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- a member for 15 years, 8 months and 11 days
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» Rubbish Towns
Cheltenham
A friend was moving there, so it was agreed that I'd hire a van and drive him and his partner down overnight. Found his new flat (eventually), had a snooze and them went out to see what entertainment was on offer.
First pub on the right, seems ok. Andy asked the barmaid what people did for entertainment. "Oooh, not a lot round here." Bright smile "We get a lot off fights, though." We take our drinks and sit down. Taking the piss out of the Scots, we reckoned. Turned over a beermat. It's sticky. That'll be the blood between it and the table... "Fuck me," says Andy, "she wasn't joking."
Oooookaaaay, let's finish our drinks (quickly) and move towards civilisation. Ah, this looks better, nice shiny glass and mirrors place. I wander up to the bar and order some drinks." A huge young black guy in a suit overhears me speaking, towers over me (I'm 6 foot 2, so that's a lot of towering) and in a voice that has my sphincter loosening (and not in a good way) demands "Where you from, man?"
"Err, Edinburgh." I say, getting my mental running shoes on. "Edinburgh? That's a fucking great place man."
(Mon 2nd Nov 2009, 15:25, More)
Cheltenham
A friend was moving there, so it was agreed that I'd hire a van and drive him and his partner down overnight. Found his new flat (eventually), had a snooze and them went out to see what entertainment was on offer.
First pub on the right, seems ok. Andy asked the barmaid what people did for entertainment. "Oooh, not a lot round here." Bright smile "We get a lot off fights, though." We take our drinks and sit down. Taking the piss out of the Scots, we reckoned. Turned over a beermat. It's sticky. That'll be the blood between it and the table... "Fuck me," says Andy, "she wasn't joking."
Oooookaaaay, let's finish our drinks (quickly) and move towards civilisation. Ah, this looks better, nice shiny glass and mirrors place. I wander up to the bar and order some drinks." A huge young black guy in a suit overhears me speaking, towers over me (I'm 6 foot 2, so that's a lot of towering) and in a voice that has my sphincter loosening (and not in a good way) demands "Where you from, man?"
"Err, Edinburgh." I say, getting my mental running shoes on. "Edinburgh? That's a fucking great place man."
(Mon 2nd Nov 2009, 15:25, More)
» Rubbish Towns
Stornoway
Oh dearie me. The Western Isles, staunchly Protestant and bible adhereing. I went there once to install a network. Got to my B&B, had a cup of tea and asked the landlady where I might get something to eat.
"Well, there's Mrs. McGlinchie's Tea Shop in town. Just past THE DEVIL HOTEL!!!"
Devil hotel, eh? That sounds like the very dab. So I head off to "Mrs. McGlinchie's". But I got seduced by THE DEVIL HOTEL LOUNGE BAR. I've been in some dives in my time, but this was one of the most dispiriting "lounge" bars I've ever been in. Dimly lit, no windows, the only sign of humour coming from the Sky TV at one side, showing "Fox's Grimmest Funerals." Sticky carpet. But, a drink's a drink, I've got a per diem and the B&B is cheap, leaving the balance for lager and Marlboro. Several beers later, I notice something really odd. Most pubs, behind the bar, there's crisps and nuts. This place had the largest selection of mints, toothpaste and breath fresheners I'd seen since I worked in the stockroom at Boots. By now it's 9ish, so I decide to go and get a meal. Everything was shut. Everything. The Happy Fun Time Chinese shut at 5pm weekdays, 6pm Saturday, closed all day Sunday. Everything was shut. So, I trudged back to the B&B with a consolation pack of Fox' Glacier Mints, to be met by my landlady, who had stayed up well past her normal bed-time of 8pm to offer me a scone, a cup of tea and a really filthy look at the Spawn of Satan who'd come to stay under her roof.
Happy day, happy day...
(Fri 30th Oct 2009, 10:38, More)
Stornoway
Oh dearie me. The Western Isles, staunchly Protestant and bible adhereing. I went there once to install a network. Got to my B&B, had a cup of tea and asked the landlady where I might get something to eat.
"Well, there's Mrs. McGlinchie's Tea Shop in town. Just past THE DEVIL HOTEL!!!"
