Tell me you wouldn't do the same if you were an Honourable Member of Parliament.
Claiming for this, receipts for that. More homes than the local council before Maggie allowed them all to be sold off.
Greedy. Out of touch with reality. Not fit to govern.
All fair points at first glance. But do you really think it's only the politicians in power who are raking it in? No chance! It's called human nature.
I have no idea what you work as, but if you could claim expenses on things that are actually unrelated to your work, but day to day living are you really saying you wouldn't? It's not the politicians that are greedy, even if they are-if that makes sense-but the system that's at fault.
Strange isn't it how the papers are concentrating on the Labour ones, anyone would think they had a (not so) hidden agenda of getting an Old Etonian crony into Number Ten. And why not? The right wing establishment media, led by the Evening (sub)Standard got Bumbling Boris elected as Mayor of London, so what's to stop them doing the same nationally with toffee nosed Cuntish Cameron?
The whole story has nothing to do whatsoever with the integrity of politicians, but everything to do with getting the tories back in power. That's a tory party with fuck all idea of how to govern, even less than nouveau Labour. Which isn't that surprising as they are the same in all but name.
Compared to the average man in the street MPs are paid a fortune, but in the 'real world' they are not paid that much for the task of 'running the country'. I'm not going to say I don't begrudge them a penny because I'd be lying through the gaps in my teeth. But if they can make money, & give work to family & friends in the process, they'de be mugs not to.
I'm not sticking up for them, just being realistic. Who the fuck is going to turn down money if they're being offered it? They may all be a bunch of cunts, but htey're not a bunch of stupid cunts!
Friday, 8 May 2009
Thursday, 7 May 2009
It's been a while
since I've posted. Over two weeks in fact. It's not that I've had nothing to say. I've always got an opinion or two. Nope. It's the age old problem of not enough hours in a day. so while I've got an idea or two in my head by the time I get home from work & have finished bits & pieces looking at various messageboards, or sorting out my photoblogs, I'm then a bit too cream crackered to start tapping away at the old keyboard.
Which is a shame. For me. As I do enjoy blogging, and I've probably got too many blogs on the go. In no particular order....
The Supporters' Team one. Updated once in a while, over the season, not too often, but when I do it's very time consuming.
My general photo one. Ditto, & not updated as much as I should. This is where I 'dump' anything & everything that doesn't fit into other ones.
My football grounds photo one. The one I currently work on most. A labour of love really. I started it a year ago, & over a hundred grounds covered, with over twenty one thousand hits!
My cemeteries & memorials one. The one that I have least time for. But slowly & surely building up. The problem is each post has a lot of snaps included, as I cover a cemetery by publishing anything from fifty to a couple of hundred snaps.
My London sights (& further afield) one. I started this at the start of the year, the aim was to include one post a week, of a museum or some other visitor attraction,but this seems to be beyond me. The visits I can do, as I don't work Wednesdays, but the actual getting the posts done is where I fall behind.
So that's my excuse for not 'wordy blogging' much on here recently. not much of one I know.
And what do I go and do? Like a complete and utter muppet I go and start yet another photo blog!
But at least I've had the sense to make sure it's one where a photo or two speaks louder than words! Enjoy! ;-)
Which is a shame. For me. As I do enjoy blogging, and I've probably got too many blogs on the go. In no particular order....
The Supporters' Team one. Updated once in a while, over the season, not too often, but when I do it's very time consuming.
My general photo one. Ditto, & not updated as much as I should. This is where I 'dump' anything & everything that doesn't fit into other ones.
My football grounds photo one. The one I currently work on most. A labour of love really. I started it a year ago, & over a hundred grounds covered, with over twenty one thousand hits!
My cemeteries & memorials one. The one that I have least time for. But slowly & surely building up. The problem is each post has a lot of snaps included, as I cover a cemetery by publishing anything from fifty to a couple of hundred snaps.
My London sights (& further afield) one. I started this at the start of the year, the aim was to include one post a week, of a museum or some other visitor attraction,but this seems to be beyond me. The visits I can do, as I don't work Wednesdays, but the actual getting the posts done is where I fall behind.
So that's my excuse for not 'wordy blogging' much on here recently. not much of one I know.
And what do I go and do? Like a complete and utter muppet I go and start yet another photo blog!
But at least I've had the sense to make sure it's one where a photo or two speaks louder than words! Enjoy! ;-)
Die you swine!
The end of the world is nigh!
Swine Flu is going to kill us all!
Actually it's quite funny. Not the actual 'threat' of Swine Flu, but looking at the reaction of others when you sneeze on the train into work. And at the moment is sort of sneezy weather. I don't suffer from hay fever, least not that I know of. Though I think I may have some sort of mild version of it. On hot, summery hay fever type days I can sneeze a bit too much, and sometimes have sore eyes. But not too serious. Certainly not anything to bother about, it's just mildly irritating. So I just get on with things, rather than bother my quack about it.
With this Swine Flu I'll just get on with things as well. At the moment it may not be quite as serious as is being hyped up by the media. It's possible there could be a lull, with a mega outbreak in the autumn. Who knows? I'm happy to take my chances. That's not to play down it's potential seriousness, but the majority of those that may die will be the weaker anyway. The old, the young. Those with lower immune systems. In short people who are more susceptible to illness anyway.
I'm one of those who will shrug his shoulders, wonder what all the fuss is, & get on with things. If I catch it I'll just suffer at home, if I can't get into work, & struggle on through until I'm feeling better, only leaving the house for football!
I'm not scientist so I have no way of predicting where this Swine Flu will go. If it cripples half of London then fingers crossed it's not too painful when I catch it. One 'bonus' if I do get infected is that I'm recently diagnosed diabetic, so I have a card where all my prescriptions are free. Not to be sniffed at, so to speak, at over seven quid a pop!
So where has this Swine Flu come from? Mexico apparently. And from pigs. Which is why I'd call it Mexican Flu, rather than Swine Flu, because it's infecting the swine directly in London.
I don't know if you've noticed but a number of schools have been closed as a precaution, after some of their pupils have fallen ill. But no ordinary schools. No sir, no!
Alleyn's in Dulwich: £4,332 per term.
Dolphin School, Clapham: Between £4,290 to £8,070 a year.
South Hampstead High School: £3,700 per term.
Hang on....a flu bug that wipes out the toffee nosed privileged swine that 'buy' their education, giving them a huge unfair advantage in life, simply because they have more money than ordinary people. Put it like that & I'm happy for them to be dropping like flies. Not quite happening. Anyone sufferinf from it are simply quarantined & confined at home, if not in hospital. Which is funny in itself. As they've just got to sweat it out, & there's nothing that their private, queue jumping health schemes like BUPA can do to make them recover ant quicker than a 'common oik' AKA working class person living on a run down inner city council estate!
