It's 5:33am.

And due to the heat I can't sleep. So, instead of staring at the back of my eyelids hoping for sleep to come I'm sitting here typing. Exactly what I'm going to end up typing about isn't clear at the moment so I'll just plug on and see where we end up.

It's a strange situation sitting here typing and not knowing where the destination is. I'm fucked if I even know where the departure point is but that's not the point really. Some of the best journeys in my life have started with no idea of the destination. This makes for a lot of uncertainty, for sure.

But it also makes for a lot of fun.

One such weekend of mayhem and madness started inconspicuously enough with a few drinks...

A friend of mine named Ian, who was as keen on vodka as I was on scotch, and I stumbled out of work and headed for the watering hole of choice. Within half an hour we had went from singles to doubles and were headed in the general direction of triples with very little mixer.

An hour and a half later and the boozer had been cast aside like a bad betting slip and we had sojourned to the off license to grab a couple of bottles. A liter of cheap vodka and a liter of rotgut scotch was bought and we wandered along the road to find a park bench to polish them off.

After this point things got a bit hazy. All I know was that I woke up three days later in Glasgow Central Station with no money and a head that felt like It'd been used as a football in the local derby. Ian was nowhere to be seen. I searched the station concourse but to no avail. I was all on my own forty-five miles away from home with less money than a crack whore.

Getting back to Edinburgh was something of a challenge. I hopped on the first train out of Glasgow and shut myself in the toilet. Everytime a ticket collector knocked on the door I yelled about not being able to take a shit in peace and I was left alone long enough to make it to the first stop in Edinburgh.

I found Ian a day later at his place. He told me that there had been something of an argument between his girlfriend and I and I'd stormed out of his place. All the while I was yelling at his girlfriend that she was a tight bitch because she wasn't up for a two-up fucking session with Ian and I.

So it goes. Sometimes when a journey starts you don't know the destination. Or where it'll all end up.