Drunk in a taxi

Friends were in town this evening, so I took them to Soho Spice and then ti Frites, and after they'd tired of drinking wine and Belgian beer, we staggered to Lan Kwai Fong and the Hong Kong Brewhouse. And hence I'm drunk, and in a taxi heading for (possibly) Happy Valley, to sweat this alcohol out before tomorrow.

Along the way we had a long discussion about how you organise a company to make customers happy, how search engines work in China, and how you'd be mad to work for an airline. Unless you loved the smell of kerosene and free seats on planes (or free seats inside the toilets on planes...).

I ate too many peanuts, then took a taxi away from the filth and the fury of Lan Kwai Fong, back home to read Bad Machinery and get to bed.

Perhaps peanuts are a bad source for literary inspiration.

Perhaps I shouldn't drink several pints of Hoegaarden before I go to bed.

Perhaps it's time to halt before I repeat myself.

I'll slumber now, and dream of kml mapping files for tomorrow.

It's going to be like paradise, but with less enjoyable things and more accurate latitude and longitude coordinates.