The Fragrence of "The 36"
So...here i am, the day of a gig i have been waiting for for almost 3 months IAN BROWN in Glasgow. I went the thursday night, got pished and met the man himself...this was now friday, i was going again. ( I then went out on saturday too and get rubber, but that isn't part of this tale.)

I went to my mates house who i haven't seen in a good while. We get pished on cheap, dirty, "£3 for 3 Litres" Strongbow cider. I loved it. Battered down a couple of beers, and off we went for the bus.

When i drink, i piss like a camel. Well at the bus stop i had pissed 3 times and in his house prior, 2. The bus comes, its "The 36". Now all the buses i get ALWAYS....ALWAYS...without fail, either smell of sick or piss...it's an unwritten rule. Now as i am at my mates, i don't get The 36 very often. We pile on. This bus takes you EVEYRWHERE! For what is a 15minute journey, it takes the most detours you can possibly take! It takes usually an hour or summit to get into town.

So here we are, pished as a fart. My bladder tingles...I need to piss once more...

I have finished my last bottle and proceeded to launch it out the window (not a good idea when your on the top level of a double decker). So i squeeze...and i squeeze hard.

The pain was getting to the stage, where i wouldn't even talk, just nod and go "mmhmm" with viens popping out my neck.

The time has come..."fuck it" i thought, in my drunken state. I swagger the short distance to the furtherst back corner of the bus (we are already basically at the back). Whip out the scrat-end and piss my little heart out.

Pungent, Cider-infested piss collected in the corner and started to spread all over the floor as the bus twisted and jerked. The auroma could put you on yer arse. The packed bus kept their head down in disgust...and lifted their feet an inch or so off the ground, to make sure they don't get attacked by the golden syrup.

The funny thing is, i turned round to find a Ned (chav) sitting, looking striaght ahead...clearly in disgust...and i spied some yellow splashes up his "Daz - Ultra White" Lacoste trackie.

When i get reminded of this fateful day i cringe.

Hasn't stopped me from pissing in a fone-box, on a motor and EVERY time i cross Jamicia Bridge in Glasgow (and i'm pissed) i NEED to urinate into the Clyde...i think my tally is in double figures or so...
(Denny, Mon 28 Nov 2005, 23:17, closed)