I could fill up the whole of the internet writing about last night but i won't, ill try and keep it short yet wholely entertaining. Last night was quite possibly one of the weirdest, funniest experiences of my life, maybe apart from the time i first pooed myself and it fell down my leg and got stuck due to my elasticated power ranger pyjama bottoms, that was quite cool as well. Anyway, after a heavy session the night before which resulted in singing Elvis songs until 3 in the morning me and Dickie in true alcoholic style decided to go straight to the pub upon arising for some gold old fashioned liquid yeast. It was then he dropped the plan of going to Brighton to see Speed The Collapse, our mates band. Fuck it, excuse to booze, somewhere different, why not. Shortly after Dan got involved however by the time he reached the pub at 5 we were already well on it. Picking up some Stella for the train we set off, changing at Chichester for a reason nobody knows except Dan but he won't tell us because he's queer. Upon arrival in Brighton we found out the pub was called 'The Fat Dyke' or something along those lines, great, Dickie paid for a taxi because he was minted until this morning and it was bloody cold. Got there and i didn't know whether to laugh or fuck off straight back to Pompey. We had travelled for a proper local boozer full of regulars and about 8 people under the age of 186. After getting accosted for i.d we sat down and spent some more quality time with Stella. Watched some band with a hot babe in it then watched the band we had come to see. By this point Dickie was well on his way and had already smashed a pint glass however blamed it on Dan. I did the same not long after yet no matter how many times we offered to help clean the glass up they wouldn't let us. Maybe they were afraid we'd try and stab them all or something, i don't know. Weird though. In the end we got asked to leave as they had enough of Dickie and his drunken antics ruining they're quaint establishment. No room in any cars for a lift back to Portsmouth we decided our only option was to walk into town and drink so we started strolling, everyone rejected something from the pit of their stomachs which was pretty sweet, syncronization. My memorys a bit hazy about the next bit but i remember getting in a taxi and offering to pay £85 to get to Chichester which to be fair would have been pointless anyway as thats not exactly close to the blue army. After lots of being dicks we ran off, why i don't know but it happened. Then i found some money so i thought id get some cheeky beers from an off license, god knows why but none were consumed, simply thrown at each other like little metallic parcels of fun. It won't be fun for the bloke who finds the one Dickie slotted through his car window, if your reading this, Dickies sorry. The kebab house was next, as we thought this was where we were staying we really dragged it out, 2 kebabs with some shite salad, Dan looking ready to vomit and Dickie thinking he's king fucking kong eating some super spicy hot chilli sauce that could have used to melt metal. I tried a little bit and my mouth turned to niagra fools and i was reduced to a dribbling mess, Dickie was eating it like it was chocolate mousse. 285856 pints of water later he chilled out, gave me and Dan a giggle though so in our eyes it was worth it. Found some fellas who pointed us in the direction of some boozers and off we went. Found 2 girls outside of Burger King, Dan loved them, they couldn't come with us although one of them was well up for it. They did look about 14 though so best not really, Dickie proceeded to dump tackle me onto a sign for no reason. Maybe he just got bored, fair play. Ended up in some place, was alright and open til 3 so it killed some more time. Me and Dan were about 3 sips into a pint and we see these mound of empty glasses on the table where Dickies just done about 20 Jaggerbombs to himself. After that he got a bit weird, walked off with some dude with a broken arm jus so the could get more money out of the cashpoint and buy him a Jaggerbomb too.This behaviour continued along with him buying the barmaid drinks, or so he thought, as she just kept putting his money in the tip jar. Unlucky really, she had a face like a slapped arse anyway. After they basically asked us to leave we decided to look elsewhere, finding a 24 hour bar /restaurant but not wanting to buy anything except booze which apparently is not allowed, we quickly left. Whilst im smoking Dickie and Dan have worked there way onto the top floor of the Travelodge and are sleeping in a corridor. Me meanwhile is left to walk in only to be greeted by some batty boy of a receptionist with bleach blonde hair and a fucking hitler tash. Im not the sort of person to stereotype people but he was a grade A cockrocket. Eventually Travelodge had enough and Mr Fritz found them two and kicked us all out. The 24 hour bar place looked our only hope so