Swine Flu indeed! I suppose that sounds a bit more acceptable & comforting than Class War Death Flu, to give it its proper name. Manufactured in a dingy basement flat in a rundown Hackney backstreet! Now wouldn't that be marvellous!
We can all but dream eh? ;-)
Swine Flu is going to kill us all!
Actually it's quite funny. Not the actual 'threat' of Swine Flu, but looking at the reaction of others when you sneeze on the train into work. And at the moment is sort of sneezy weather. I don't suffer from hay fever, least not that I know of. Though I think I may have some sort of mild version of it. On hot, summery hay fever type days I can sneeze a bit too much, and sometimes have sore eyes. But not too serious. Certainly not anything to bother about, it's just mildly irritating. So I just get on with things, rather than bother my quack about it.
With this Swine Flu I'll just get on with things as well. At the moment it may not be quite as serious as is being hyped up by the media. It's possible there could be a lull, with a mega outbreak in the autumn. Who knows? I'm happy to take my chances. That's not to play down it's potential seriousness, but the majority of those that may die will be the weaker anyway. The old, the young. Those with lower immune systems. In short people who are more susceptible to illness anyway.
I'm one of those who will shrug his shoulders, wonder what all the fuss is, & get on with things. If I catch it I'll just suffer at home, if I can't get into work, & struggle on through until I'm feeling better, only leaving the house for football!
I'm not scientist so I have no way of predicting where this Swine Flu will go. If it cripples half of London then fingers crossed it's not too painful when I catch it. One 'bonus' if I do get infected is that I'm recently diagnosed diabetic, so I have a card where all my prescriptions are free. Not to be sniffed at, so to speak, at over seven quid a pop!
So where has this Swine Flu come from? Mexico apparently. And from pigs. Which is why I'd call it Mexican Flu, rather than Swine Flu, because it's infecting the swine directly in London.
I don't know if you've noticed but a number of schools have been closed as a precaution, after some of their pupils have fallen ill. But no ordinary schools. No sir, no!
Alleyn's in Dulwich: £4,332 per term.
Dolphin School, Clapham: Between £4,290 to £8,070 a year.
South Hampstead High School: £3,700 per term.
Hang on....a flu bug that wipes out the toffee nosed privileged swine that 'buy' their education, giving them a huge unfair advantage in life, simply because they have more money than ordinary people. Put it like that & I'm happy for them to be dropping like flies. Not quite happening. Anyone sufferinf from it are simply quarantined & confined at home, if not in hospital. Which is funny in itself. As they've just got to sweat it out, & there's nothing that their private, queue jumping health schemes like BUPA can do to make them recover ant quicker than a 'common oik' AKA working class person living on a run down inner city council estate!
Swine Flu indeed! I suppose that sounds a bit more acceptable & comforting than Class War Death Flu, to give it its proper name. Manufactured in a dingy basement flat in a rundown Hackney backstreet! Now wouldn't that be marvellous!
We can all but dream eh? ;-)
Tuesday, 21 April 2009
I'm 100% pro welfare state but...
sometimes you have to question what they are for?
I'm no politician, but to the biggest problem is not that there are so many benefits out there, nor that 'all the foreigners' claim them. (Which is actually a racist urban myth) Non English residents are as entitled to receive benefits as much as you or me, it just so happens that immigrants are often at the bottom of the pile, so are more likely to have no work, or be in the poorest paid jobs. And it's actually notp ossible for asylum seekers to sign on.
My only gripe with the system isn't that money is available, but that once on the benefits money-go-round it's hard to jump off. Take a job & you lose your welfare payments, which is to be expected. BUT you also lose your housing benefit, & things like that, so you have to be in a decently paid job to be able to afford to live and pay the rent/mortgage as well as have a minimum basic lifestyle. A total benefits trap, which I don't have the answer to.
So while I'm one hundred per cent behind the welfare state I'm also supportive of the campaigns for people to shop benefit cheats. Those who sign on, but work in the 'hidden economy'. Not that I'd grass anyone up myself, but there are enough people who will. And if you fiddle your benefits you deserve to get done! The irony being many of those who do cheat are poor white working class, who moan about immigrants taking 'our jobs and houses'! A generalisation from me, but it's true!
As I said I don't know what the answer is, but one deterrent would be to bang people up when they are caught. I have no idea how many cheat are discovered & punished year by year, I'm sure the stats are out there, but it's the stories that make the papers that are the ones that will put people off.
Or give them the green light to go ahead & chance their luck if this story from the 'Croydon Advertiser' is anything to go by.
Tracy Gowlett, a 47 year old mother of three was spared jail after magistrates were reported to have taken pity on her. She had fiddled over ten grand worth of benefits. A combination of income support, housing benefits & council tax benefits, after she failed to tell the authorities that her husband had moved back in with here. He'd apparently moved out in 2001 because of 'extreme financial hardship'. Maybe if they'd been on the fiddle earlier he wouldn't have had to bugger off in the first place...
Because she sobbed in court, & pleaded if she had gone to prison her old man would have had to give up his job to care for their children, she was 'punished' with forty hours community service! That's a whole working week to do! Hardly aa sentence to put you off is it?
She has already paid back £750 of what she bogusly claimed, having got a job in a supermarket. Which sounds all well & good, until you read that before that she hadn't had a job since since she was 24-yes you read that right. A 'mere' twenty three years. Presumably milking the benefits system dry. Suddenly she gets rumbled for being on the fiddle &, hey presto, a convenient job before she's up before a gullible beak!
What odds she stops working, & her repayments go out of the window at the same time, before the year is out?
I have no idea what this woman & her family are like, but I'd bet my last fiver that she would fit in perfectly as a guest on the Jeremy Kyle show!
I'm no politician, but to the biggest problem is not that there are so many benefits out there, nor that 'all the foreigners' claim them. (Which is actually a racist urban myth) Non English residents are as entitled to receive benefits as much as you or me, it just so happens that immigrants are often at the bottom of the pile, so are more likely to have no work, or be in the poorest paid jobs. And it's actually notp ossible for asylum seekers to sign on.
My only gripe with the system isn't that money is available, but that once on the benefits money-go-round it's hard to jump off. Take a job & you lose your welfare payments, which is to be expected. BUT you also lose your housing benefit, & things like that, so you have to be in a decently paid job to be able to afford to live and pay the rent/mortgage as well as have a minimum basic lifestyle. A total benefits trap, which I don't have the answer to.
