Ladies and Gentlemen, I am in possession of a truly excessive amount of cannabis.

Woah. Have managed to get my book stamped at last! A signature from the fast-talking proprietor of Dampring from whom I got some King Hussan hash (cos I liked the name) and some weed Called Cheese because any skunk smelly enough to be compared to a rotting dairy product deserves to be in my joint.
I confidently checked my bearings and headed off. Got to the next coffeeshop, just purchased the two enties of and and moved on.
Then I went back to the first place and asked the nice gent if he'd by any chance seen someone roughly my height but chronically shitfaced leave their judges voting book on the counter. Cos if he had he was like my idiot brother and I'd give it back to him. The book was returned with record speed. Clearly some an efficient filing system for the storage of junk unintentionally discarded by stoned patrons as they hunt for a lighter only to leave their mobile phone, passport and confidential government documents on the bar.

Repeat this trick five or six times over and I'm at number 18 out of 24, starting from 24. But missing 24 cos they still haven't stamped me. I'm like this in supermarkets, enjoying driving the trolley so much that I do laps of the baked goods.
I now have to regroup and order some coffee. Lots of coffee.