Pavel certainly enjoyed himself last night. How he managed to get home - zig-zgging his bike across the road, with no lights and wearing a sombrero - I have no idea. He even had to ring the bell when he got home, because somehow he'd bent his key (and I had to go and retrieve it from the lock outside, where he'd left it)
It was around 11:30 and he was so drunk he was barely able to stand and kept shouting at us. He stopped only briefly to get some more beer, tell us how nice it was to be with all the girls, and shout at some other people, before going out again.
Thankfully he was back fairly soon, so we nudged him to bed with a glass of water. He didn't emerge properly until almost 2pm today! Here are some of the less incriminating photos we salvaged from his camera:
There was quite a lot of that blue body paint on him. The two 'smurf' girls are our other flatmate's history students!