The Worst Journey in the World
Aspley Cherry Garrard was the youngest member of the Scott Polar Expedition when he and two others lost their tent to the winds of a night-time snowstorm. They spent hours in temperatures below -70°F stumbling about the ice floes hoping they'd bump into it as it was their only hope of survival.
OK, so that was bad, but we reckon you've had worse. We know how hard you lot are.
( , Thu 7 Sep 2006, 12:40)
Aspley Cherry Garrard was the youngest member of the Scott Polar Expedition when he and two others lost their tent to the winds of a night-time snowstorm. They spent hours in temperatures below -70°F stumbling about the ice floes hoping they'd bump into it as it was their only hope of survival.
OK, so that was bad, but we reckon you've had worse. We know how hard you lot are.
( , Thu 7 Sep 2006, 12:40)
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Dont go to Seven Sisters
Couple of weeks back, me and a couple of mates went to a warehouse in Seven Sisters for Fuck Reading- a two day punk festival for everyone too poor or lazy to attend the real Reading festival. I brought along some of the bolivian marching powder and bought a few pills off some friendly men inside, and had a merry old time. I live in West London meself, and Seven Sisters is north east.
I can honestly say it is the worst place I have been in a long long time. Look up the definition of Ghetto, and youll find a picture of the place. The residents go to Calcutta to get some relief from crime; or they would if they could afford it.
Anyhow, I boarded the night bus at 5 in the morning on the worst comedown of my life, praying for rest.
Then I hear shouting from the bottom deck; then some more shouting; then the fucking bus door gets kicked in, shatters all over the place. Turns out some twat had been trying to rob about 50p from the bit where you put your money down for a ticket, driver told him to fuck off, he took offense and kicked in the door, before legging it down the road.
Cue waiting in Finsbury park for another bus, then got another, then another, then finally got home 2 and a half hours after I had left the gig, feeling wretched and praying for respite.
Theres nothing quite like that feeling standing at bus stop as the sun starts coming up, freezing your bollocks off and watching normal people going to work.
First post by the way
Be gentle
( , Thu 7 Sep 2006, 21:07, Reply)
Couple of weeks back, me and a couple of mates went to a warehouse in Seven Sisters for Fuck Reading- a two day punk festival for everyone too poor or lazy to attend the real Reading festival. I brought along some of the bolivian marching powder and bought a few pills off some friendly men inside, and had a merry old time. I live in West London meself, and Seven Sisters is north east.
I can honestly say it is the worst place I have been in a long long time. Look up the definition of Ghetto, and youll find a picture of the place. The residents go to Calcutta to get some relief from crime; or they would if they could afford it.
Anyhow, I boarded the night bus at 5 in the morning on the worst comedown of my life, praying for rest.
Then I hear shouting from the bottom deck; then some more shouting; then the fucking bus door gets kicked in, shatters all over the place. Turns out some twat had been trying to rob about 50p from the bit where you put your money down for a ticket, driver told him to fuck off, he took offense and kicked in the door, before legging it down the road.
Cue waiting in Finsbury park for another bus, then got another, then another, then finally got home 2 and a half hours after I had left the gig, feeling wretched and praying for respite.
Theres nothing quite like that feeling standing at bus stop as the sun starts coming up, freezing your bollocks off and watching normal people going to work.
First post by the way
Be gentle
( , Thu 7 Sep 2006, 21:07, Reply)
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