So while I'm one hundred per cent behind the welfare state I'm also supportive of the campaigns for people to shop benefit cheats. Those who sign on, but work in the 'hidden economy'. Not that I'd grass anyone up myself, but there are enough people who will. And if you fiddle your benefits you deserve to get done! The irony being many of those who do cheat are poor white working class, who moan about immigrants taking 'our jobs and houses'! A generalisation from me, but it's true!
As I said I don't know what the answer is, but one deterrent would be to bang people up when they are caught. I have no idea how many cheat are discovered & punished year by year, I'm sure the stats are out there, but it's the stories that make the papers that are the ones that will put people off.
Or give them the green light to go ahead & chance their luck if this story from the 'Croydon Advertiser' is anything to go by.
Tracy Gowlett, a 47 year old mother of three was spared jail after magistrates were reported to have taken pity on her. She had fiddled over ten grand worth of benefits. A combination of income support, housing benefits & council tax benefits, after she failed to tell the authorities that her husband had moved back in with here. He'd apparently moved out in 2001 because of 'extreme financial hardship'. Maybe if they'd been on the fiddle earlier he wouldn't have had to bugger off in the first place...
Because she sobbed in court, & pleaded if she had gone to prison her old man would have had to give up his job to care for their children, she was 'punished' with forty hours community service! That's a whole working week to do! Hardly aa sentence to put you off is it?
She has already paid back £750 of what she bogusly claimed, having got a job in a supermarket. Which sounds all well & good, until you read that before that she hadn't had a job since since she was 24-yes you read that right. A 'mere' twenty three years. Presumably milking the benefits system dry. Suddenly she gets rumbled for being on the fiddle &, hey presto, a convenient job before she's up before a gullible beak!
What odds she stops working, & her repayments go out of the window at the same time, before the year is out?
I have no idea what this woman & her family are like, but I'd bet my last fiver that she would fit in perfectly as a guest on the Jeremy Kyle show!
Sunday, 19 April 2009
Darting about on a Sunday
Today I was ashamed of my Football Club. I say ‘my’ Club, I am a mere supporter, it’s no more mine than yours really. But I put a claim in by way of my lifelong stint as a fan.
This afternoon I was a mere bandwagon jumping bystander really, if I’m honest. So it might be a bit rich of me to say I was ‘ashamed’. Perhaps I could downgrade that to ‘saddened’.
For the first time this season I saw one of our many Junior sides, apart from the Under Eighteens, who I watch regularly on a Sunday morning. I ventured over to the far south-eastern edge of London to Bexley Park Sports Club in Darford, for the Selkent League Under Sixteen Challenge Cup Final between our boys & Our Lady Youth.
I didn’t know anything really about either side, but gleaned from the League website that the oppo were undefeated in the league, having only conceded six goals; & that we were second, but a good few points behind, having drawn & lost a few. So they would have been red hot favourites. Which I guess would have scuppered my plan to send in a snap to our local rag. But I’d still go for a team photo afterwards, if we lost. Not so much a happy snap, as maybe a few forced grins.
That was my plan…
In the end we lost 5-3, but what a fucking shock we gave them! We went one up, then got another, before they pulled one back. But restored our two goal advantage, to go three up at by half time. But after the break it was another story. They attacked in waves, although we did have some half decent chances, but they hit back, with a couple of late goals finally doing us.
Now I know these are young lads & they're gutted as losing, but their lack of discipline was awful at the end. After we were looking beaten one of our players walked off the pitch! At the final whistle, after the obligitory begrudged handshakes some of our team threw their shirts on the floor, showing no respect to them. Others got changed on the spot, & at least one left the ground before the medals were presented. The boy who walked off during the game was moaning at how shit all his team were, as if he was a star!
How the manager allows this petulant behaviour is beyond me! It was an embarrassment to watch. So much so that I trudged out of the playing field with a heavy heart, before the presentations. I was embarrassed by their childish reaction. Whatever happened to dignity in defeat & pride in the shirt?
Instead of walking a mile & a half back into Bexley I strolled in the other direction, entirely sure where I was off to, but following my A to Z. Heading to Dartford town centre, not for any reason other than it was a nice sunny spring afternoon, & it was now getting dark later. Why? I wasn't going there to see anything in particular, I just fancied the walk. Part of it along the edge of Dartford Heath, and in the town through Central Park. I 'splashed out' on a large bottle of Pepsi Max , which was on a special offer at only a pound at a little corner shop. When I drank 'proper' soft drinks I was always a Coca Cola man, but since being told I'm diabetic thre months ago, I'll drink either because the low/no sugar ones are as shit as each other!
So I was swigging & walking & strange as it may sound just enjoyed doing that. It wasn't particularly scenic, as 'scenic' what I like. My type of scenic is looking & observing. town centres, buildings, that sort of thing. Much of it was with a wood to my left, & a road to my right. walking by Dartford Heath was pleasant enough, lots of yellow flowers, but roughly wild scrubland, not exactly picture postcard, but still countryfied to me, as a London boy. It was warm, but not baking. And while walking through the Heath I got thinking about how I'd love to strip off & sunbathe-which I never! Naturism is something I've never done, but would actually like to one day somewhere, just to feel the 'freedom' of fresh air on my body. I certainly wouldn't do it in the summer when it was hot as I get sunburnt easily & burn bright red & peel. I wouldn't wish that on my dick! ;-)
I also passed a small football club, Fleetdown United, from the Kent County League, unfortunately the gates were locked, so I couldn't nose in & take some snaps. But at least I know where the ground is now. I've seen a couple of matches in this league recently. At Lewisham Borough & Crockenhill. A very low standard, but pleasantly enjoyable, if you take into account they're keen but not very talented. Plus it's very cheap! Couple of quid at most if they do a programme.
Which helps, as I've really got to save money over the next three months, as I've got three trips planned, & I need every spare penny so I can actually live on them! Today was cheap, and I kept myself lazily busy, So I can't complain. The 'hard bit' starts tomorrow, as it's payday, & money will be in my pocket again. The easiest thing to do is to 'save' money by not spending any when you've none in your pocket. The difficult part is not to spend it when you have it! I really think I will be disciplined enough to do this, as I have no choice if I want to survive on my little break, & f I can get into the habit of spending less money then I can save some more, both for other trips and to pay off more debts.
This afternoon I was a mere bandwagon jumping bystander really, if I’m honest. So it might be a bit rich of me to say I was ‘ashamed’. Perhaps I could downgrade that to ‘saddened’.
For the first time this season I saw one of our many Junior sides, apart from the Under Eighteens, who I watch regularly on a Sunday morning. I ventured over to the far south-eastern edge of London to Bexley Park Sports Club in Darford, for the Selkent League Under Sixteen Challenge Cup Final between our boys & Our Lady Youth.
