Nihilism is the only thing that gives my life purpose.

Friday, 12 June 2015

That place with the hills.........

Get me home I’m soiled.



Well here we go again Jamie and I hitting the states with no intention other than to laugh at them, well that’s not strictly true, Jamie did have a little bit of running and swimming shit to do.So we smashed into T2 at Heathrow full of pretentious people buying pretentious shit at pretentious prices, we had a coffee and a 3.99 price deal from WH Smiths. Planer on time , always a good start, obviously it wasn’t going to get any better, on board and I notice no headrest TV’s, it seems that now you link in through your iphone/pad etc and stream movies straight off the web , a good idea in principle , however the battery lasts 2/3 hours and the flight 10……… Wankers what is the fucking point, FFS put the TV’s back in or provide power points you fucking useless cunts.

Anyway we survived the flight although I did miss the in flight chess game. Landed at SF and got a good look at all 4 terminals while our shuttle driver picked up every waif and stray the prick could find, even those that weren’t his to pick up. We got transported to our BnB and was surprised that I had fucked up and not booked the Friday, your mistaken I politely replied in my just been stuck on a plane for 11 hours voice, no problem he said the room was vacant and awaiting us, I honestly think that statement saved his life along with the fact that his name was Zimmerman.


We unpacked and decided on a plan of action…… we didn’t have one I won’t lie, but was instructed on all the kicking areas surrounding our abode by our host and his advice was taken and we went for a late afternoon stroll around the historic Alamo district of San Francisco, upon reaching the peak of Alamo park its self we both decided it was fucking cold with the wind biting through you up there so headed to a pub ‘ Mad Dog in the Fog sounded the ticket so we traipsed through Hayes valley only to realise that upon consultation the map said lower haigh was where we were supposed to be so off we went and soon discovered it 2 pints of Guinness later we headed back to the room for the evening meal in the restaurant opposite Alamo fish and grill…. Fucking luvvelly jubbly if your in the area try it , its fucking awesome. Hit the offy and retired to the room for a nights kip and a busy day ahead.


Saturday,  We had breakfast, a rather talky toaster affair  the bread was artisan , poncey , but bloody tasty unlimited tea/coffee and we hit the city centre to secure the servive of a two wheeled apparatus that J would need to do some charity shit, took the 2km stroll into the centre of SF and had a mooch got offered some ‘Cookies’ WTF and also witnessed a drug deal on the street , broad daylight so if you want some weed just head to Market Street around the Hotel Renoir and score a plenty , the smell of weed is fucking everywhere I shit you not you can’t walk a 100 yards with out getting the rather nice aroma drifting up your nostrils. Well we got the bike and also secured some pedals as numbnuts forget his, and them the bombshell, ‘ we just need a credit card for the deposit ‘ haven’t got one will a debit do ? ‘ not really as it freezes your money up to 72 hrs. Cue big bro to the rescue as he palms over Nationwide’s finest  and then he took a deep breath as the hired help says lovely that will be $1500 don’t worry you’ll get it back once bike is returned. That bike then took on legendary status, I would of died for that bike, as we walked past the homeless and mentally deranged of which there was plenty to choose from , that bike was my baby , my flesh and blood my sole purpose for existing. We safely got it back to hotel and into the room and J took up his position as social media expert and updated every thing he could think of.It was around this time that Fraser got in touch and passed us onto Ellen who would show us SF in all its glory and some Yoga pants, didn’t know what they were and still not 100% sure , Ellen’s advice was Union Street not square was where all the yoga pants hid out , got the impression these were worth finding and it would be in our best interests to find them.

Roundabout 3pm J starts testing his bike you know the routine brakes , pedals , saddle chain and all that technical stuff and then tries to attach his shoes to the pedals, tries again ,and again, and now even I’m worried 20 to 4 we need to be 2 miles away by 5 and you have realised your shoes don’t fit the pedals, a frantic search of the net and a phone call and relief theres a shop a mile in the other direction that can help, off he runs while I sign up to UBER ( very impressed at the moment) J turns up at 4-15 and the taxi is right behind him get down to the course , signs his shit in a tent and I drink sierra Nevada whilst he listens to a talk on running stuff and shit, to be honest I shut down when people esque the joys an running and stuff….whats the fucking hurry prick, walk take in the surroundings and admire the beauty of whats around you. Tosser. Anyway we walked back and took in Union street not square and not a sight of these elusive Yopga pants, and then it was time for hill up Fillmore street Fuck its like setting fire to your hammies although walking backwards helps a bit, not been to SF then you will never understand it. Italian was the call of the day J needed his pasta and carbs , nothing special passable at most, headed back to room for 6 pack and whatever we found on the TV, me I was well looking forward to the morning when I could tidy the room and not look like some sort of twat whilst doing so.

I awoke to a note saying see ya later, and had breakfast with every intention of taking the hill again until that was, the 22 bus stopped outside the hotel, jumped on that and got off at union street not square and took up the hunt for these yoga pants, Ellen you lied !!!! not a pair in sight , but there again still got no idea what they look like brought some garlic tray thingy and took my spot at the finish line and realised got no idea what he is running in so will have to be on the ball if going to get any photos of him, well I waited and waited , his facebook updates told me he had finish cycling but no idea where he was , did I have time for a quick pint? What about a piss ? Then this vision of Adonis comes sprinting down the taped off field that served as the run in,he was  that fast was he flying? even Achilles would not of caught him. Nor would of David Bailey have got it on tape.

Friday, 9 January 2015

1st we take Aldershot....Then we take Madrid.

So there I was thinking that,  Madrid, 4 days gonna be so cool, then I had a brain wave , little sis is 40 this month,that would be a nice thing to do,and so  it seemed as Mini Molly tagged along with me and J to sunny Madrid, fucking sunny Madrid ,fucking 26 degrees Madrid, where the fuck did that come from. My only concern was that I hadn’t packed shorts and couldn’t be bothered to repack, ginger J had more pressing concerns; of the fuck this is gonna fry me to a crisp no sun cream concerns, mini molly just grinned a lot and licked the windows as we passed them.

