Russia 1.
Ireland 0.
It was a
cakewalk really. It was a no contest. I left last night's soiree not too long
after the convergence and I was home before 1.00 am. I did however do a follow
up of the evening's events and the Russian's were victorious.
Clearly.
Absolutely.
Unconditionally.
I tried to
rouse some of the Irish before noon this morning. None of them were answering
their phones but I eventually got onto one late this afternoon. His voice was
weak and trembling. He was audibly shaken and he muttered "those fookin Ruskis" a number of times. The Russians on
the other hand were texting me from 9.00am. They were still out and were taking
breakfast. They had switched from vodka to black coffee but they were mocking
the Irish and their lack of stamina on the drinking front. On all fronts
really.
They were not
impressed.
The Russian's
took up the drinking challenge last night at the convergence with their normal
no-fuss nonchalance. The Irish daringly switched from their preferred swill of
Guinness to the Russian vodka and it was a knock out blow.
Literally.
The
Soviet-Gaelic collective moved on to the Marina Bay Sands not long after I left
the group. I departed from the Post Bar in the Fullarton Hotel as they moved to
the Dom nightclub in the Sands. The Dom night club is owned by the Russians and
I suspect that it is also operated by the Russian mafia - perhaps in
conjunction with the Singaporean mafia. Both are forces to be reckoned with. I
have been to the Dom once before.
Once was
enough.
It was very
loud.
It was very
gregarious.
I shall never
set foot in the place again.
Anyway,
I won't go into the details. The Russians are still standing – they are dancing
actually. A number of the Irish remain missing in action. I will try and track
them down tomorrow and I will serve it up to them.
To
be sure. To be sure.
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