I didn’t know anything really about either side, but gleaned from the League website that the oppo were undefeated in the league, having only conceded six goals; & that we were second, but a good few points behind, having drawn & lost a few. So they would have been red hot favourites. Which I guess would have scuppered my plan to send in a snap to our local rag. But I’d still go for a team photo afterwards, if we lost. Not so much a happy snap, as maybe a few forced grins.
That was my plan…
In the end we lost 5-3, but what a fucking shock we gave them! We went one up, then got another, before they pulled one back. But restored our two goal advantage, to go three up at by half time. But after the break it was another story. They attacked in waves, although we did have some half decent chances, but they hit back, with a couple of late goals finally doing us.
Now I know these are young lads & they're gutted as losing, but their lack of discipline was awful at the end. After we were looking beaten one of our players walked off the pitch! At the final whistle, after the obligitory begrudged handshakes some of our team threw their shirts on the floor, showing no respect to them. Others got changed on the spot, & at least one left the ground before the medals were presented. The boy who walked off during the game was moaning at how shit all his team were, as if he was a star!
How the manager allows this petulant behaviour is beyond me! It was an embarrassment to watch. So much so that I trudged out of the playing field with a heavy heart, before the presentations. I was embarrassed by their childish reaction. Whatever happened to dignity in defeat & pride in the shirt?
Instead of walking a mile & a half back into Bexley I strolled in the other direction, entirely sure where I was off to, but following my A to Z. Heading to Dartford town centre, not for any reason other than it was a nice sunny spring afternoon, & it was now getting dark later. Why? I wasn't going there to see anything in particular, I just fancied the walk. Part of it along the edge of Dartford Heath, and in the town through Central Park. I 'splashed out' on a large bottle of Pepsi Max , which was on a special offer at only a pound at a little corner shop. When I drank 'proper' soft drinks I was always a Coca Cola man, but since being told I'm diabetic thre months ago, I'll drink either because the low/no sugar ones are as shit as each other!
So I was swigging & walking & strange as it may sound just enjoyed doing that. It wasn't particularly scenic, as 'scenic' what I like. My type of scenic is looking & observing. town centres, buildings, that sort of thing. Much of it was with a wood to my left, & a road to my right. walking by Dartford Heath was pleasant enough, lots of yellow flowers, but roughly wild scrubland, not exactly picture postcard, but still countryfied to me, as a London boy. It was warm, but not baking. And while walking through the Heath I got thinking about how I'd love to strip off & sunbathe-which I never! Naturism is something I've never done, but would actually like to one day somewhere, just to feel the 'freedom' of fresh air on my body. I certainly wouldn't do it in the summer when it was hot as I get sunburnt easily & burn bright red & peel. I wouldn't wish that on my dick! ;-)
I also passed a small football club, Fleetdown United, from the Kent County League, unfortunately the gates were locked, so I couldn't nose in & take some snaps. But at least I know where the ground is now. I've seen a couple of matches in this league recently. At Lewisham Borough & Crockenhill. A very low standard, but pleasantly enjoyable, if you take into account they're keen but not very talented. Plus it's very cheap! Couple of quid at most if they do a programme.
Which helps, as I've really got to save money over the next three months, as I've got three trips planned, & I need every spare penny so I can actually live on them! Today was cheap, and I kept myself lazily busy, So I can't complain. The 'hard bit' starts tomorrow, as it's payday, & money will be in my pocket again. The easiest thing to do is to 'save' money by not spending any when you've none in your pocket. The difficult part is not to spend it when you have it! I really think I will be disciplined enough to do this, as I have no choice if I want to survive on my little break, & f I can get into the habit of spending less money then I can save some more, both for other trips and to pay off more debts.
Thursday, 16 April 2009
Take it down!
Walking down the road I passed a couple of shops that still had one of those 'Happy Easter' posters in the window. You know the ones, they have the days of the break, & you can write in your opening hours over the holiday.
Good Friday. Easter Sunday. Easter Bank Holiday Monday. Fair enough. I can cope with all that. But can anyone tell me what the fuck is 'Holy Saturday'? Just because it's slap bang between the day where Jesus was killed and he did his comeback piece, does not make it a 'Holy' Saturday! Not from where I'm sitting! What a load of old nonsense!
But that wasn't actually what I was going to moan about. That was more my 'supplimentary' gripe. Today is Thursday. Easter was over three days ago. Yet the posters are still up in the window. Which to me is slapdash, lazy, incompetent even. One of theshops was a bakery. And when I see out of date posters in their window that implies to me that they don't really care about much at all. If they can't be bothered to take down aan old poster I start wondering what they can't be arsed to do in their kitchens. Why clean today what you can do tomorrow?
An out of date poster makes me a not very happy Easter bunny. If they can't be arsed to take down an out of date mock goodwill message from their shopfront then I have'nt got much faith in them to sell me fresh goods from a clean kitchen. It's enough to make me stop shopping there. Ot itv would be if ever I was one of their customers in the first place.
But I've never been one for supporting small shops anyway. I'm more than happy to continue to trawl the 'grredy' supermarkets where I can get cheaper stuff at a price that matches the meagre loose change in my not very full pocket. Doesn't stop those posters annoying me though!
Good Friday. Easter Sunday. Easter Bank Holiday Monday. Fair enough. I can cope with all that. But can anyone tell me what the fuck is 'Holy Saturday'? Just because it's slap bang between the day where Jesus was killed and he did his comeback piece, does not make it a 'Holy' Saturday! Not from where I'm sitting! What a load of old nonsense!
But that wasn't actually what I was going to moan about. That was more my 'supplimentary' gripe. Today is Thursday. Easter was over three days ago. Yet the posters are still up in the window. Which to me is slapdash, lazy, incompetent even. One of theshops was a bakery. And when I see out of date posters in their window that implies to me that they don't really care about much at all. If they can't be bothered to take down aan old poster I start wondering what they can't be arsed to do in their kitchens. Why clean today what you can do tomorrow?
An out of date poster makes me a not very happy Easter bunny. If they can't be arsed to take down an out of date mock goodwill message from their shopfront then I have'nt got much faith in them to sell me fresh goods from a clean kitchen. It's enough to make me stop shopping there. Ot itv would be if ever I was one of their customers in the first place.
But I've never been one for supporting small shops anyway. I'm more than happy to continue to trawl the 'grredy' supermarkets where I can get cheaper stuff at a price that matches the meagre loose change in my not very full pocket. Doesn't stop those posters annoying me though!
Saturday, 11 April 2009
I actually ended up enjoying being somewhere I didn't want to be!
Yesterday I went to a wedding!!!