Met up with Molls at the airport as J had decided that he hadn’t had any cock from Stansted so went from there instead, a couple of beers in the airport, well I did Molls had a half a shandy and complained that she was pissed already, she fucked off for a fag and non smoking yeah read it bitches non smoker me went through and waited for easyjets finest to get us to where we were going, this they duly managed and there was young J all cocked out and waiting for us, didn’t even  go through customs just sat at the bottom of the stairs like an unwanted step child. Fortunately I had pre warned him that mini Molly was on the war path, not only had EJ made her check her bag due to space issues they only went and let the 4 guys a dozen back in the queue take theirs on. That was enough for the girl from Ash to remember said fact and she unleashed a tirade of filth and abuse onto twitter world, only to receive that condescending reply that EJ was sorry for fuck all and hoped it hadn’t ruin her flight, her  flight ,J and I will be getting this shit for four days. Any ways picked up bag and allowed her to cool off as we made way to the metro and grabbed tickets to our new place of abode, Sunny Sol, or as now the corporate whores have got hold of it….sunny Vodaphone Sol. What a crock of shite we going to get Soho sponsored by durex now or maybe UKIP want to put their name on Tower Hamlets .

I digress, hotel was invaded showers abused and town hit, and when I say hit , it was a fucking train wreck when we retired there was a dancing a plenty as Molls showed off her best Egyptian  moves, J was chucking a fine groove and I was swaying from the alcohol being consumed, mix this in with Tapas, Daisy Duke’s rather fine derrière-more and I mean a fucking lot more about that later and it was obviously going to be a great if rather messy affair, mix this in with the ripped doormat inside the pub and cheering people on as they tripped over it was a tad cruel but Oh so fucking hilarious, not really sure how or where we ended up as we wandered around the backstreets of Sol, but we had establish a mean group of bars, well up for anything, affectionately known as dead Cow(had one stuffed in the bar), butchers( about 500 pig legs hanging from the ceiling, plastic(Albanian owned Paddy pub) and the lesbian bar( rather fetching mosaic kind of pictures on wall of naked women and skeletons. Death and shagging always going to be popular with me and the barmaid had me in a lot of trouble found her rather fetching), no idea how we got home or what time but can assure it was fair to say the next morning we were hanging..breakfast was not a pretty sight.

Hit the streets after breakfast and J was immediately in trouble, this ginger was not gonna make the evening, we had to get him cream, which we did, duly smothered we wandered down Grand Via and hit the Prado, lost Molls after the first room, caught up with her later not sure what they thought of it, but hey I was the only one with a plan , they can follow …or not  , though to be fair it did tend to change on an hourly basis and tonights was to watch a banjo man band we had seen advertised on the net, so off we set 8 ish to this club only to be told come back in a couple of hours as no one here yet, so we roamed the streets like scallywags of yesteryear all dressed up and nowhere to go, think we ended up at the Royal palace and meandered around there for a bit , deciding on where to eat was a bit torturous, have to admit I thought we were far enough from the tourist area for something good but no, average food, wine ok ox tail was passable but that was all paella looked crap and the presentation on the lamb was well, bollox.The bill came over and had, 6 euro for bread on it , do I need to go on, do I ? No, I think you get the picture, Molls felt guilty at picking that one so gallantly stood the bill.Anyway we toddled off in the general direction of Sol and found a street we recognised and made our way up to the club, at this point Molls had hit the wall and there was no second wind and she bailed, Banjo man would have to forgo her presence tonight, Me and  J hit the club (Costello after the great man himself, top of Calle de la Montera). Our timings were spot on for a change…..see lose the chick and everything goes like clockwork and 5 minutes later we were watching the band (Tom’s Cabin) apparently the drummer is well fit, but was hidden from my view by the singer , smashed that for an hour and made our way back to the backstreets around the Hotel , but then we bumped into Daisy Duke and that ass, shit have no idea how to describe it other that to say that mini Molly was impressed with it, last nights attire was a jean short thing, tonight she was on fire in what I can only think was a thong, maybe shes had plastic surgery on and it was part of the deal to display her work as often as possible, but its fair to say that I could of watched that for a while , but it was only midnight and there was drinking to be done . So hit the cow bar and free feed for a couple then onto plastic only to find the fuckers had put another doormat on top to cover the rip and there was to be no tripping up and raucous laughter from our table tonight, but the wheat beer was fine ,the sports was on and a few of the sights were of a daring nature .

Saturday was match day so a walk in the Retiro Park  and a trip to the Berna beu was on the agenda, obviously after yet another late night we were behind on the timings and did not get to the park till midday , a pleasant afternoon spent strolling around there and then back to the hotel, I say a stroll it was 4 hours later that we got back, Molls is officially 2 inches shorter and no longer has to worry about buying shoes as she is down to stumps now. Me and J went off to the stadium to sample the atmosphere while Molls rested up and waited for her feet to grow back. The ground is a bit special , unfortunately our hope of getting tickets was far outweighed by the fact that we had no fucking chance of getting them , reminds me of my love life, so we headed back to Sol to watch the game.

Eventually found a bar that wasn’t charging to get to, we settled down and watched the first half , wandered off to another to watch the second and returned to the hotel. Quick clean up and an hour later we were hitting the bars again with Molls in tow, had a couple in the lesbian bar and much to my enjoyment the cutie was there so had a couple of sangria’s and  a beer and set off for food. I will be taking all the credit for finding it , the three of us were fed and watered for less then 30 euro,half of last nights bill and far better quality as well. Even better was the fact that J was quite oblivious to the toilet paper stuck to his shoe as he traipsed up and down the streets of Madrid, oh we did laugh.

