I woke up at about 9am this morning. It was a very slow affair, with much groaning and feeling very, very sick. I began to think that maybe, just maybe, the whole bottle of Moscovaka Vodka had been too much. I stumbled over to the cabinet and swallowed four Ibuprofen to stifle the ache. I jumped in the shower and got dressed, all the time cursing the man who invented alcohol. Just as I was wondering if my head could hurt any more, or if i had a family of elves with heavy boots living in there, there's a knock at my door. I wasn't feeling too hot, so I took my time getting there, expecting it to be someone telling me my cat had thrown up in their garden or something. I opened the door. Oh. Hullo. Well now. I'd actually forgotten all about this... my main birthday present, four hours of Dodge Viper... I listened carefully to the brief (It's the only one in Europe. It's got a race clutch. It's 688bhp. It's fast. It's red. Don't speed), then clambered in. It was the most amazing thing ever. Everyone I passed turned and looked, the damned car sounded like Hell's Gates being thrown open and it tore down the tarmac at a terrifying rate. Finally I got it to the airfield near me to take some nice pictures: Just pulled up! Getting out, wobbly legged! Looking awesome as ever... I think it's still the most aggressive looking cars out there! I don't think I can ever think of my MG as 'sporty' ever again! Well, after that lovely bit of ego stroking, I'm off to grab a beer and relax, i'm still a bit shaky after taking that thing and unleashing it. It's not something I could do every day... I'd be dead within weeks! I just regret not having a video camera at the ready to film the whole thing. I didn't dare take my hands off the wheel to take any pictures in motion! Still, this is easily my best gift ever, even if it was only for a few hours! Best. Birthday. Ever.