Why the exclamation marks? I know I overuse them in my puntuation generally, but the reason I put some there was because it's so rare I go to one, & I've not been to any at all in my almost seven years of sobriety. So the appeal of a free bar didn't hold much appeal. Truth is I didn't much fancy it at all...
A few weeks ago my 'mate' Cookie gave me a bell & asked if I wanted to pop down to Rochester because his mum was getting married. I've met her a couple of times before & she's a nice lady. But I certainly couldn't say I really know her, or the family.
It was strange, because on the one hand Cookie invited me, but on the other hand I still wasn't sure if I wanted to be in his company for such a personal event. Hard to explain without going over a lot of previous, but I'll give it a go,while trying to be brief at the same time. ...
We've known each other for over a dozen years or more, we got to know each other through football, when he started popping down the Hamlet when he was about sixteen or so. I got to know him quite well, and I'd always support him & back him up when I could, as friends do. In September 2007 he even treated me to a long wekeend in Berlin, which I couldn't afford.
But I also had a habit of taking the piss out of him ,as he did of me. And I posted something on his blog which he took umbrage at. And then it got personal. He attacked me on his, so I responded. He then said some really nasty stuff on his, real hurtful vitriolic stuff. Not just personal but totally evil. I could really have got personal & played 'tit for tat' & verbally stuck the knife into him from the past when we were a lot closer, but chose not to. I didn't need to sink to that nasty level. And the friendship was over.
I was saddened, but not totally upset. For the simple reason was I felt I that I hadn't done too much wrong & my conscience was clear. As far as I was concerned it wasn't me who had problems but him.
Out of the blue, just under six months ago, I got texts from him apologising. I knew he'd been back in prison, what for I've never asked. To be perfectly honest I didn't know what to think. I wasn't sure if I wanted to resume a friendship after what he'd said. I didn't need all this shit, and I like to think I'm loyal to my friends & always will be while they're my friends. That is what friendship is all about. But once that friendship is broken it's over. A bond is gone that can never be joined again. But bridges can be rebuilt, & I am glad he got back in touch, as despite everything, I did miss his friendship & he will always mean a lot to me, no matter what.
I thought long and hard as to whether to speak to him & meet up with him now and again. And I really do mean long and hard. And you know what? I'm glad I did. I don't have many friends, and neither does he. It might be partly selfish on my part, but I still care about him a lot.
He's still the fool, and talks a lot of nonsense, & don't get me started on his religious mumbo jumbo & some of the other company he keeps! Well ok, now I've mentioned it...he's converting to judaism, which is his choice, but.. and this is a BIG BUT.. one of his other mates is Jerry, a nazi white supremacist, who has been to the Fatherland that is Germany to attend right wing festivals! A Jew whose best mate is a Holocaust denier! You couldn't make it up! Someone please knock some sense into him because I can't!
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the wedding!
I wore a shirt, which was smart for me, though I didn't go 'suited and booted'. A bit difficult as I don't possess a whistle. But I was assured it would be ok by him. Just as well, because he wasn't wearing one either! As you can see from this snap, as he 'blended in' with everyone else in the front row!-
But, to be fair, it was a smart top he's got on.
He met me at Rochester station, and we popped into Baggins,
And had a quick wander round the Guildhall. ,which includes some of the maritime history on the Medway towns.
Too much information for Cookie, his brain was starting to go into overdrive, so he needed a liedown...
And so, after all that culture, we went to the bar where the ceremony was. A smart bar on the High Street. With the actual ceremony in the basement downstairs, which was an crypt type place, and well smart with old brickwork. There were about fifty people there, and he didn't know many himself! Some relatives he knew, but he hadn't seen them for a while. And his sister was up from London, with a few of her posh 'freeloading' university friends.
We were there about an hour before the nuptuals. And we were in a small bar area, just for the wedding party. Free champagne, or orange juice. Here he is with a glass of champers.
What was funny was he was moaning that his mum had been moaning at him for weeks not to get drunk, and after the serious business was over she was still nagging him, with me assuring her I'd kep an eye on him! He was actually sober when he stepped back & knocked over a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on a stand, sending ice, water, & the champers across the carpet! Which was hilarious! And he had no shame in claiming the dregs that remained in the bottle as a top up! Which might sound a bit 'pikey', but it's also got a touch of class in my book!
I'd never been to a civil wedding before, and it was quite short and sweet. Also quite amusing, as his mum was clearly very nervous, but she got through it! I sat near the back, as I was only a minor guest, on my own & it was surprisingly emotional. I wasn't so much moved by the event, as realising what I would miss out on. Not the 'wedding' thing. But a 'civil ceremony'. Although I'm a lot more comfortable with being gay than I was, I can't see myself ever finding a partner. I'm not particularly attractive & my teeth are a complete mess, missing & smashed & crooked. I don't have any social skills, and wouldn't know where, or how, to start looking for a boyfriend. I'm totally resigned to never being in a relationship & will only have pick ups fom the internet or sex in toilets. I felt happy for them but also sad for me, and I had to be quite strong to hold back some tears.
After the deed was done, and the marriage register signed,it was back upstairs for the real drinking to commence, with a free bar for the night! Fucking great! Where the bloody hell were they when I was still drinking? Which probably answers itself. Nobody in their right mind would have asked me to such occasions . One time I was it was for the wedding of one of my old friends Runner, who is a Millwall fan, who I knew a an old drinking partner from the Hamlet. I thought it was a great evening, the beer was flowing, I'd caned as much wine as possible during the meal, just because you could, even though I wasn't a wine drinker, & that was it really. Except the next day my brother tried to say I was a bit out of order having a go at the Italian woman, and making her cry. Truth is I haven't a clue what I said, & still don't to this day. And don't have a clue who she was, except she was someone's partner at the bash. That's an alcoholic for you. I am ashamed, but I don't regret, because you can't look back as that will screw you up. The only sorrow I have is that I don't know who she is to make amends.
There was a break before the dancing and celebratory drinking kicked in. The cellar had been relaid out, into two long tables for the meal, which was a sit down buffet, hot food; with the family table at the top. Now for me I prefer a good old fashioned 'working class' buffet. Triangular sandwiches, cheese & pineapple on a stick, bowl of jellied eels, chicken drumsticks, dips, assorted party 'crap' from Iceland...you know the spread! But this was nice. And no chips or even potatoes in site! Pasta, vegetables (which I ignored!), a noodle dish, with crunchy sort of vegetable crap in it (which dare I say it but I don't know what on earth that shit was but it tasted ok!), satay chicken, and slices of roast beef & lamb. Presumably no pork at the insistence of the new-jew Cookie! And there was enough to go up for a second plateful if you wished, which naturally I did. As I say, I'm more at home with a 'council estate platter', but that's for me to say. NOT the posh lot sat by me from the university. They actually expressed genuine surprise that it was acceptable tucker. Muttering, but not too loudly in case anyone heard them, they expected pinapple & cheese on a stick, & lots of sausage rolls. I really had to bite my tongue & count to ten to keep my mouth shut & not create a scene. fucking poncy stuck up toffee nosed twats! But it was good grub, I'd have been happy with sausage rolls, unlike them, but this was actually posh for me! I don't know if they were expecting a delivery from Iceland, or what!
