Scary Samaritans
Reminded by the Dukes post below.

Around 1999ish I was off to the drag racing with a group of mates, preceded of course, by a night on the lash in Northampton. A nice night of drunken revelry and failed attempts at pulling was being had by our team of 6 or 8 chaps after a long week at work and (what felt like) an even longer drive down from Newcastle.

Between establishments we happened across a young fellow who was rather the worse for wear. He'd exceeded his ability to stand up, let alone walk and was quite literally crawling along the gutter. His presence was relayed among the group and we strode purposefully over to give the poor sap a little assistance toward a taxi home or the authorities, depending on further judgement of his capacities.

Perhaps it was anatomic effects of his over-indulgence and introspective rhetoric, maybe it was a skunk-like defensive reflex. It seemed though to be directed at our group as he begged "Please, no. I haven't done anything. Please please don't" while clearly to ear eye and nose, simultaneously urinating and defecating within his trousers.

All physical contact being instantly ruled out by that, a couple of lads went off to find some uniformed assistance while the rest of us gave the sorry mess of a kid a couple of smokes and stayed as close by as we could bear to prevent him wandering off into further mishap.

So if you're monged in the street and being a danger to yourself, and every passer by seems to be a heartless cunt who laughs but ignores you, don't automatically assume that the half-dozen beefy shaven-headed Geordie blokes stomping toward you are going to kick you to fuck.

(If your local football team is hosting a Newcastle United away game though, it may be safer to)
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Tue 14 Feb 2012, 18:22, Reply)