We headed down to the dead cow bar ,where Molls being Molls and from Ash proceeded to get glassed, no not really, some guy smashed one on the counter by accident, Molls got covered in glass and J got covered in its contents, my face was covered in a great big grin and it was a struggle to keep the laughter to a minimum.

Molls bailed shortly after that and me and J hit the bars again and went looking for daisy but to no avail she was no where to be found.

Sunday was planned, but apparently I am more fleeting than the weather and we ended up at the indoor market ,Mercado San Miguel  , lovely place and fair to say if me or mini moll was more confident with our Spanish we would of sampled the numerous eateries inside.

Anyway headed off to the outdoor market and it was big, but same old same old. Had a mooch around then back to the room for a clean-up, well I did the other two had two hours of social media to catch up on.

We had talked about getting to the Templo de Debod at sunset as the views are supposed to be amazing but obviously keeping in the tune of the weekend we were late and it was dark when we got there, a few mini pyramids and an even smaller  museum , but very interesting a few photo shoots and then getting the kids in trouble as we tried wall climbing and them being kids tried to emulate us.

Headed back for food at the same place as the night before,then headed into the bars, Molls took an early one and J and I drank and said farewell to the bars that had kept us amused for the 3 nights.With an early flight we retired and caught our flights without any mishap what soever , even with mini molls with us.

I had a great time and thoroughly enjoyed showing my siblings around my favourite European city, so fuck you Nigel Farage.  The only disappointment was finding out me super strong non prescription painkillers are now prescription only, so no more nights getting off my tits on two pills and a pint.

So until this summers road trip around the states, its goodnight from me.


P.S.  Mini Molly has a thought or two so heres her take on our shenanigans…….


Well what an offer from big bro. Fancy 4 nights in Madrid sis? being that your 40 and all that!  Chewed his fecking arm off,  course bruv I said...casually.

Met at Gatwick, me being there about 3 hours early, hogging the smoking area. Expecting a call to say outside having  a fag E...he fucking gave up smoking...again!! That's me with the 500 metre dash in and out before departures.

Wont mention  much about them not letting me take my case on because the 3 cunts behind me were obviously  more important. The Spanish girl freaking out was giving them enough grief  anyway.

Seatbelts on off we go. 2 marmite rolls and a pack of haribo later we land in Madrid. Ian knows his way so i followed in the style of one of the seven dwarfs as this was obviously going to be the theme til Monday.

Great  to see Jamie, he's fully grown. Kept thinking i used to wipe his arse when he was a baby. Got told off foe calling him gay on Facebook. Apparently  this holds more weight coming from family.

Don't  want to hog Ians blog so i will try and keep this to a minimum.

Bags dumped, Tapas bae located. Unidentifiable tapas ordered, we all thought the same but were polite  enough not to say anything. 1 small beer..then a second..that  was me done..giggling like  a 15 year old on 20/20 outside the window running back and forth  throwing  some moves to amuse the boys. Hid round the corner to remove the snot bubbles that  i was producing...had to keep it cool :) needless to say it was a messy night but thoroughly enjoyable..

Museum next day worth hangover that hinges on sickness ar any minute. I did well. Got to know the cafe inside out. Sat with head in hands with American know it all knob jockey spouting how clever he was next to me. The restraint in not telling him to fuck off to another table to loud boring cunt admirable.

Think we met the aptly named daisy duke that night. Whether she was on duty or just out i will never know. The boys had their tounges firmly slapped onto their chest in awe of what i can only discribe as an arse i would have bitten. We looked out for Daisy every night.

Conversations you shouldn't  have with your sister. .yep Ian is the winner, the line i drew was crossed like a game of hop scotch.  I shall take them to my grave. I have no idea why he is single?

We were  on the 3rd floor so i took lift down each time. Jamie thought it hilarious to run down to floor 2 to push the button before  i got there. Nice one J! Funny EVERY time.

Coffee was great. Slightly addicted by the time we left and withdrawls by time i got home. Breakfast was pizza so i gave that a miss each morning. Just watched the boys..don't  know how people do mornings.

Couple of tarts as well had to wait for them  to get ready each night.

Plans...ian makes them and then changes them. End of quote.

Did loads, saw loads..legs slowly  growing back from stumps.

Fantastic trip  all round and at a much needed time for me.

Cheers  brothers. You do me proud x

Thursday, 26 December 2013

Well Ladies and's been emotional !!!

 Past spinal, the last door on the left.

The box was just another remnant of a failed relationship, filled a few days earlier with a small percentage of his life, packed away and transported somewhere else. Never again he thought, not that this was the first time his whole life added up to just a few piles of boxes, belongings garnered over the years. In this case it was his love of football, fighting and other people’s women that led to this round of unpacking, but that wasn’t strictly true, she was always working. It was hardly surprising he had drifted back to his old ways, his single ways. C’ la vie he said to himself as he came across an old book. Wow this takes him back, as a couple of photos dropped out, he mused aaarh the summer of ’99…………….



…………It had been coming, he wasn’t surprised, relieved if truth be known. The past six months had been akin to a living hell, trying to talk to someone only to find no response, this from a girl you thought was the one, one you would have taken a bullet for, now you would duck and not think twice. Countless times the subject was broached,  countless times rebuffed with what was always pretty much Bull Shit, he knew it then and knew it now, but what could he do?

He no longer loved her, he hung around, not out of hope, he had to know, had to hear it from her mouth and then ask…… Why ?

Why had she allowed this to drag out so long, if she felt this way why not just say it, come out and make a clean break?

 Still he was no angel, roof over his head, free board and had had the luxury of having no one to answer to, for the past three months although sharing the flat, he was living pretty much the single life, boozing  and whoring, no, he was no angel.

