Hot Damn, Summer In The City

Vodkaberg is a surprisingly green city; in addition to plenty of parks, trees and bushes kind of just grow unchecked in the courtyards of apartments, median strips between roads, alleys, etc.

So of course that gives a guy plenty of places to pee, after long days of drinking beer on the embankment.

Even a couple of times, after the cheap beer and even cheaper barbecued meats . . . . I've had to make number two in the bushes. Foo, as we say here in Russia. It's a twenty-five minute walk from the embankment to my house, and often I have to make it at the end of a long drinking session.

Again, that's just hardly the kind of thing James Bond would do, is it?

That's my idea of an interesting James Bond film though -- show the bad guy managing to destroy a major city because Bond is too ill from jet-lag and traveler's diarrhea to stop him.


James Bond, running like hell for the toilet and wishing there were some trees around