onward we marched with Dan trying to get himself arrested on the way simply for a bed. The 5-0 wern't feeling it so we left them to fight real criminals and went to fill our tumtums. By now funds were low so after squaring it with Dickie it was agreed he'd pay by card for me and Dan to get 2 breakfasts and 2 Stellas however with Dickie not even knowing his own name when the bill came we had to convince him AGAIN that paying for it was the right thing to do. Me and Dan got stuck in and had a deep chat about some bullshit whilst Dickie slumped semi concious in the corner. Making a breakfast and a pint last 2 hours is bloody hard work, even more so when you just want to sleep yet the train station wasn't open til 5 so we didn't have a choice. After nearly getting the boot from there due to Dickie being asleep we got a cheeky taxi to the station picking up a few more cold bevvies for the journey home. Met some absolute nutter of a german guy at the station who had been beaten up but was some ex boxer so apparently fought off 3 lads. Again, im not going to stereotype, but this fella must have been an ex boxer in like 1890, he was well passed his sell by date. He did wind me whilst showing me how he fought, a swift elbow to the stomach and my ice cold beer was on its way back up.Shortly after this i nearly got battered to death by some hench South African guy and his cage fighting mate. Dan had ran off to grab a fence post or some shit whilst me and Dickie saw our lives flash before our eyes. Im not going to go into details but we worked it all out eventually, he gave us a few muscle tips and some scare tactics so we're all set for next time. Eventually saw life in the form of a train however they only went to London with our train not arriving for another 2 hours. Fuck waiting lets go was the general thought. The planned slowly changed to 'we're going to Epsom to Dickies sisters house at liek 7 in the morning'. This plan was aborted when, after all falling asleep, Scrooge himself woke us up and booted us off the train for drinking, not having tickets, swearing, being abusive, and yeah. He made it all up to be honest, we just wanted him to fuck off so we could sleep as my stomach ran out of the room to hold anymore beer. Stuck in East Croydon our mission brief changed back to Portsmouth, after what seemed like an age a train arrived and 3 hours later i reached home soil. 6 hours later im still drunk. Epic.
Sunday 28 December 2008
Brighton.
I could fill up the whole of the internet writing about last night but i won't, ill try and keep it short yet wholely entertaining. Last night was quite possibly one of the weirdest, funniest experiences of my life, maybe apart from the time i first pooed myself and it fell down my leg and got stuck due to my elasticated power ranger pyjama bottoms, that was quite cool as well. Anyway, after a heavy session the night before which resulted in singing Elvis songs until 3 in the morning me and Dickie in true alcoholic style decided to go straight to the pub upon arising for some gold old fashioned liquid yeast. It was then he dropped the plan of going to Brighton to see Speed The Collapse, our mates band. Fuck it, excuse to booze, somewhere different, why not. Shortly after Dan got involved however by the time he reached the pub at 5 we were already well on it. Picking up some Stella for the train we set off, changing at Chichester for a reason nobody knows except Dan but he won't tell us because he's queer. Upon arrival in Brighton we found out the pub was called 'The Fat Dyke' or something along those lines, great, Dickie paid for a taxi because he was minted until this morning and it was bloody cold. Got there and i didn't know whether to laugh or fuck off straight back to Pompey. We had travelled for a proper local boozer full of regulars and about 8 people under the age of 186. After getting accosted for i.d we sat down and spent some more quality time with Stella. Watched some band with a hot babe in it then watched the band we had come to see. By this point Dickie was well on his way and had already smashed a pint glass however blamed it on Dan. I did the same not long after yet no matter how many times we offered to help clean the glass up they wouldn't let us. Maybe they were afraid we'd try and stab them all or something, i don't know. Weird though. In the end we got asked to leave as they had enough of Dickie and his drunken antics ruining they're quaint establishment. No room in any cars for a lift back to Portsmouth we decided our only option was to walk into town and drink so we started strolling, everyone rejected something from the pit of their stomachs which was pretty sweet, syncronization. My memorys a bit hazy about the next bit but i remember getting in a taxi and offering to pay £85 to get to Chichester which to be fair would have been pointless anyway as thats not exactly close to the blue army. After lots of being dicks we ran off, why