Take a sad song and make it better
Well, as some people already know last night got a little messy but very entertaining. You can really blame the godforsaken performance by England's starting XI for the most of it. Quite what they were doing, I don't know. England 1, Australia 3? That's not right! Football was the one sport we had left in which the Australians couldn't humiliate us. This is all wrong! :(

I've seen and heard some criticism of Sven's policy of substituting everyone at halftime, but that's really missing the point and putting the blame for the defeat on the youngsters. The new generation showed much more spirit and style than the starters, and I think a few of that first choice line-up took a great step towards the international wilderness, David James, Frank Lampard and James Beattie in particular. James and Lampard should never have been there, while Beattie looks much like another Kevin Phillips. Unfortunately little Mikey Owen is in such poor form at the moment and Kieron Dyer, while in great shape for the Toon, showed once again that he's wasted on the left wing.

What made it worse was the fact that we were watching the whole shower in Little Oz, as the Bayswater area of London has become. The banter between Oz and Pom was very good natured, but now the smug bastards have the whole lot.

So feeling the need to drown our sorrows, we decided to carry on drinking after the end of the match. Devoid of any other ideas, Joe's suggestion of a late-night bar run by one of the local backpackers' hostels was decided on as the venue for the rest of the night.

It's one of the worst places I've ever had to drink.

But we were determined to make the best of it, and Thomsk and his new mate Nathan decided the bar's karaoke machine was the way forward. Nathan's moving rendition of Don't Let the Sun go down on me was the tip of a very unnerving iceberg. The pair of them hogged the mic - and the young travellers just couldn't get enough. Their repertoire over the next couple of hours drew in such diverse influences as Oasis, Gorillaz and Otis Redding, and yours truly doing Stuck in the Middle (albeit the backing track being Louise's inferior version).

Of course every gig needs a rousing finale, an old favourite singalong for the punters, and nothing fits the bill quite like "Hey Jude". Those young things from across the globe never knew what hit them. We pumped them up and rocked their world. Closing time came and went, the karaoke machine was switched off, and still the knapsack of travellers (collective noun) were singing "Na na na nanana naaaaa, nanana naaaaa, Hey Jude", a good ten minutes after we'd finished the song. It was beautiful!

To make things even better, Thomas and Nathan were judged to have won the night's karaoke competition and given the grand prize of... a day trip around the historic sites of the west of England, taking in Bath, Oxford and Stonehenge. There must be several dozen hung over and bitter Antipodean backpackers out there today, cursing the pair of local chancers who wooed their rightful laurels away from them.

Dreadful, overpriced drinks, awful clientele, disgusting decor, and deeply tacky music... I dare say we'll be going there again.