Much to our surprise, Luke, Joe, and I actually awoke early enough to do something productive today. We visited the Cabinet War Rooms early this afternoon and saw the small quarters where Winston Churchill and his advisers took refuge from the German bombs that were being dropped all over London in WW2.
Later on, we visited the Sports Restaurant, a trendy American place that cooked me up an excellent full rack of ribs. (Yes I am still eating and still getting fatter, but most of all it doesn't matter cause I still don't care how fat I get.) We then returned home and prepared for our visit to the Underworld, a club about 10 minutes walk from our flat. Eager to re-try our luck with the English women, Joe and I tried to dance with as many as possible while Luke slept on a pole in the corner of a club that was bustling with about 200 people. While marveling at how he could fall asleep standing up while about 6 feet from the subwoofer, Joe and I slowly realized that we had no chance with the English females. They would not even dance and somehow cleverly avoided my usually irresistible passes. Joe and I decided to grab some spicy chicken sandwiches at 3 am, and upon returning home at 3:30, were a bit surprised. Luke had left the club early since he is a bit narcoleptic, and upon opening the door to our house, it felt as though there was something behind the door offering resistance. Much to my amazement, Luke had not even managed to make it upstairs, and he now lay totally unconscious in the middle of the hallway. Joe and I awoke him and told him to go upstairs, at which point he sleepily grumbled, 'But dude, that's not even the problem; Joe and Mike don't have a key and need to get in.' A couple seconds later, he awoke a bit, realized that he was totally out of it, and stumbled upstairs.