cinnamon. Jack Daniels:Gold Strike - 3:2 (well swirled)   Better, with a tingling down the throat. Jack Daniels:Gold Strike - 1:1 (well swirled)   A tingle at the front of the tongue, a sweet taste at the back, a burning sensation in the roof of the mouth. Jack Daniels:Gold Strike - 2:1 (well swirled)   Feels like it is doing serious damage. Rasps the skin from the back of the throat. May be causing blindness. Something not right. Jack Daniels:Gold Strike - 1:0 (control, just for the hell of it)   Smooth. Rather nice. Would be better over ice. We try to locate some ice. We fail. Jack Daniels:Gold Strike - 0:1 (with banana - seemed like a good idea at the time)   Nice, but too much banana. Jack Daniels:Gold Strike - 1:1 (with banana)   Nice as long as the banana is kept to a minimum. Jack Daniels:Gold Strike - 1:0 (with banana)   Nasty. Jack Daniels:Gold Strike - 1:0 (with bread - we need to clean the banana bowl)   Really very nasty. Orange juice:Gold Strike - 2:1   Mark misses glass with orange juice. Orange juice, once in glass, kills the flavour. Mark nearly sick. We suspect Mark got too much Gold Strike. Orange juice experiments discontinued.   To finish the evening off, we each added a beer to the mix.   Mark: Whitbread Best Bitter - Mark considers 'best' to be basically untrue.   Chris: Carlsberg - No comment.   Me: Caffrey's Irish Ale - Really doesn't go with a potent Gold Strike/JD/orange juice/banana/bread mixture.   We go to bed. It's been a long day.
			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.