Devil hotel, eh? That sounds like the very dab. So I head off to "Mrs. McGlinchie's". But I got seduced by THE DEVIL HOTEL LOUNGE BAR. I've been in some dives in my time, but this was one of the most dispiriting "lounge" bars I've ever been in. Dimly lit, no windows, the only sign of humour coming from the Sky TV at one side, showing "Fox's Grimmest Funerals." Sticky carpet. But, a drink's a drink, I've got a per diem and the B&B is cheap, leaving the balance for lager and Marlboro. Several beers later, I notice something really odd. Most pubs, behind the bar, there's crisps and nuts. This place had the largest selection of mints, toothpaste and breath fresheners I'd seen since I worked in the stockroom at Boots. By now it's 9ish, so I decide to go and get a meal. Everything was shut. Everything. The Happy Fun Time Chinese shut at 5pm weekdays, 6pm Saturday, closed all day Sunday. Everything was shut. So, I trudged back to the B&B with a consolation pack of Fox' Glacier Mints, to be met by my landlady, who had stayed up well past her normal bed-time of 8pm to offer me a scone, a cup of tea and a really filthy look at the Spawn of Satan who'd come to stay under her roof.
Happy day, happy day...
(Fri 30th Oct 2009, 10:38, More)
» Neighbours
Spanky and Brian
Many years ago, I lived in a tenement flat on the top floor. On the floor below and on the otherside of the building lived a couple. Now, this wasn't one of your modern "fart on the top floor and they can here you on the ground floor" flat, it's proper thick stone all round.
One evening, whilst romantically engaged with the young lady who was to become my wife, we were slightly distracted by ecstatic screams of "Brian! Oh Brian!!!". Fair enough, I'm getting a few ecstatic moans myself. Then ... >SpankSpankSpankSpank< Briaaaannnn!".
Length? About three hours, or 2 and a half hours longer than us.
(Thu 1st Oct 2009, 14:23, More)
Spanky and Brian
Many years ago, I lived in a tenement flat on the top floor. On the floor below and on the otherside of the building lived a couple. Now, this wasn't one of your modern "fart on the top floor and they can here you on the ground floor" flat, it's proper thick stone all round.
One evening, whilst romantically engaged with the young lady who was to become my wife, we were slightly distracted by ecstatic screams of "Brian! Oh Brian!!!". Fair enough, I'm getting a few ecstatic moans myself. Then ... >SpankSpankSpankSpank< Briaaaannnn!".
Length? About three hours, or 2 and a half hours longer than us.
(Thu 1st Oct 2009, 14:23, More)
» Stuff I've found
Not me, but a flatmate
Found about 6 ounces of resin lying on the ground in the car park he worked in. It was securely wrapped in clingfilm and had thus survived the several cars running over it.
Ready crumbled dope.
Good times, maaaan, good time.
(Thu 6th Nov 2008, 14:07, More)
Not me, but a flatmate
Found about 6 ounces of resin lying on the ground in the car park he worked in. It was securely wrapped in clingfilm and had thus survived the several cars running over it.
Ready crumbled dope.
Good times, maaaan, good time.
(Thu 6th Nov 2008, 14:07, More)
» Eccentrics
Willie Gut
In the snot-hole I grew up in during the 60s and 70s, there was a chap called "Willie Gut".
He wandered round town wearing what looked like *all* his clothes and a cap, (looked like the same ones as well, for the best part of 10 years), shouting "Dirty knickers! Dirty knickers!!" at any one younger than 20.
In his youth, he'd been a prize fighter, known as "Battling McKenzie", and he'd definitely lost his share of bouts.
The local shops let him sweep up to keep him in food.
(Mon 3rd Nov 2008, 12:26, More)
Willie Gut
In the snot-hole I grew up in during the 60s and 70s, there was a chap called "Willie Gut".
He wandered round town wearing what looked like *all* his clothes and a cap, (looked like the same ones as well, for the best part of 10 years), shouting "Dirty knickers! Dirty knickers!!" at any one younger than 20.
In his youth, he'd been a prize fighter, known as "Battling McKenzie", and he'd definitely lost his share of bouts.
The local shops let him sweep up to keep him in food.
(Mon 3rd Nov 2008, 12:26, More)