After getting confirmation of the situation, the only thing he could think of was getting away, anywhere, he did not care, just anywhere but here. He was surprised that he felt anything like this; it was so over anyway, what was he fretting over? A whiskey or two and it was put down to a generalisation of splitting up and feeling rejected. Fuck it, and a phone call later it was booked. Seven days on Rhodes, no idea where, it was that kind of deal.

He had 24 hours to pack, raise some cash and sort out shit for the week ahead, wasn’t going to be a problem, she was good as gold like that, they may not have had a conversation for weeks, but she still collected his washing, cleaned and ironed, if it wasn’t for the lack of affection, a bit of a sweet deal this. So with bags packed  ready and waiting, it was just reading material to go, a glance up at the bookcase…Dovetosky….to heavy…. Hiaasen…. perfect….Behan…..yep…… Tressell…spot on ….. Haley….perfect for the flight, lastly he came across Salinger, always a favourite of his. Plenty of material there.  As he made to book a cab for the ride to the station, she showed him why he had thought so much of her as she insisted on dropping him off at the station to begin his journey.

The lateness of booking had its drawbacks 10pm flight begot a 4am landing, beer and wine were not his best idea. The last thing he remembered as he hit his room was a midday meet and greet at the bar and how crap this hotel seemed to him, never the less it had a bed, a big one at that.

Even on holiday Sundays had an air of disappointment  around them, maybe you could sense it in the poor fucks that worked in the hotel, but as he dragged himself down to the bar for midday and 30 minutes of pointless bollox,  you usually got a free beer out of it, at the very least a coffee. As the rep droned on, he immediately thought happy daze as the waiter headed over with two pints of freshly poured, ice cold Mythos. The euphoria was short lived as a pint was deposited on to his table, the other headed behind him and a female voice promptly thanked the guy in his native tongue. As the rep came to the end of a well-rehearsed spiel and looked round for any punters willing to pay three times as much for a waterpark trip than can be sorted with the waiter, she gave out an interesting titbit of information……. Do not ask for a large beer in the Gavros bar as it comes in a ‘yard’ glass and you are expected to at least try to neck it in one. At this the Greek speaking woman behind whispered , loud enough for him to hear ” sign me the fuck up”, he glanced over with a grin on his face and smiled. Late 20’s all the bits in the right places and proportioned accordingly, in the Yorkshire accent he had just heard her use ,he thought to himself very tasty that, very tasty. As seven days is a long time, even in Rhodes, and by her side was a bag of beach gear, he hit the shops to get some supplies, as he spent an hour or two hitting a few coffee houses and even locating the ‘Gavros’, always found it handy scouting the local area out, he knew from experience that you never know where you may find yourself in the middle of the night.

As he made his way back to his room he spied Blondie, lounged out by the pool, a quick shower and he was at the bar, small beer, and a sly check for a vacant sun bed in her vicinity. Pleasantly hot but not sweaty , he adjusted his towel, checking everything was as it should be he lounged away with Haley’s Roots and jumped in from where he left it on the plane.

It took her about 5 minutes to comment on his choice of reading, he was two sunbeds away in the full sun, while she had chosen a bed under an umbrella. Few of the other tourists were within ear shot, it was the end of season, early October and the hotel was probably half full at most.” Great book that”. “Thanks” he replied “always like reading it when flying,  you get so in to it time flies and your landing before you know it”.

With his glass now empty and spotting the B&H packet on the table next to her lounger, he invited her for a beer and a smoke at the bar. Her name was Jo , she was from Tadcaster and was amazed that not only had he heard of it he had actually stopped there  on the way back from York for a few beers after a night game, the story of him throwing bits of hashish on to the open fire and taking deep breaths as he  had ran  out of Rizlas brought a cheeky smile to her face, it was a few years ago he explained. Jo had never heard of Aldershot and sometimes he wished he hadn’t either. They retreated back to their respected lounges and made small talk, chit chat really, she was here on her own, just split up from hubby  and getting the last of the sun, not wanting to seem overly keen he made his excuses and retired.

That evening he headed off to the local town , bite to eat and a few taverna’s .

Deliberately getting back to the hotel early, if gave him time to check out the other guests and make out the lie of the land, he had found ambiances everywhere are difference, this one had its own make up of guests, he was the only single guy and with 3 or 4 singletons of the fairer sex it was fair to say result.

Within an hour Jo had returned with a French girl and a couple from Manchester, he spent the early hours of Monday with introductions and drunken talk and as the late night flight took its toll he hit the sack.

The next couple of days followed the same path, shower, afternoon by the pool close but not pushing it , conversations , sun worship and more conversation. Delphine came over said hi and in her French way we made the quintessential three some, even better she picked the bed next to me which drew Jo in to moving her umbrella in to covering all three of us.

All day Wednesday was spent by the pool as 4 o clock came Delphine said her goodbyes and left, at this point he reached into his bag and pulled out Salinger’s ‘Catcher in the rye’. It was his favourite read every question led to more questions, it’s such a great read, as she caught the title her eyes lit up and she reveals she is an English teacher back home .He wasn’t overly educated, what he lacked he made up with belief. Belief in his opinions, they would be tested now. What do you get from that book she asked ?  Well he replied throughout, Holden Caulfield rails against what he sees as frauds, everyone he doesn’t like …fraud, people he doesn’t agree with…frauds. Yet I have read this and the biggest fraud in the book is Holden himself! Jo smiled, it’s a good read and everyone who reads it comes back with a different opinion on what it means to them. The early evening drew in and  with it came debates on Voltaire’s black humour  , Nietzsche, Kafka and Dickens. They both thought Shakespeare was ok for the 16th century and Irvine Welsh was a god. It was then,  as they packed their towels away that Jo invited him for a meal with Delphine and the Manc couple, the guy was Greek and had been told of a great taverna up in the hills , he readily accepted and arranged to be at the bar around 9pm.

