Taking Stock

It would appear that I've been in Liverpool for a month. The fact that I can say that - and with a roof over my head, which will be paid for tomorrow, honest - comes as a nice surprise. I still have yet to hear a decent band, although happening upon this fella in a dingy basement full of Englanders glistening with sweat slightly less alcoholic than things I've paid good money for at the bar was a welcome diversion. Bartenders in this country don't seem to know the difference between vodka and water. And with the spirit measures being quite a bit smaller on this side of the Channel, drinks have a nasty habit of sneaking up on a body.
Now to teach my self how to drink vodka and coke, a skill that for one reason and another I never learned in Ireland. There's a time for everything I suppose, and the time when the offy's run out of everything else is better than most. I'll keep you posted.