what are your hobbies besides music

************Commercial Break********

Pop

SSSHHHFPPP

clink

SSSSLLLUUURRPPPP

AAAAHHHHH!!!

BBBUURURRPPP!!!!

Camera pans from the condensation puddle on the mahogany bar and focuses on a balding middle aged nerdish deviant with a weathered, sweat stained Tormato Tour t-shirt. The voice emanates forth from a gap toothed cavernous maw causing the small green booger on the tip of his left nostril to vibrate.  "Boddington's, the prog reviewers beer of choice." A putride smile creeps across the tobacco stained teeth as the camera pans back to the bar and focuses on the half empty bottle. Background sound of a loogy being hawked upon the barroom floor.....   

Well my primary hobbies are : 1. Music 2. Cars 3. Fantasy Fiction (tolkien , salvatore, etc) 4.RPGs (role playing games) 5. i'm planning to add Traveling when i get my own car  6. decoration of living rooms

Concerning Ouzo young ppl drink it mixed with Coca Cola or with any sort of juice (orange and lemon being at the top selections) when they go out to a bar or a club! When we have launch and have fish as the major plate we mix it with water and/or ice ! You should really try Raki , Tsipouro and Tsikoudia ! they rock too.

No sooner had Garten nodded off, however, than the boozey DUDE Mark IV came crashing through his bedroom wall. "Don't you know that it's dangerous to SMOKE IN BED?" screamed the alcohol-addled Aussie automaton, before agent Garten jumped up and grappled with him, knocking the metal-manthing through the open bedroom door, and "arse-over kettle" down the stairs. A satisfying sproing-ing sound, like that of a large leaping marsupial, told Jim that the "Austrailian avenger" was out of commission, at least for now. "What ho, pip pip, that was easy," mused the unflappable, stiff-upper-lipped -- but stale Woodbines smelling -- Englishman. "Lucky for me it was Australian built, and thus forced to walk on its hands here in the northern hemisphere. Most unstable..... Bloody 'ell, me bleedin' bed's on fire again!"

Meanwhile, the grim-faced RIDEOUT 2001, armed to the teeth with a mind-boggling array of sophisticated and deadly weaponry (plus clam juicer, glass rimmer, and ice dispenser; but lacking a basic geography chip, and having therefore been earlier thwarted by a mysterious, large salty body of water in its aim to drive to Garten's corrupt, tea-and-crumpet-soaked island home), was experiencing yet another setback, in the guise of a burly security guard at Toronto's Pearson International Airport: "Sir, I repeat: Do you have anything metal on your person?" "Infernal carbon-based peon, my entire perfect and lethal body is made of metal!" the miffed man-machine replied, before ripping the luckless guard's head from his shoulders. "I'm never flying British Airways again" fumed the revenge-bent robot later, as, still seething, he tore into his complimentary in-flight peanuts. "I'm sure I asked for a window seat, the beer is flat, twiggy, laughably weak, and as warm as moose urine, and there's no Kraftwerk on any of the music channels!"

Thinks were looking decidedly "rum" for Garten, who slept on, blissfully unaware of the looming danger looming ever loomier in the gloomy, polluted Dickensian-grey skies above his wretched, tottering island. "Perfect," reflected the robot with smug superiority, "they're already in bed over here! No wonder they lost their puny empire!"  

 Storm: I been known to take the odd shot of bourbon as a warm-up for an evening's ale, but associate many dim, but nevertheless BAD, memories with the prolonged consumption if liquor. Ow! (As opposed to booze, beer lets me maintain a semblance of control.)

When I really want to hurt my head the next morning, I turn to a large bottle of strong Belgian bottle-conditioned beer (6 -10%!) Chimay is a particularly favoured "weapon." 

You gentlemen are obviously suffering from a lack of consumption of 12 year old single malt Kentucky corn liquor.

Don't report back until you've given yourselves appropriate medicinal dosages.