The speeches came next, and they were short and sweet. It was strange because Cabbie, the groom, had his brother in law as the best man, and he'd hardly met Cookie's mum. But he seemed alright. His missus also said a few words at the end, and it really struck a chord with me. She mentioned she saw the true happiness in Cabbie's smile, when she first met them together. And that was just like christmas 2007, when my brother Mook, who had been married for over twenty years had split, and then met his now fiancee Mountie. She came over for the first time that christmas, & we (myself & sisters) all met her for the first time then. A few days after she went home he asked me what I thought, and he was dead nervous about it, which was unusual for him. I had to think carefully about my reply. I had to say I'd honestly never seen him so happy in his entire life! So I could see where the woman at the top table was coming from today.
Even in the midst of middle age people can find happiness, which will be for the beginning of the rest of their lives. I don't think I will ever experience this, but for a brief moment it would be wonderful to imagine, but I shut that out quickly as it's too depressing to contemplate reality.
Before the wedding yesterday I was actually dreading the whole afternoon.Sitting in the small bar, sipping orange juice, not knowing anyone apart from Cookie. Wondering how on earth I'd try to stretch conversation out, as everyone else got progressively drunk around me. I was desperately trying to work out how soon I could sneak out, without appearing rude. With between six or seven my target-at the latest!
But it didn't quite work like that. It actually turned out a pleasant evening! This is how 'normal' people have a good time! Despite almost seven years sobriety I still can't get over how 'slowly' ordinary people drink. And with a 'free bar' too! But then I suppose that's simply another symptom of alcoholism that never goes away. Not being able to consider drink rationally.
After downstairs was set for the evening the happy couple cut the cake.
This was later cut up into small pieces, and put into napkins, for eveyone to take a piece home, which is traditional. Which I did, but maybe one ot two extra 'slipped' into my pockets, and I ended up with a greedy, 'pikey' six pieces! And it was all delicious! Sometimes you can ignore watching your sugar intake with diabetes 2! (I hope) Well I'm not dead, and it was a rare treat!
Then they had the 'first dance'
When that was done it was time to 'disappear'. Not sneak off early as planned, I had surprised myself by enjoying myself, but to avoid getting roped into dancing! I simply can't dance. Never have done & don't know how to! Through my teenage years I avoided the 'teenybop' discos, because all my mates tried to cop off with girls & I didn't fancy them, so didn't like them things. Scared in case my mates got me to talk about & to girls, when I fancied the boys. Then, as I got older, I simply 'fell in love' with drink, instead of going to gay clubs, and besides I can't dance anyway! Excuses, excuses maybe? But another reason I'll always be lonely without a partner...
There was a smoking area outside, not that I smoke. But it was somewhere to 'escape' from the dancing downstairs, to just chill out and chat, it was actually nice to see Cookie talk to some old relatives, and start to relax. He insisted I take a few photos of him with them for for his American friends. I'm not sure if he wanted me to include them all on here, but what the heck!
This one is with his mum & sister.
Here he is with his 'new dad'!
This is a snap with two of his uncles. The one on the left had a jokey syrup with him...
Which Cookie took a shine to! ;-)
There was also a yard behind the bar, below the smoking balcony, which was closed off. In the middle was alone palm tree. no tables, chairs, nothing! Presumably at the beginning of a 'makeover' for the coming summer months. There were wires coming out of the paving stones, I would guess for those great patio heater stands. They are great to stand under at dusk. If ever I had a proper life, and a garden and money, I'd get one for outside! for some reason Cookie wanted his photo taken with it.
I don't know what a 'Freudian' type would have made of this. A lone tree, surrounded by emptiness & Cookie. How would you interpret his life from that? I'm not going to answer my rhetorical question. Those in glass houses & all that...
Thankfully, from my point of view, his nazi mate, who he'd asked along didn't show. I somehow didn't thnk I'd want to be in his company, and would have told him so in no uncertain terms. Which would have been a shame on Cookie, as it might have taken a bit of the shine off of his day. But then he shouldn't be making excuses for cunts like that anyway!
One of his ex-work mates Security did show, and he was actually a decent bloke.
To be honest they did talk '(ex)shop' a bit too much for my liking. But then, if it wasn't for his recent spell in prison Cookie would still be happily employed in that field, rather than currently on the rock & roll. And they didn't rabbit on about work in a boring way, so I didn't mind really.
There was another bloke we chatted to & what a prat he was! Cookie mentioned that he was looking into maybe moving abroad to make a new start, & that set White-Van off! He moaned about all the foreigners, & illegals, caliming all the benefits & sponging off the state, when your Englishmen couldn't get anything. He ranted about Albanians & Kosovans who smoked, drove cars, and all had big screen plasma televisions on their walls! not to mention taking our jobs while signing on. And how did he know this? He owned properties which he rented out to loads of them, & saw their flash lifestyles when he went round to collect their rent! Oh the irony! Just a pity I didn't have the facts to hand! What a tosser!
I dread to think how much I had to drink. I was overdosed on J2O! The funny thing was that whenever I went to the bar and asked for a Becks, vodka, & a J2O the barmaids asked what flavour J2O I wanted. They couldn't quite grasp the fact I couldn't care less and just said that any of them would do!
Beer must make you want to piss more, as it was quite a while before I had a slash. So I thought Cookie had been joking when he said that he had pissed into the sinks, rather than the urinals, before he realised his mistake, as they looked the same!
But you know what..he had a point!
All too soon it was gone half past ten at night, and I had to bid my goodbyes, and say my thank yous,Cookie struggled to get through the cellar bar wothout getting grabbed for a boogie!
He managed to 'escape' their clutches by insisting he had to walk me up to the station, which they fell for!
And as we were strolling up Rochester High Street 'Star Wars' fan Cookie bumped into a Stormtrooper! I kid you not! He wanted his photo taken, but bottled it, I knew he'd regret it & made him ask to pose for a snap!
And on that bizarre note I bade my farewells, ending up on the 23.05 train back to London!