The meal was a roaring success , seated next to Jo the Retsina flowed, Meze kept coming and the conversation was not dissimilar to 5 old friends catching up after months apart . A few rounds of Ouzo, toasts and plenty of Yammas the group returned back to the hotel. As the boisterous group told stories of shite , Jo pulled him to one side and enquired as to his plans for the following day he lent back on his chair and calmly, even soberly told her. He had found a fishmongers and a shop selling portable BBQ’s, the plan was, weather permitting , to hit the beach with some Sardines , Bass, garlic, lemon, bread and  olive oil  for an Al Fresco meal , a few beers,  some wine and a swim in the Mediterranean. Nervously he awaited her response…. Got enough for two she came back with? Of course, meet me here about one and we will hit the beach.

He was there, knowing he had achieved enough he made his excuses and bid goodnight. It was dark as he exited his stairwell turned left and headed towards to his room, he was not alone.” Hi” she said  and gestured to his room. He had not spoken to this girl at all but her intention was made clear as they entered his room. Drunk but not bolloxed, he made a decision….. the next morning he awoke very early, there was a shape next to him, rushing to the bathroom he felt wrong, bad as well but very wrong. So wrong he woke her up and pointed to the door, she smiled, got dressed and left. Something was wrong, but only 8am, he went back to bed and slept. Waking up at midday he showered and  hit the bar. It was empty ,he was alone,  1pm came and went, 45 minutes later he hit the beach.

The next two days passed with no sight of Jo, but he had bigger fish to worry about, it did not take a lot of working out. As he hit the departure coach he was full of reflection, it was 10pm , something was wrong and then she was there, “ sorry about the BBQ, been busy ” she walked past him and took a seat at the back of the coach.

He never saw her again, he landed and got home very tired, but home, for now at least, but something was wrong, very wrong.

The following Monday,  he walked  past spinal injuries and took the last door on the left,  as a  pair of  surgical gloves and the   Q-tip reached the required depth into his urethra………….

……………. it hit him , and hit him hard.

 The four days of pissing razor blades…………

………..And as he sat in his new loft with a book, the  book in front of him,  J D Salinger’s ‘Catcher In The Rye’.

It hit him again.

He was the one that had fucked up.

He was the one that always fucked up.

So who was the biggest fraud now?


Monday, 2 December 2013

Closure: take out the U and theres a top album in there somewhere.

Well the next two days were just chilling in Caboolture with Phil and Lily before heading off to Brisbane to meet the guys.

Upon arrival at my digs in Brissy, I was met with a bottle of beer and a welcome back, how the horses treating ya? Sorted out phone and hit Chinatown to stock up on some bits and pieces, back to hotel, shower and into the International to meet up with the guys, a couple in there and it was into the valley to check out the scene ,which comprised of one in the Elephant and a few more in the Tempo whilst a battle of the bands type thing was being fought out. Once this was over ,it was actually quite good, we hit the Pig. It was half empty but a few brits around to chew the fat with before waddling off home.

Awoke bright and early smashed some breakfast and hit the town to see what was new, not a lot actually but it was bloody hot and the girls were dressed accordingly. The evening plan was to hit the local then into the Pig for the pre match banter, this was royally fucked up like most of the week’s plans, but why fret it, just go with it, everything works itself out in the end.

Met up with Ron and the others turned up in their own time, Pig was heaving so hit the Bavarian café and then the Exchange which made a pleasant change as had done neither last time. Beer, like in the UK , often precedes kebab and Brisbane was no different , top kebab just need to teach them that chilli sauce should have chilli as well as sugar in it, taxi back and await the big day.

Well it duly arrived along with a text from the boys informing me they are on the bus!!!!!! Was going to walk in anyway and 60 minutes later was outside the Gabba, which like most of the aussies that inhabit it, it is soulless, charmless just a big dome with no atmosphere, St Mary’s anyone.

Met the lads took our seats  and preceded to watch Cookie lose the toss, not good, looked like a motor way from our vantage point. Unfortunately the aussies seemed to think it was a mine field , apart from Johnson being bowled by a corker the other seemed to throw their wicket away…. Oh look Watsons still chases everything, Clarke can’t play the short ball, Rogers was a one hit wonder and who the fuck is Bailey ????

Warner looks a class act but looks can be deceiving , and Haddin is a class act but 8 down on the first day at the Gabba, would of ripped your arm off at the start of the day, so as I walked back to the station to get home, was well pleased with the effort put in, found happy hour in the Central hotel and went back to hostel for shower before hitting the clubs again, however, sitting in the sun all day had had a rather funny effect on me , and the next thing I knew I was waking up at  3am with a glass of wine next to me, drank the wine and went back to sleep dreaming of 3 day tests and centuries.

Day 2.   Well it started so well, knock the two wickets over in 5 overs and out came Cook and Carbarry little partnership going, stay there till lunch and we can sit here all afternoon with the playgroup on my left, and they won’t bother me at all. Well that was the plan  , and as we are all now to painfully aware Mr Lehmann has conjured up a rather nasty little plan to fuck us over, short pitched bowling and very aggressive actions throughout the match, and it worked a treat England were shocking , no answer what so ever and suffice to say apart from the 24 year old next to me, who shall we say had tits and arse to match, oh if only she wasn’t Australian, it was a truly shocking day and how the fuck did Lyon look like a world beater .Endured the cricket and the ritual that is ‘Pashing’( which involves guys shoving their tongues into someone’s mouth)I think it is like a mating thing ,you know like territory marking not that I blame him ,but even Australians have evolved a bit from that, anyway lasted till tea and caught up with the boys in the German bar, a few pints of Becks later and it didn’t seem so bad. Hit the central bar again and enjoyed the happy hour, yeah be happy only £5 a pint, have to admit the beer here is a much marked improvement on 3 years ago, but the cost is all so fucking familiar. Shower and change of clothes and we were in the Valley, did the usual haunts along with one called the Kaliber lounge , more like Cheeks, crap beer and sticky carpets, still there was plenty of flesh on offer even if most of it was Andy P’s.

