well, my extremlyclever title, is actualy an amalgumation of lost and holiday.
its strange and almost ridiculous how obsessed with lost i actually am
basically, i went on holiday for the past week, to a little island in the Outer Hebridess in Scotland called Barra.
on the first day, my girlfriends father, told me of a rock, that had only twice ever been climbed unguided by ropes. needless to say, i was determined to climb this rock.
when i got there it was a horrendously large rock about twenty to twwenty five feet high.
i was beginning to find my path up the brute, when in the corner of my eye, i saw a huge Black horse. just like the one we see in lost. im told shorlty after this that it is a famous horse of barra from a long line of horses owned by the family of Compton Mackenzie. Seeing this horse, and with Lost in my mind i began to make my way up the rock. i failed, in fact, i jumped off slipped in some sheep faeces, and hurt my coxis, tail between my legs we climbed down the mountain.
that is all for now. there isnt anymore.