Stuffing my face on bits of wedding cake, happy to know that an old friendship was getting cemented again, though after he reads all this I'm not so sure! ;-)
Why the exclamation marks? I know I overuse them in my puntuation generally, but the reason I put some there was because it's so rare I go to one, & I've not been to any at all in my almost seven years of sobriety. So the appeal of a free bar didn't hold much appeal. Truth is I didn't much fancy it at all...
A few weeks ago my 'mate' Cookie gave me a bell & asked if I wanted to pop down to Rochester because his mum was getting married. I've met her a couple of times before & she's a nice lady. But I certainly couldn't say I really know her, or the family.
It was strange, because on the one hand Cookie invited me, but on the other hand I still wasn't sure if I wanted to be in his company for such a personal event. Hard to explain without going over a lot of previous, but I'll give it a go,while trying to be brief at the same time. ...
We've known each other for over a dozen years or more, we got to know each other through football, when he started popping down the Hamlet when he was about sixteen or so. I got to know him quite well, and I'd always support him & back him up when I could, as friends do. In September 2007 he even treated me to a long wekeend in Berlin, which I couldn't afford.
But I also had a habit of taking the piss out of him ,as he did of me. And I posted something on his blog which he took umbrage at. And then it got personal. He attacked me on his, so I responded. He then said some really nasty stuff on his, real hurtful vitriolic stuff. Not just personal but totally evil. I could really have got personal & played 'tit for tat' & verbally stuck the knife into him from the past when we were a lot closer, but chose not to. I didn't need to sink to that nasty level. And the friendship was over.
I was saddened, but not totally upset. For the simple reason was I felt I that I hadn't done too much wrong & my conscience was clear. As far as I was concerned it wasn't me who had problems but him.
Out of the blue, just under six months ago, I got texts from him apologising. I knew he'd been back in prison, what for I've never asked. To be perfectly honest I didn't know what to think. I wasn't sure if I wanted to resume a friendship after what he'd said. I didn't need all this shit, and I like to think I'm loyal to my friends & always will be while they're my friends. That is what friendship is all about. But once that friendship is broken it's over. A bond is gone that can never be joined again. But bridges can be rebuilt, & I am glad he got back in touch, as despite everything, I did miss his friendship & he will always mean a lot to me, no matter what.
I thought long and hard as to whether to speak to him & meet up with him now and again. And I really do mean long and hard. And you know what? I'm glad I did. I don't have many friends, and neither does he. It might be partly selfish on my part, but I still care about him a lot.
He's still the fool, and talks a lot of nonsense, & don't get me started on his religious mumbo jumbo & some of the other company he keeps! Well ok, now I've mentioned it...he's converting to judaism, which is his choice, but.. and this is a BIG BUT.. one of his other mates is Jerry, a nazi white supremacist, who has been to the Fatherland that is Germany to attend right wing festivals! A Jew whose best mate is a Holocaust denier! You couldn't make it up! Someone please knock some sense into him because I can't!
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the wedding!
I wore a shirt, which was smart for me, though I didn't go 'suited and booted'. A bit difficult as I don't possess a whistle. But I was assured it would be ok by him. Just as well, because he wasn't wearing one either! As you can see from this snap, as he 'blended in' with everyone else in the front row!-
But, to be fair, it was a smart top he's got on.
He met me at Rochester station, and we popped into Baggins,
And had a quick wander round the Guildhall. ,which includes some of the maritime history on the Medway towns.
Too much information for Cookie, his brain was starting to go into overdrive, so he needed a liedown...
And so, after all that culture, we went to the bar where the ceremony was. A smart bar on the High Street. With the actual ceremony in the basement downstairs, which was an crypt type place, and well smart with old brickwork. There were about fifty people there, and he didn't know many himself! Some relatives he knew, but he hadn't seen them for a while. And his sister was up from London, with a few of her posh 'freeloading' university friends.
We were there about an hour before the nuptuals. And we were in a small bar area, just for the wedding party. Free champagne, or orange juice. Here he is with a glass of champers.
What was funny was he was moaning that his mum had been moaning at him for weeks not to get drunk, and after the serious business was over she was still nagging him, with me assuring her I'd kep an eye on him! He was actually sober when he stepped back & knocked over a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on a stand, sending ice, water, & the champers across the carpet! Which was hilarious! And he had no shame in claiming the dregs that remained in the bottle as a top up! Which might sound a bit 'pikey', but it's also got a touch of class in my book!
I'd never been to a civil wedding before, and it was quite short and sweet. Also quite amusing, as his mum was clearly very nervous, but she got through it! I sat near the back, as I was only a minor guest, on my own & it was surprisingly emotional. I wasn't so much moved by the event, as realising what I would miss out on. Not the 'wedding' thing. But a 'civil ceremony'. Although I'm a lot more comfortable with being gay than I was, I can't see myself ever finding a partner. I'm not particularly attractive & my teeth are a complete mess, missing & smashed & crooked. I don't have any social skills, and wouldn't know where, or how, to start looking for a boyfriend. I'm totally resigned to never being in a relationship & will only have pick ups fom the internet or sex in toilets. I felt happy for them but also sad for me, and I had to be quite strong to hold back some tears.
After the deed was done, and the marriage register signed,it was back upstairs for the real drinking to commence, with a free bar for the night! Fucking great! Where the bloody hell were they when I was still drinking? Which probably answers itself. Nobody in their right mind would have asked me to such occasions . One time I was it was for the wedding of one of my old friends Runner, who is a Millwall fan, who I knew a an old drinking partner from the Hamlet. I thought it was a great evening, the beer was flowing, I'd caned as much wine as possible during the meal, just because you could, even though I wasn't a wine drinker, & that was it really. Except the next day my brother tried to say I was a bit out of order having a go at the Italian woman, and making her cry. Truth is I haven't a clue what I said, & still don't to this day. And don't have a clue who she was, except she was someone's partner at the bash. That's an alcoholic for you. I am ashamed, but I don't regret, because you can't look back as that will screw you up. The only sorrow I have is that I don't know who she is to make amends.
There was a break before the dancing and celebratory drinking kicked in. The cellar had been relaid out, into two long tables for the meal, which was a sit down buffet, hot food; with the family table at the top. Now for me I prefer a good old fashioned 'working class' buffet. Triangular sandwiches, cheese & pineapple on a stick, bowl of jellied eels, chicken drumsticks, dips, assorted party 'crap' from Iceland...you know the spread! But this was nice. And no chips or even potatoes in site! Pasta, vegetables (which I ignored!), a noodle dish, with crunchy sort of vegetable crap in it (which dare I say it but I don't know what on earth that shit was but it tasted ok!), satay chicken, and slices of roast beef & lamb. Presumably no pork at the insistence of the new-jew Cookie! And there was enough to go up for a second plateful if you wished, which naturally I did. As I say, I'm more at home with a 'council estate platter', but that's for me to say. NOT the posh lot sat by me from the university. They actually expressed genuine surprise that it was acceptable tucker. Muttering, but not too loudly in case anyone heard them, they expected pinapple & cheese on a stick, & lots of sausage rolls. I really had to bite my tongue & count to ten to keep my mouth shut & not create a scene. fucking poncy stuck up toffee nosed twats! But it was good grub, I'd have been happy with sausage rolls, unlike them, but this was actually posh for me! I don't know if they were expecting a delivery from Iceland, or what!
