This weekend’s four day trip to Scotland was a memorable experience. We started out with the 4 hour train ride on which we met about ten really cool people with whom we would end up spending the majority of the trip. We spent the first night in Edinburgh and visited a local pub before returning to the hostel for some sleep. The hostels were truly a treat when compared to our small flat; others complained, but to Luke and I, the soft mattresses they provided were simply the shit. On the first full day, we visited the Scottish Highlands, which I seriously cannot even describe; the green mountains and the numerous springs made it a site to behold. There were also a ton of sheep, which Luke and I unsuccessfully attempted to chase and capture;they are much faster than they look, and after pursuing them for about fifty feet, we would usually stop and curse after looking at our shoes and realizing that we had stepped in all of their shit. It was the sheep who were the true winners. On the second full day, we decided to jump into Loche Ness after touring the massive body of water and hearing all about the eighteen creatures with “water jet technology” who live inside its boundaries. After stripping down to boxers, we all entered the chilled 40 degree water slowly; we were told that jumping in too quickly could put one into shock. The jagged rocks did not feel too good on the feet; the numerous cuts and bruises that I am staring at right now provide adequate proof. Anyway, it was so much fun that we actually did it again. The ten of us then walked back to the hostel; I did not put any of my clothes back on and managed to get some weird looks from the locals during the ten minute walk back. The forty degree water definitely compromised my manhood, and it took a twenty minute hot shower to reverse the effects of Loche Ness.
I would now like to take the time to address an issue which caused me much stress during the trip to Scotland: Females who do not return the alcohol favor. At least two or three times, Luke and I would buy drinks for ourselves and a girl or two, or three. These girls also promised that they would “get the next round.” However, not one of these caniving females stayed true to their word. This is definitely a problem, and for the remainder of this trip, I will no longer buy any beer for any girl, no matter how nice or pretty she is. I think I may even keep this resolution for the rest of my life. In retrospect, chasing the stupid sheep was more fun than trying to whoo the pretty women. Well, I gotta go. Until next time, Lisman

<links> <pictures> <writings> <me>
.