How to impress a small boy.
When my fifth birthday rolled around, we were living in Hong Kong. I don't know to this day how Mum and Dad managed it, but my birthday dinner was in the Mandarin Hotel www.mandarinoriental.com/hongkong/.

We had a table right on the edge of the floor, but that early in the evening the place was nearly deserted. I got to see a full-on Chinese Circus, had a ham sandwich presented on a silver salver by the maître d', had my orange squash topped up by what I now know was the sommelier, and to top the whole evening off was taken by taxi all the way round the harbour to see the lights (which even in the mid-sixties knocked Blackpool into a cocked hat).

Fuck know how it was done on Dad's RAF salary.
(all my scars face forward possesses 2.5% of a hyperalloy combat chassis, Sun 31 Jul 2011, 11:58, 3 replies)

How did he do it on his salary?
Where'd your sister go after that?
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Sun 31 Jul 2011, 13:38, closed)

Perhaps your mind blanked out the stops while driving around the harbour.

( @><|= w0nu!) or cunt to my friends, Sun 31 Jul 2011, 23:11, closed)

So your story is my parents took me out for a chinese
_{only joking, I enjoyed that. Have a click.}
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Mon 1 Aug 2011, 9:37, closed)