» I met a weirdo on the interweb

Big gay bear
It was the summer of 2001 and I was on the look out for some new kicks. I happened to stumble across a particular football newsgroup. "This looks like my sort of thing," I thought. After lurking for a week or two I realised that it was more of my sort of thing than I could have previously imagined. The people were amusing and knowledgeable. I quickly settled in and became part of the furniture.

Fast forward a year to the summer of 2002. There's an England match coming up. "Why not have a meet-up?" I suggest. And so, a couple of weeks later, four of us meet in a pub. Apart from myself there's the matriarch of the group Jenny, paedophile lookalike Bob and Dave who looks suspiciously like Roy Kinnear but claims to only be 31 years old. We all got on well enough with the football being on helping to provide conversation. We all went our separate ways at the end of the night and while we didn't promise to do it again any time soon there was no aversion to doing so either.

Fast forward another year. It's the summer of 2003. This time Dave posts to the group suggesting a get together to watch the Division 3 Play-Off Final. Four of us say that we'll go: Dave of course, myself, Bob and a guy that doesn't post that regularly, Martin Hall. I arrived at the pub to find Dave and Martin already there. Dave looked scared. And for good reason as Martin was a freak. An absolute fucking freak. The sort that your mother warns you about in fact. Martin had a video camera with him. For fuck's sake, who takes a video camera to a pub? Martin proceeded to video Dave and me while we did entertaining things like go to the bar, drink some beer and have a conversation. I wonder if he's showed this video to his family. If so, I pity the Halls.

After what seemed like a lifetime Bob turned up. Now Bob is slightly odd. He is quite happy to tell one and all about his genital piercings and strange lifestyle decisions. But Bob can function in society. Which is good obviously. And Bob's functioning was in marked contrast to Martin's failure to partake in normal conversation. For some reason Martin thought it perfectly acceptable to get out a portfolio of pictures of his east European girlfriend in her scanties. No rhyme nor reason behind this at all. Just all of a sudden, there's pictures of someone I don't know, wearing only the briefest of briefs, being waved in front of my face. Now, of course, I'm no prude and not averse to seeing female flesh but the fact that it was Martin showing it scared me. And I was glad that I had Bob and Dave, who are both quite large chaps, there to protect me if Martin's demented lunacy should turn nasty.

The whole girlfriend thing was rather odd as well. Martin is camp. Not in a "I'm heterosexual and in touch with my feminine side" way. Oh god no. More in a "I'm a big gay bear. Please put your penis in my bum," sort of way. Nowt wrong with that of course. It's just that he was trying so hard to be one of the lads and it seemed so horribly false. In the end Bob, Dave and I made our excuses and left. Separately. Only to meet up at a pub across the street.

Apologies for length etc. First post - be gentle with me...
(Sun 19th Mar 2006, 12:03, More)

» Crap meals out

The evil twin
In north London there is a chain of pizza place called La Porchetta. The food there is fantastic quiality, very reasonably priced and the portions are huge. I have eaten at their restaurants in Islington, Finsbury Park and Chancery Lane and have had a fantastic meal each time.

However, there is the one that got away. Apparently two of the co-owners had an argument some years ago that led to the Muswell Hill restaurant breaking away from the rest. Since then, while my meals at other branches have only ever been pleasurable I've had two god awful experiences at the break away - both partially thanks to the harridan of a manageress.

First time my girlfriend got given a seafood dish with loads of bits of small sharp bits of shell in. "What do you expect?" the manageress said. "Shellfish has shells."

Second time we popped in with my girlfriend's sister and husband. All four pizzas came back with the crusts burnt to a crisp. Apparently we couldn't get them recooked as "The crusts aren't part of the pizza."

So, beware all you north Londoners. La Porchetta Muswell Hill may look like the others. It may even have the same menu. But no, it is in disguise.
(Fri 28th Apr 2006, 8:09, More)