Move any mountain (of shit)
The pet tramp in my old town was called Seth. One night a load of folk were going up to see The Shamen at the Barra's in Glasgow....

Seth is in the train station, marinading in his own pish and probably someone else's shit. They strike up some witty banter with the confused old soak and together they come to an agreement that Seth should in fact come and see The Shamen as well.

They get to Glasgow despite him not having a ticket, then on reaching the Barra's they produce their shiny tickets and in they go...but not before chipping in and procuring a shiny ticket for Seth as well.

I can only imagine the spectacle that unfolded as the saucer eyed, acid house rave zombies experienced the walking shitstorm that was Seth grooving and popping along with the best of them
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 2 Jul 2009, 16:30, Reply)