The speeches came next, and they were short and sweet. It was strange because Cabbie, the groom, had his brother in law as the best man, and he'd hardly met Cookie's mum. But he seemed alright. His missus also said a few words at the end, and it really struck a chord with me. She mentioned she saw the true happiness in Cabbie's smile, when she first met them together. And that was just like christmas 2007, when my brother Mook, who had been married for over twenty years had split, and then met his now fiancee Mountie. She came over for the first time that christmas, & we (myself & sisters) all met her for the first time then. A few days after she went home he asked me what I thought, and he was dead nervous about it, which was unusual for him. I had to think carefully about my reply. I had to say I'd honestly never seen him so happy in his entire life! So I could see where the woman at the top table was coming from today.
Even in the midst of middle age people can find happiness, which will be for the beginning of the rest of their lives. I don't think I will ever experience this, but for a brief moment it would be wonderful to imagine, but I shut that out quickly as it's too depressing to contemplate reality.
Before the wedding yesterday I was actually dreading the whole afternoon.Sitting in the small bar, sipping orange juice, not knowing anyone apart from Cookie. Wondering how on earth I'd try to stretch conversation out, as everyone else got progressively drunk around me. I was desperately trying to work out how soon I could sneak out, without appearing rude. With between six or seven my target-at the latest!
But it didn't quite work like that. It actually turned out a pleasant evening! This is how 'normal' people have a good time! Despite almost seven years sobriety I still can't get over how 'slowly' ordinary people drink. And with a 'free bar' too! But then I suppose that's simply another symptom of alcoholism that never goes away. Not being able to consider drink rationally.
After downstairs was set for the evening the happy couple cut the cake.
This was later cut up into small pieces, and put into napkins, for eveyone to take a piece home, which is traditional. Which I did, but maybe one ot two extra 'slipped' into my pockets, and I ended up with a greedy, 'pikey' six pieces! And it was all delicious! Sometimes you can ignore watching your sugar intake with diabetes 2! (I hope) Well I'm not dead, and it was a rare treat!
Then they had the 'first dance'
When that was done it was time to 'disappear'. Not sneak off early as planned, I had surprised myself by enjoying myself, but to avoid getting roped into dancing! I simply can't dance. Never have done & don't know how to! Through my teenage years I avoided the 'teenybop' discos, because all my mates tried to cop off with girls & I didn't fancy them, so didn't like them things. Scared in case my mates got me to talk about & to girls, when I fancied the boys. Then, as I got older, I simply 'fell in love' with drink, instead of going to gay clubs, and besides I can't dance anyway! Excuses, excuses maybe? But another reason I'll always be lonely without a partner...
There was a smoking area outside, not that I smoke. But it was somewhere to 'escape' from the dancing downstairs, to just chill out and chat, it was actually nice to see Cookie talk to some old relatives, and start to relax. He insisted I take a few photos of him with them for for his American friends. I'm not sure if he wanted me to include them all on here, but what the heck!
This one is with his mum & sister.
Here he is with his 'new dad'!
This is a snap with two of his uncles. The one on the left had a jokey syrup with him...
Which Cookie took a shine to! ;-)
There was also a yard behind the bar, below the smoking balcony, which was closed off. In the middle was alone palm tree. no tables, chairs, nothing! Presumably at the beginning of a 'makeover' for the coming summer months. There were wires coming out of the paving stones, I would guess for those great patio heater stands. They are great to stand under at dusk. If ever I had a proper life, and a garden and money, I'd get one for outside! for some reason Cookie wanted his photo taken with it.
I don't know what a 'Freudian' type would have made of this. A lone tree, surrounded by emptiness & Cookie. How would you interpret his life from that? I'm not going to answer my rhetorical question. Those in glass houses & all that...
Thankfully, from my point of view, his nazi mate, who he'd asked along didn't show. I somehow didn't thnk I'd want to be in his company, and would have told him so in no uncertain terms. Which would have been a shame on Cookie, as it might have taken a bit of the shine off of his day. But then he shouldn't be making excuses for cunts like that anyway!
One of his ex-work mates Security did show, and he was actually a decent bloke.
To be honest they did talk '(ex)shop' a bit too much for my liking. But then, if it wasn't for his recent spell in prison Cookie would still be happily employed in that field, rather than currently on the rock & roll. And they didn't rabbit on about work in a boring way, so I didn't mind really.
There was another bloke we chatted to & what a prat he was! Cookie mentioned that he was looking into maybe moving abroad to make a new start, & that set White-Van off! He moaned about all the foreigners, & illegals, caliming all the benefits & sponging off the state, when your Englishmen couldn't get anything. He ranted about Albanians & Kosovans who smoked, drove cars, and all had big screen plasma televisions on their walls! not to mention taking our jobs while signing on. And how did he know this? He owned properties which he rented out to loads of them, & saw their flash lifestyles when he went round to collect their rent! Oh the irony! Just a pity I didn't have the facts to hand! What a tosser!
I dread to think how much I had to drink. I was overdosed on J2O! The funny thing was that whenever I went to the bar and asked for a Becks, vodka, & a J2O the barmaids asked what flavour J2O I wanted. They couldn't quite grasp the fact I couldn't care less and just said that any of them would do!
Beer must make you want to piss more, as it was quite a while before I had a slash. So I thought Cookie had been joking when he said that he had pissed into the sinks, rather than the urinals, before he realised his mistake, as they looked the same!
But you know what..he had a point!
All too soon it was gone half past ten at night, and I had to bid my goodbyes, and say my thank yous,Cookie struggled to get through the cellar bar wothout getting grabbed for a boogie!
He managed to 'escape' their clutches by insisting he had to walk me up to the station, which they fell for!
And as we were strolling up Rochester High Street 'Star Wars' fan Cookie bumped into a Stormtrooper! I kid you not! He wanted his photo taken, but bottled it, I knew he'd regret it & made him ask to pose for a snap!
And on that bizarre note I bade my farewells, ending up on the 23.05 train back to London!
Stuffing my face on bits of wedding cake, happy to know that an old friendship was getting cemented again, though after he reads all this I'm not so sure! ;-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)