Woke up with, well lets be honest here , a wee tiny hangover. Decided to take the day off from getting baked, and have it large in the TAB, which I did and wished I hadn’t, back to hostel and spent most the night drinking Samuel Adams and Tatachilla , chewing the fat with all the other England fans, witnessed a magnificent thunderstorm which briefly raised the spirits and had an early night determined not to awaken with such a banging head. Mission was accomplished but could still not face the taunting of the locals so decided to be all cultural instead and took in the art museum and few other arty farty things around the South bank, which was actually lovely, managed, before the storms, to get back to the room and watch the game ebb to and fro , from wickets tumbling and the rain falling, Root looks a little battler and the looks between him and mitch were gems, but it was never going to happen and a sad end to the day as England capitulated.

As for the sledging, what happens on the pitch should stay there, Warner should think before he speaks, what the fuck am I saying he’s Australian for fucks sake. Bailey the little cunt should learn to keep still when fielding at short leg, it was that cunt that started it all, watch it closely and you will see him moving as Mitch bowls and his shadow right on a length, moves all over the place, Jimmy picks up on it and has words, Clarkie gets involved and then it all goes tits up. The umpires should of seen it and sorted the muggy little cunt out straight away . I have no doubt England will be a lot mentally stronger at Adelaide and put in a better shift.

Sunday night was a charity night down the Pig so arranged to meet the lads at 8 and enjoy the camaraderie, and like all my plans that week it fell to shit. Still it was a top night with cracking company and a couple of local ladies who enjoyed the banter and oh so the constant attention they were getting from the BA lads, me , well was bitten once and just chilled with it all. Have to say Aggers is rather a splendid bloke and the geezer with the trumpet is top drawer as well. Had far too much ale and potted off home, all packed and ready to go.

Checked out the next day, met Phil and hit Caboolture, like good little boys we played house, looked busy and when the wife came home, ran errands and purchased ourselves curry and beer, which wasn’t bad at all.

Tuesday meant the arrival of Andy P who’s ambition before he flew home was to see a kangaroo, Phil with his insider knowledge knew just the place they like to mob up at. Sure enough there they were , so we scoped the area, went for a beer and planned our secret attack on their manor, well I say attack it was more like a full frontal assault on their patch ,which unfortunately led to 3 of Aldershots finest being put firmly in their place by a roo and her Joey, there were these pasty looking fellas running and hiding behind a car as this 3’ high individual stood there and beckoned us forward, oh if only we had a forth, we could of surrounded it and laid into the roo’s main firm , but there wasn’t. As we hightailed it out of dodge the relief of surviving was palpable, not a word was said all the way back home, nor will it be spoken of again. We decided that BBQ and beer would wipe the memory of this debacle, so sat down and scoffed , which is a pretty accurate description of what occurred, a couple of hours later and Andy was airport bound and Phil was breaking full bottles of beer everywhere, whether this was born of frustration by being done by a solitary kangaroo, well, we will never know, suffice to say it was a sombre evening of you tube and new music.

On a happier note The Skints and The Supernovas now have a Brisbane fan club, should they ever wish to visit. The plan for Wednesday was drawn up, Factor 50, fishing, food and then an evenings entertainment at the trots or harness racing as they call it here, so the rods were checked and checked again, a few practise casts and the great white hunters were all set. A beer or fourage was in order so err, we did.

Morning arrived and a BBQ sandwich was consumed, bait purchased and fishing spot found, what followed was well , embarrassing to say the least , it turned into a competition to see who could get snagged, lose bait/lures on the fewest occasions, pretty sure I got a beating a red headed step child couldn’t of survived, so with a catch as empty as my love life, we headed over to Bribie to pick up our chauffeur for the evening. This was achieved and after a shower we headed for the chariot races.

This was going to be painful, having seen it on telly I couldn’t work out what the fuck was going on. Nearest thing I could fathom out was that a pikey lad with his trackie bottoms and dealer boots would sit in a chariot and shout out ‘Yippee Ki A mutha fuckas’ and off they would run. Now this wasn’t far from the truth, but bloody hell I would not do it, no brakes and horses and chariots all over the shop, massive kudos to the guys and galls who do this, yes it is cowboy/girl country. It was a great night watching these wannabe cowboys getting nutted in the back of the head by the horse behind(the horses have their legs all bondaged up like, so can’t gallop just literally trot and if the horse infront slows, the one behind piles into the back of them, must be seen to be believed. Suffice to say in such a pikeyish sport I had a field day ,5 races produced 3 winners a second and a trifecta(also known as an exotic , as fucking if). This resulted in beer a plenty and a profit !!!!!

Found me a king sized tin of  GnT in the bottle shop on the way home and duly crashed once it had been drunk.

Thursday was my last day and as a dutiful guest volunteered to mow the lawn and cook dinner. Well the dinner was always going to be a piece of piss, Risotto, end of !! The lawn however , well that’s another storey, got the petrol mower started all right and 20 minutes later was back in the fridge for a beer, job done you may think, bollocks was it, lets just say 2 hours later and was still going, only ended up being saved by  a lack of petrol in the engine, that is one hell of a garden you got there Mr Canning.

Suitcase was all packed ,Risotto eaten and transported to the airport. Brisbane ,Hong Kong and then Heathrow.

So what was learned on this trip……….?

Firstly, I will always walk through that door that is left open for me by someone who immediately hides behind another. Then again that’s nothing new.

Secondly, the typical Australians obnoxiousness is mainly down to the fact that they are an island race that treats all foreigners with distain, not their fault, take a look at us and the rest of the world, what hope did they have?

Thirdly, come what may I have an inkling that this Ashes series will drag cricket back to an era that  they will both regret being in and whatever that wanker Warne is saying over there, he’s saying the exact opposite to his convict brethren.

Lost count but next comes the fact that I have now experienced a Queensland summer, fucking bonza mate.

