"The weekend has landed! All that exists now is clubs, drugs, pubs and parties. I've got forty eight hours off from the world, man. I'm gonna blow steam out of my head like a screaming kettle. I'm gonna talk codshit to strangers all night. I'm gonna lose the plot on the dancefloor, the free radicals inside me are freaking man! Tonight I'm Jip Travolta, I'm Peter Popper, I'm going to Never Never Land with my chosen family, man. We're going to get more spaced out than Neil Armstrong ever did. Anything could happen tonight, you know? This could be the best night of my life! I've got seventy three quid in my backburner. I'm gonna wax the lot, man. The milky bars are on me! Yeah!"