Won't bore you with the intro...
...but we pick up the story where four people are sitting at a table outside a pub in my hometown. Money and drugs have just changed hands, when all of a sudden there are shitloads of coppers swarming around, and a very firm "keep your hands where we can see them lads".

End up back at the local nick wondering how i'm going to get away with the 1/2 ounce of soap bar and three eccies in my pocket. Signed in etc, then off for a strip search with two coppers. Fun. Not.

Copper #1 says "right empty your pockets". I pull out the soap bar, chuck it on the bench in the cell with a cheery "well you might as well have this then". Both coppers look at it, giving me the chance to neck the three pills, still wrapped in clingfilm, before looking back to me and continuing the search, where they find... nothing.

So I get ushered into a cell, and via a near-death experience over the next hour or two, then subsequently manage to piss off the duty cops by pushing the cell buzzer every five minutes for either a glass of water or to be let out for a smoke.

Then it was my turn to be interviewed, by which time i'd made up a rubbish story so as not to dob my mate in. In my mind I thought it went brilliantly. Listened to my copy of the tape a few days later, and I have no idea what the hell I was talking about.

Anyways, get let out and go home, sit there gurning for about 12 hours, then get in my car and go on the holiday i'd purchased things for. Spent my comedown in the biggest fucking traffic jam on the A34...

Length? Not for about three days after...
(squirrelysquirrel, Fri 6 May 2011, 7:24, Reply)