i don't know but it happened. Then i found some money so i thought id get some cheeky beers from an off license, god knows why but none were consumed, simply thrown at each other like little metallic parcels of fun. It won't be fun for the bloke who finds the one Dickie slotted through his car window, if your reading this, Dickies sorry. The kebab house was next, as we thought this was where we were staying we really dragged it out, 2 kebabs with some shite salad, Dan looking ready to vomit and Dickie thinking he's king fucking kong eating some super spicy hot chilli sauce that could have used to melt metal. I tried a little bit and my mouth turned to niagra fools and i was reduced to a dribbling mess, Dickie was eating it like it was chocolate mousse. 285856 pints of water later he chilled out, gave me and Dan a giggle though so in our eyes it was worth it. Found some fellas who pointed us in the direction of some boozers and off we went. Found 2 girls outside of Burger King, Dan loved them, they couldn't come with us although one of them was well up for it. They did look about 14 though so best not really, Dickie proceeded to dump tackle me onto a sign for no reason. Maybe he just got bored, fair play. Ended up in some place, was alright and open til 3 so it killed some more time. Me and Dan were about 3 sips into a pint and we see these mound of empty glasses on the table where Dickies just done about 20 Jaggerbombs to himself. After that he got a bit weird, walked off with some dude with a broken arm jus so the could get more money out of the cashpoint and buy him a Jaggerbomb too.This behaviour continued along with him buying the barmaid drinks, or so he thought, as she just kept putting his money in the tip jar. Unlucky really, she had a face like a slapped arse anyway. After they basically asked us to leave we decided to look elsewhere, finding a 24 hour bar /restaurant but not wanting to buy anything except booze which apparently is not allowed, we quickly left. Whilst im smoking Dickie and Dan have worked there way onto the top floor of the Travelodge and are sleeping in a corridor. Me meanwhile is left to walk in only to be greeted by some batty boy of a receptionist with bleach blonde hair and a fucking hitler tash. Im not the sort of person to stereotype people but he was a grade A cockrocket. Eventually Travelodge had enough and Mr Fritz found them two and kicked us all out. The 24 hour bar place looked our only hope so onward we marched with Dan trying to get himself arrested on the way simply for a bed. The 5-0 wern't feeling it so we left them to fight real criminals and went to fill our tumtums. By now funds were low so after squaring it with Dickie it was agreed he'd pay by card for me and Dan to get 2 breakfasts and 2 Stellas however with Dickie not even knowing his own name when the bill came we had to convince him AGAIN that paying for it was the right thing to do. Me and Dan got stuck in and had a deep chat about some bullshit whilst Dickie slumped semi concious in the corner. Making a breakfast and a pint last 2 hours is bloody hard work, even more so when you just want to sleep yet the train station wasn't open til 5 so we didn't have a choice. After nearly getting the boot from there due to Dickie being asleep we got a cheeky taxi to the station picking up a few more cold bevvies for the journey home. Met some absolute nutter of a german guy at the station who had been beaten up but was some ex boxer so apparently fought off 3 lads. Again, im not going to stereotype, but this fella must have been an ex boxer in like 1890, he was well passed his sell by date. He did wind me whilst showing me how he fought, a swift elbow to the stomach and my ice cold beer was on its way back up.Shortly after this i nearly got battered to death by some hench South African guy and his cage fighting mate. Dan had ran off to grab a fence post or some shit whilst me and Dickie saw our lives flash before our eyes. Im not going to go into details but we worked it all out eventually, he gave us a few muscle tips and some scare tactics so we're all set for next time. Eventually saw life in the form of a train however they only went to London with our train not arriving for another 2 hours. Fuck waiting lets go was the general thought. The planned slowly changed to 'we're going to Epsom to Dickies sisters house at liek 7 in the morning'. This plan was aborted when, after all falling asleep, Scrooge himself woke us up and booted us off the train for drinking, not having tickets, swearing, being abusive, and yeah. He made it all up to be honest, we just wanted him to fuck off so we could sleep as my stomach ran out of the room to hold anymore beer. Stuck in East Croydon our mission brief changed back to Portsmouth, after what seemed like an age a train arrived and 3 hours later i reached home soil. 6 hours later im still drunk. Epic.
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