Number One: Wash your passport
Um... bollocks.
In my defence it was all Ian McShane's (Lovejoy's) fault. You see, what happened is that I got back to my hotel room at about 9:50 last night and realised I didn't have any clean clothes for the morning. At the same time I also remembered that Deadwood, featuring the aforementioned McShane started at 10 o'clock. So I jumped in my rental car, dashed to the petrol station to buy some detergent, rushed back to my hotel room, gathered my dirty clothes (including the pair of shorts I was wearing) and threw them all in the washing machine. I got back to my room at just gone ten and turned on the TV, only to discover that it was Tuesday not Wednesday, so instead of Deadwood HBO was showing Scooby-fucking-Doo.
It was only this morning when I felt the back pocket of my other pair of shorts that I realised I'd washed my passport. I pulled the still somewhat soggy, it had had 45 minutes in the tumble dryer last night, document from my shorts and tired my best to resuscitate it with the hair dryer (in the process killing the hair dryer). So now I have a clean smelling passport, missing some of its integrity, and I'm wondering, "What the bugger do I do now?"
Bugger.
Bollocks.
Bloody passport and visa hell...
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