Feeling bored? Time to kill? Winding down on a Friday? Send another post!

Well, alright then. I guess I should only post once a day at a maximum, but I'm feeling a bit garrulous this afternoon, and as a typical obsessive-compulsive I like to keep my posts nicely compartmentalised. And what's more, I came across another set of party photos when rummaging through my files last night that reinforce my own personal impression that life in Mitteleuropa in the 1990s really was a bit of a doddle and a total stress and responsibility-free zone (give or take the odd alcohol-induced bout of psychosis following 72-hour benders in Opava).

After commiserating with myself the other day over my apparent lack of photos of our Canadian colleagues, I was heartened to stumble across this pic from June 1999 taken in Jarda's back garden. Here we have Rob in full beer-flow while Dirty Dog Rotten laughs at all the jokes in the hope of receiving some alms to shore up the brain-ooze precipitated by the previous evening's festivities. We trust Rob isn't relating the story of the not-so-slow dance with Shena in 'S' Klub.