Some ideas were hilariously megalomanic: for example the one to "conquer" Peter Pavlovskii Krepost' with anarchist flags -Peter Pavlovskii is pretty much the St. Pete equivalent of the Tower of London, if you get the idea.
Another splendid idea was as follows: There'd have been eight people in suits and ties with the 8 presidents' masks handing out portions of vegetable caviar (which by colour and consistency comes pretty close to those of squashy, semi-solid diorrhea) to a handful of us others. At first we would have been submissively spooning up their shit - like much of the world is doing right now. Then the situation would have turned and we would have covered our ad hoc representatives of the great leaders in a volley of hurled excrement - as we can only hope will somehow happen in real life.
We had the banners "G8 - We're eating your shit" and everything else prepared, but then -not going into the details- it all went tits up for bad communication. Shame Shame Shame.
On the whole, the amounts of vodka consumed on a daily basis were barbarous. People's hands were shaking before the first few drinks in the afternoon time. The meaning of the word "hangover" became so global as to blend with the word "sober" and both words' meanings became hollow... : by the end I had to drink just to start feeling a little sober. One of the last nights I drank 6 or 7 shots of vodka, didn't feel drunk and instead went to sleep on the couch with the Oi playing loudly and everyone else continuing the evening. I woke up at around 4 to sit with my good friend Insomnia just when the music had been switched off and everyone else had started snoring away.
One guy from my circle of friends disappeared for a few days, everyone was worried, then we found out that he had got arrested for public drunkenness. Not even for an action, for god's sake.
And, by the way: As you see, no one got shot.
All the paranoia for nothing.
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