Why do you get the crappy, slow-ass go-kart once you've made it into the final on pole position? Why are you most up for larging it till dawn when almost everyone else too trashed to walk, let alone get into a club? Why will no-one bet you to climb the Balfour Beattie crane on the one occasion when you're feeling stupid enough to actually do it? Why is England so crap at sports? Why do girls suddenly seem so much easier to pull when you're attached? Why did anyone think that bird with the gold pants was attractive? Why is breakfast only served between 8 and 9? Why does a chicken Madras take 15 minutes to go in, but eight hours to come out? Why was 'mad-dog' less comprehensible than any local Scot, and why was Bandy less comprehensible than any of them by the end of Saturday night? Why oh why oh WHY did I drink that last double Macallen? These and many other questions were raised but not answered during my long weekend away in Edinburgh on Edwin's stag. Good work to all those concerned.