» Buses

"I'm not F*cking Swearing, whay are you being a c*nt?"
On the 30 bus, going from Highbury to as near to "Randy's Pimp Palace" in Homerton as I can get. On the phone to Mrs Randy at the time, regailing her with my erotic lyricisms, and generally making her laugh and wet in equal measures. Good times.

Been to a footbal match at the Emirates and in general jovial mood. Outside the Tesco on Morning Lane, for those who know it, 24 hour Tesco, and after about 9:30 every night, exclusively populated by the scum of the Earth. A complete Twat gets on, complete with his unmarked carrier bag of Cider, I'm on the top deck, and can't see him at this point, but can hear him clear as day, let's call him Cuntface:

Cuntface: "You Fucking Cunt, I ain't got no money, I ain't paying"

Subtext: As I've spent the lot on Cider.

Driver: "Please do not swear at me Sir"

Subtext: CUNT

Cuntface: "I ain't fucking swearing, what are yo being a cunt for?"

Subtext: I've had lots and lots of cider, and have acheived cuntvana

Driver: "Sir, as I've asked you nicely, I'm not moving the bus until you're not on it"

Subtext: Fuck Off.

This goes on, and on, and on, much to the annoyance of everyone on the bus except me, who is still making Mrs Randy even randier with my quips and witicisms.

Anyway, Cuntface eventually gets of the bus, and the bus driver closes the doors. This results in Cuntface standing in front of the bus shouting "You can't go nowhere with me in front of the bus"!!!!!

This goes on for some time, with every move the bus makes Cuntface compensates this way and that. Eventually, Cuntface makes his fatal move and stumbles off towards the pavement in a final desperate throw of pissed up ineptitude. The bus driver, seeing his opportunity makesa a bid for freedom, and accelerates off toward the open road, propelling me tantalisingly closer to home, only for Cuntface to recover just in time to throw his body in the way of an accelerating bus.

Cuntface knocked unconcious and cider cans pissing and hissing all over the road, and Randy releiving his baldder in his pants through the shear weight of laughing like he's having a epileptic episode.

Brilliant. Didn't stick around for the aftermath of Police and St John's ambulance brigade, and decided to walk home instead, much to Mrs Randy's frustration, as I could have been round her's getting less Randy by the second, and waht a good second that would have been.
(Thu 25th Jun 2009, 17:46, More)

» Housemates

The Pink Torpedo
The Pink Torpedo has saved me from many a fatal falw, and yes, I have many. The time he picked me up literally by wrist and ankle off my bedroom floor and put me into bed, despite me threatening to beat him when I sobered up enough to put myself in to bed. I did repay him though. We went out foir The Pink Torpedo's 30th, we were in a club of ill repute in Camden. We drank solidly until the bar shut at around 4am. I joined the cue for the coats, the Pink Torpedo sunk to the floor at my feet, filled a pint glass with sick, put on his coat, and lay down in the pouring freezing rain to sleep. The Queen then left the Torpedo in the capable hands of some very nice gay men and proceeded to the Woody Grill for some meat wrapped in flat bread, and returned sporting water chewing gum and cash (for a taxi). The Queen then proceeded to releive the Gay Gentlemen of their duty and threw the water straight into The Torpedo's groin. The Queen then bought the taxi home. Sadly The Queen and the Torpedo no longer share the sdame abode, however we still continiue our various tours of destruction every now and then.
(Wed 4th Mar 2009, 17:19, More)

» Tramps

I haven't got any direct stories, but a few friends have regaled me with some classics
No 1:

A friend of mine, who after dissappearing off the face of the planet turned up in woods just outside Plymouth, living in a tent. Apparently he decided that paying rent wasn't for him, so he became a free loading hippy. I only tell you this as his story was borne from his time spent in a hostel at some point in his past......... The hostel was populated by the homeless, drunk, derranged, and in some cases the heavily retarded. A character described to the author as "Slaggy Maggie" apparently a drunk former prostitute, used to "offer out" all and sundry for sexual favours, in exchange for cans of Kestrel. A thoroughly upstanding member of society. Apparently there was one heavily retarded guy staying at the same hostel, one day he came running in to the main room of the hostel where everybody was hanging out screaming his head off, and completely uncontrolable. After calming him down somewhat everyone started to enquire as to how he came to be in such a state, he would not however divulge any of the particulars of the incident that caused him such distress, but cited Slaggy Maggie as the source. Salggy Maggie turns up a few minutes later, and being in jovial spirits, is more than happy to divulge the circumstance behind the young mans demise......... apparently she'd been giving him a blow job and whilst in the full throws of the act her false teeth had come off and had been left basically clamped to the root of the poor blokes cock.

No. 2:

A friend of a friend was out on the piss on evening, and having spunked all of his cash on the hardest drinks available, was in the unfortunate position of being completely and utterly incapable of making his way home. It being a fine summers evening a stagger home seemed the only option available, and thus he began his crusade for bed, and the subsequent hangover....... Our hero eventually gets to a park, he some how manages to scale the fence and begins walking through the park. After a while he resigns himself to defeat and lays down on a bench. He falls into a deep and peaceful sleep. Whatever tomorrow brings, let it be............. Our hero wakes in the night with a distinct feeling of wet around his groinal area. In the drunken half slumber he leaves it a minute and tries to gether his thoughts.... he opens his eyes and sits up to find a male tramp giving him a blow job........... eventually our hero made it home, apparently the tramp did not manage to withdraw his salty prize.
(Fri 3rd Jul 2009, 12:56, More)

» Darwin Awards

Train track Chicken without a vechile.......
A guy I knew from school used to walk down the tracks from Old Street to Angel tube, if the train was delayed at all......... he's still alive as far as I am aware.
(Mon 16th Feb 2009, 12:20, More)

» School Days

First post, probably first of many...... here goes.........
Right, amongst the many years of my life, which I ultimately wasted at some of the finest schools in the worst borough in the country, there are two significant eventsa which stick in ones mind:

1) The day I realised that the Noble prize for Any Kind of Scientific discipline would be beyond me....... being asked to enter your science lesson by your teacher, who at the time had just arrived from a fag a caffiene break to UNLOCK the classroom, only to find that magically some student, or students had used the only essential skills they knew to break in via the fire escape, and turn on and light every single bunsen burner tap in the class room. Watching the panic sink in was something of a joy, but not being able to do anything in Science that involved heating things until I changed school, was not.

2) By the time my 3rd or 4th year had rolled on, I was sadly in the position whereby I pretty much knew these were not life long friends, and school for all of it's efforts, was not the arena i would best thrive in, thus when asked if I could use my significant Mary J habit to procure a class mate some supplies, I was all to happy to oblige. I ultimately bought what he asked, but smoked it that evening with some other non-life long friends, and arrived home wondering what I could use for a substitute. Dried Basil, was the best I could find, I knew he wouldn't tell the difference as he lacked a "frame of reference". The result was that he asked another classmate (who by this time was in on it) to roll for him using A5 PAPER. A5! A f*cking 5! the result I was lead to beleive was nothing short of a digusting nausiating, lung burning abortion of a spliff. Sadly I too that Lunch time got wasted and told a few other people, by the next day, the nameless individual had been christened Baz. Too this day I feel so pruod and yet ashamed of the event, but damn did we laugh. A f*cking 5!
(Thu 29th Jan 2009, 14:33, More)