Mr + Mrs Phil + Lily Canning are the real heroes of the show, for allowing me to crash at theirs and abuse their hospitality.

Will try to post some links here for the chariots and supernovas and George ‘the cunt’ Baileys fielding.

So now for May/June 2014, Nashville- Las Vegas baby, New Orleans……. Watch this space.

All the best.


Monday, 18 November 2013

If the Beatles had read Hunter.

Be care full what you wish for………

An old garage band favourite of mine once told me of ‘Something I learned today.’

Well my entry would be that Cathy Pacific are fucking slow with the drinks firstly, however that is not my only gripe, in fact it’s not even my biggest gripe.

That would be the fact that a) they serve Bloody Marys with gin FFS and B) seriously don’t fucking try it, it’s awful.

Akin to something you would give someone on their birthday, when the only reason you even bothered to show up was to marvel gloriously at the sight of them vomiting in the street, dishevelled and meaningless in their existence.


But I digress as ‘Hatful of Hollow’ is blaring away on the headphones, a few hours into a flight of twelve its dark already and I didn’t bring my watch or a knife, why a knife you may ask, well you tried cooking a meal for two with a bread knife , a truly horrendous thing, a serrated knife is a bit like Reading FC ;pointless. You end up slicing the ends off your fingers and as for the watch well fuck it hope HK is as cheap as they reckon.

See I’ve already waited too long, and all my hope has gone. Told you the Smiths were playing, but that’s another story.

14 days in Oz and I will have no concept of time, which will make a rather nice change to reality.

The plan is to stay soberish on the flight to HK, hit the beers in the 5 hour layover, sleep and wake up fresh and ready to party as I land in Brissy at 23-50, not a good or wise plan especially with the seating arrangements HK bound,  rose between two thorns is how I think Oscar Wilde would put it.

Meal for two, well I can fantasise can’t I…….your fucking right I can.5-0 whitewash can be added to that dream along with a rather tasty trip to Nimben.

So am now probably annoying my two thorns, what with the light on and all, but if that trolley dolly don’t get her facking arse up here soon I swear I’m going kill someone.

Well the drinks arrived, what with me playing it safe and sticking to GnT’s and me bestie next door risking bloody marys.It was a quiet flight only interrupted by the bestie and I ordering each other drinks , a few minutes of chat, then back to the in flight entertainment, which although plentiful was a bit crap to be honest.

She was off to Perth and upon landing what with her 7 hour layover, I suggested a trip to Macau and watch little people, went down like a lead balloon and she conveniently lagged behind and left me to my own devices, which consisted of paying $HK60 for a bottle of beer or two. The 5 hours passed by and was soon in a line heading for Oz,a Doris comes over and enquires as to which Visa I had, Visa I replied all shocked and nervous, only joking says I Visitors; here for the cricket then Mr Scanlon of course is there any other reason for visiting Australia? Inside I was in hysterics, inside she wanted to punch me, repeatedly I have a gift for reading women, seriously I do .

The book was out and a quick film’The Blind Side’ was the best I could find and Ms Bullock is rather fetching in the ‘this team is your family Michael ’speech, well I say fetching ;truth be known I would put it right up there with the last tango in Paris.

After my last run in with the keystone cops, sorry I meant customs officers, decided to tick the Yes I am a criminal box, lights flashing klaxon blaring am sent to the naughty boy queue only to be asked what are you packing? Not sure love it’s been redundant for years, well that’s what I wanted to say…it came out all wrong though, sounded more like Salt,Pepper,coffee and Tea. OK sir go to the exit your good!!!!!

I know can you believe it, not even a peek, maybe they have been sent on a personality training course, something along the lines of ‘Not every body thinks Oz is the greatest place ever,and therefore is not here to corrupt and fill our streets with narcotics.

So there was I awaiting my gallant charge to take me to my new residence, he duly arrived; an Adonis dressed in Yellow, well an Aldershot Fc away strip c2008/2009 season, god bless him. A few beers, internet code and that was me done for the night, 32 hours and am now the other side of the world, chilling with me cup of PG and a rather tasty salad, knocked up all myself, have informed the help that I am nearly out of milk and am awaiting their arrival to entertain me with tales of decadence and tribal Aussie baiting, Lily will be forgiven for being a native, there’s enough red wine dotted around the house with postal notes telling me to help myself, how can I not love these people.

Well that’s it for now, proofreading and posting is all I have on the agenda this afternoon.

Bye Bye for now.


Wednesday, 23 May 2012

Well I`m definately going to hell , but I`ll have all the best stories to tell.

So our last day in Boston was to be a walk up to Faneuil place ? up to Harvard and then a trip to Boston’s museum of fine arts.

These were all ticked off the list with the minimum of fuss, however I nearly lost the title of map reader number 1 but recovered nicely to even locate a 2nd hand record shop and a similar book store, don`t think James will let me in one of them again, like a paedophile in a kindergarten.

Husker Du collection now complete, along with Brendan Behan`s complete plays.

Had a bite to eat, but in all fairness was too fucked to go drinking, walked my little legs to stumps I did. So grabbed a six pack and settled down to a film in the room ready for the early start to Vegas baby.

Got to the airport, flew to Houston made the connection just !!!!! and landed in Vegas after 7 hours in two planes, 85 and gorgeous…….. God I missed the sun.

Taxi, and then check in behind a family of northern monkeys……..fucking retards.

Vegas……..where the fuck to start ?????????

Monte Carlo all same old same old as far as hotel concerned…MGM….NYNY all the bloody same, small but luxurious rooms nothing special and no hidden treasures , resort fees… what a crock of shite $22p/n for intermittent WIFI and a small bottle of warm water and no choice in whether to pay it or not….it`s a compulsory charge.

So showered and changed and off to see the Sirens of TI show , had to see it as been to pissed on earlier visits, so killed time until the start and ticked it off the list.

