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.