There are three rules that I live by:
1. Never get less than 12 hours sleep.
2. Never get involved with a woman who has a tattoo of a dagger on her body.
3. Never play cards with a guy who has the same first name as a city.
In light of this, getting into Philadelphia was cream cheese..
It was well over 80 degrees in Philly and getting hotter. We congratulated Sooze on so cleverly negotiating New York and for putting in a marathon stint at the wheel. As a reward, we took some time out to enjoy the city and its beautiful sights.
Naturally, we couldn't leave the City of Brotherly Love without Dale and I getting our Rocky on and running up the steps outside the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Judging by the amount of Stallone fans punching the air, I don't think we were the first, or the last. We considered racing each other on the beach and cavorting in the waves, but Dale wanted to be Ivan Drago, not Apollo Creed - and it was simply too warm for the Russian training sequence.
On leaving Philadelphia, it was my turn to get behind the wheel. I'm happy to report that I am typing this whilst still alive. Out of the four of us, Dale is the only one who is not allowed to drive, because he is under 25. Apparently, the only exception is for the military. I explained to the guy at Hertz that Dale was a soldier sent back from the future to protect me from a cyborg killing machine. They didn't buy it.
We're currently holed up in a hotel outside of Baltimore in Maryland. We're 2/2 on the fast, free wi-fi connections. UK take note! Heading out to dinner for some 'hog's hammers' and Philly cheesesteaks.
ps: I just got asked if I wanted my beer in 16 or 22? Can anyone help? Someone call The Equalizer! I think they're measuring their beer in ounces!
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