Half full or half full with a fly in it

Further to last nights entry, I was just now tapping away at the keyboard, and took a sip of my drink. With the water still swilling around my mouth, I looked down into the glass and a fly was on its back legs treading the air. Needless to say, i found the nearest receptacle to spit.....

I got a whole lot of photos printed out the other day, and I'm going to regularly get ones of my trip done. At the moment I'm concentrating on printing off as many of me looking as hot as possible to put in the boy's pocket before he leaves......so he doesn't forget me.

I didn't fall in love with Prague. I was walking down one of the main streets, site of the memorial to Jan Palach, the student who burnt himself to death in Wencelas Square in protest against Communism. And I might have innocently paused and said something to Sally. It couldn't have been anything more aggravating than that. And some big beefy guy, with thick glasses and vacant eyes, he boxed me in the shoulder and kept on walking. It was hard. And I was stunned, and then hopping mad. I contemplated chasing him down the road while screaming freedom at the top of my lungs with a thick scottish brogue. However, I think Sally convinced me that wasn't the most sensible course of action. Later, I would recall reading a fellow blogger's entry about thumb wrestling an unhinged individual into submission when the nutter punched him to the head while he was riding the tube. And that cheered me up considerably....
That wasn't the only reason I didn't love Prague. I found the city cold and grim-faced and haunted.