Wednesday, 22 June 2016
Tuesday, 1 December 2015
Saturday, 19 February 2011
After playing with several Gypsy/carpark/well-known-cartoon-character-with-explicit drug-reference combinations I figured this illustratory* route would leave me less on the road to future legal action.
On the other hand the consumption of the kind of beer you only get in gold & black cans on public transport slightly appeals to me but purely for the fact of pissing Boris Johnson off. Me? Childish? You bet!
(I'll shut up, you can read the article here)
(Article by Michael Holden)
Having failed to visibly outrage anyone by drinking lager on the tube, the four young men sat opposite me seemed anxious to raise the stakes by talking openly about cannabis. First, though, they had a more immediate problem – one born of their initial transgression.
Man 1 (distressed) "I need a piss."
Man 2 "This isn't our stop!"
Man 1 (leaving the carriage) "I can't hold on. I'll meet you there."
Man 2 "What's up with him? He's only had, like, one pint."
Man 3 (looking at his can of lager) "I swam through my brother's sick on holiday. I thought it was coral at first – it was all in my goggles and shit. This was on the Great Barrier Reef. It's a sick country, Australia."
Man 4 "Fuck Australia!"
Man 2 (holding a bit of paper) "Make the roach nice, that was one of the first things I learned about smoking."
Man 4 "What's that?"
Man 2 (rolling it up) "It's my bus ticket, keep the white bit on the outside, you have to twist it. That way you get feedback."
Man 3 "Back in the day I used to think I was the don. I used to get bare stoned and just watch The Simpsons. Nobody knew. I was 13."
There was no reaction to this, so he upped the ante.
Man 3 "That was before I got expelled."
Man 4 "Do you wanna get off and fight?"
Man 3 "I fight Gypsies in car parks – like on that show."
Man 4 "Downgrade your status!"
With that they were off, checking as they went to see if anyone had noticed them.
Saturday, 5 December 2009
(Article by Michael Holden)
I could see the man at the next table was having a hard time from the way he held his drinks-for dear life, it seemed. He stared into the middle distance with an air of furious sorrow and swallowed beer in great mouthfuls, around a third of a pint each time. At the end of his second something like relief came to his face and then he was joined by a friend who bought another drink to his table.
Man 1 (upbeat) “How are we.”
Man 2 (morose) “In fucking bits.”
Man 1 “You haven't slept at all?”
He shook his head
Man 1 “I don't know how you get away with it.”
Man 2 “I don't though, do I? That's why I'm in here.”
Man1 “It could be worse.”
Man 2 “How? How feasibly could it be worse?”
Man 1 “Look, if I’d known you were gonna do the whole self pity thing I wouldn’t have come.”
Man 2 “No, I’m sorry. I do appreciate it. Or I will do when I get myself together.”
Man 1 “Well be sure and give me a ring when that happens.”
Man 2 (finishing his pint) “I’m feeling better already.”
Man 1 “Good, well, one step at a time eh?”
Man 2 “Yeah.”
Then he got up and walked to the toilet and was sick so loudly you could hear him through the door and over the jukebox, which was playing Christmas tunes.