Horsey
I thought i was being really clever, by finding a small area of FInsbury Park during a free festival to knock up a quick Jazz Woodbine. There i was, obliviously beavering away (i think the opium joint my mate had passed me outside Finsbury Park Tube didn't help matters ;-). The area i chose was behind a massive wall.

I heard rather stern "What do you think you are doing?"
I look up, and see a massive horse face looking back down. Fortunately this was before McCartneys one-legged fun-sack or i may have thought i had accidently spent the night with her.

Anyway, the horse was not a figment of any nightmare - it was a police horse. Once i had reconciled the voice with the little blue man on the horses back, it started to make some sense.

Off i tootled, oblivious until i saw my friends in the bushes pissing themselves laughing. Lucky this copper couldn't be arsed to deal with a spanked little whiteboy and didn't even get off his horse to show his disdain.

Close that one. Good job i wasn't in the middle of a worldwide renowned city with Police willing to beat dissidents and beatniks to within and inch of their.......oh wait a minute....
( bazza van der trance , ooh baby baby, baby baby. Get up on this., Wed 10 Jun 2009, 16:44, Reply)