"When I shave my pubes I have to shave my legs because I'm not sure where the hair ends." - Nicholas Coren

Happy birthday James. We love you long time...

James has made it to his 26th birthday, and for rest of us, it was just another day on Route 66. It was also our last leg of the road before arriving in Los Angeles. Breakfast at Denny's was as fulfilling as any other time; however, this time James received a scoop of ice cream to celebrate his birthday. We ended our breakfast with a shot of syrup, earning LAD points in the process.

On our way to Barstow we made our way through some popular rundown towns including Essex and Bagdad (including a stop at the Amboy Crater) before moving on. We made an interesting stop at a tree on our route, where travellers can hang pairs of shoes from branches - unfortunately, the tree had died and fallen. That didn't stop us taking a few pictures and shop for some new shoes! With temperatures hitting highs of 106 degrees, we cranked the air conditioning up high and enjoyed our lengthy drive down The National Old Trails Highway towards the west coast of California.

Driving through the Californian desert, we headed for San Bernardino, which was the last hurdle we needed to jump before hitting Los Angeles. In a sentence, Los Angeles f**ked us up royally; we had achieved our daily target in miles, and Los Angeles threw a spanner in the works. After driving through the city for two hours, we decided to call it a day and find a motel, leaving the Hollywood sign and Muscle Beach until tomorrow. After a umber of attempts, we finally found a motel that was willing to have us for the night. We changed into fresh clothes and headed for our evening location... Hooters!

Upon arrival, we were game for an enjoyable evening to celebrate James' birthday. We all agreed that a LAD point would go to whoever the waitress considered the best looking... in this case, the point goes to James. Well done. Just like everything in America, portion sizes were huge, and that goes for the half pint jäger bombs. After much banter, a lot of laughs and a $250 bill, we headed across the road to a British pub - ironically, we were the only British people within the facilities.
Making last orders, we started chatting to a few people, which led to us learning the following things: Cricket and Baseball are not real sports; American Football should be called Grid Iron; the World Series is actually named after a newspaper called The World; and playing Golf is a good way to ruin a good walk.

With that in mind, we took a cab home and crashed out. We'll complete our journey tomorrow and squeeze in a trip to the mall to do some retail therapy.

Other man points up for grabs currently:

1. Find someone with the same name as you.
2. First person to spot a celebrity.

The morning after...

Eurgh!