Headed back to the MC, believe we ate Italian which was pretty good and the off to the MC`s `the pub` for a selection of over 200 beers and duelling piano`s……

The beer selection was cool, settled for Mr Adams, although the Chimay special reserve at $750 a bottle was a serious contender ???????

The pianos were crap….bullshit kareoke and audience paying for them to sing a song….you give them $10 for American Pie , 30 seconds later they get offered $15 for something else and its fuck you, here’s Barbara Streisand.

Had a play or two on the slots and an early night ( I think) it is Vegas after all !!!!.

No idea what time we woke up just knew the plan was Walmarts….Gun Store and back to strip for Tylers ipad. Walmarts was a huge success got me new pants , you know the ones that only have leg holes were they are supposed to, and  a snazzy belt. Ended up dragging James away from the 4 litre bottle of Captain Morgans ($22 I think ).

Across the road to the gun place …2 zombie packages please…. Yeah cool the wait is 2.5 hours….errr no thanks.

So back on the bus and returned to the hotel dumped shopping and hit the apple store, got that all sorted. Back to MC and showered etc.

Drafted a few texts as knew would be to pissed later to send them, did fuck knows what and will just keep to the gooey bits.

Ate at the noodle place, crap end of, and armed with $140 , hit the tables, found a great greyhound racing game min bet $1 so place 2x 50cent bets 1st 2nd or 3rd and wait for the free drinks  , which duly arrived and kept on coming so me, J and the cartoon greyhounds got a bit drunk together.

Deciding it was blackjack time split me wad in half found a table and lost the lot inside 10 hands…not good. Had another wander …another table and we were sat with Karim from Canada on his stag night ( who had misplaced all his mates but not his cash, he had 100`s in front of him) and Embarquo and wife from Brazil. We then set off on a journey of discovery , just how far could we abuse the Casino, well 3 changes of dealer and countless blackjack drum rolls , high fives whilst shouting `Pay the table`, Karim cried off skint, me…well I started off with $60 and still had $45 in front of me so leg weary and absolutely knackered and blind drunk we hit the sack, unfortunately for me 30mins later awoke down at reception dressed in my new pants( no holes) and no idea where I was, the sudden reality hit me and it was Munch`s Scream….NOT AGAIN. Well it is Vegas after all and what happens there…….has all been seen before !!!!!!

Having been escorted back to my room with Jamie fast asleep had a crash and woke up at 14-00and decided the pool was the place to hide. Well we hid and blended in well with all the other pasty looking fuckers out there.

Had a bite to eat and decided that a quiet wander up and down strip was called for, this being duly accomplished and again settled down for wanky duelling pianos and a nightcap and an early night only for my bank to ring me at 2 in the morning CUNTS.

Anyway awoke on the Sunday morning to find a place to watch the footy, dressed and turned on telly only to find WBA v GOONERS on……with James jumping straight back in to bed we were set for an lazy morning, him watching the arse and me drinking coffee.

Boy does he get nervous !!!!!!!!

Anyway, with all the excitement of the last minute winner at Etihad we decided to give the zombie another go……………… Neither of us having fired a gun before, it was like having a 12” cock and a bevy of gorgeous ladies just dying for our attention, even forming a daisy chain to await our offerings…not wanting any foreplay and smothering themselves in essential oils ,calling us darling and actually meaning it. Sleeping in the wet patch. Everything. Despite a lifetime of drug abuse it was a better high then anything….well, maybe not cocaine.

So with targets safely tucked into rucksacks headed back to MC for another fuck about, repacked and wondered what the fuck are we to do for 7 hours after checking out on Monday.

Chilled in room for a while and decided I needed a Guinness. So had a meal in the MC first( the buffet……for future reference starving is a tastier alternative…God it was shite.)

But the NFI @NYNY did not let us down …a couple of hours and 5/6 pints later we found a $5 table and I unloaded my   $40 and off we went… well what a miserable experience that was…no I won… just the croupiers were both cunts,however a couple of attractive girlies sat next to me and one thought I looked like Jason Statham, things were beginning to look up, as you can probably guess its been a while since someone gave me a hug and kiss. That was until her mate called the pit boss a black bitch……. Game over for them two. We persevered and I ended up about$25 up.

I think its fair to say Blackjack is not James game despite downloading a blackjack table that gives you advice on what to play according to what you have and what the dealers showing.

We headed back to the MC, and as its now about 2a.m I realise we have to check out soon so off to blag a room extension…this proved easier said than done ….he just would not budge and it was final, if I want to stay it will have to be by paying another nights rate and this would be $120.

That hurt, so hit the roulette, not my game, but was determined to have a go ….1st spin 5….$70 to me a couple later 27 and me again …another couple of spins and 5 again    COME ON !!!!!

That was the room paid for ( ish only won 60 in end…I think).

Off to bed about 3 or 4 not sure of that but woke up with the hangover from hell and that was a gimmee, I  had a very lazy day i.e stayed in bed all day till we checked out at 6ish straight to airport and flew off to San Francisco. Think James had a wander up strip,  you`ll have to ask him.

Have to say that I agree with the barman at the airport….Vegas has changed, when I first arrived they were finding bodies out in the desert every week and you had hookers giving head in the street…now you get a museum showing you holes and guys flicking out cards with phone numbers on. I have no real intention of going back unless to show some friends about and then a couple of days is enough…party for 48 hours and crash…..that would be enough.

San Francisco.

All on time and caught the shuttle to hotel, 2nd drop off and the hotel was the bollocks, small rooms, only 1 bed (Fraser heaven), but they will move us to a twin in the morning.

Went for a drink only to be accosted by what proved to be the first of many pan handlers (beggar`s to you and me).We had come across loads of these on the trip but SF seemed to be the capital of `got 30 cents mateville`. America is struggling ,been here many times but not seen nothing like this literally every block corner has a resident beggar, Boston-LV and now SF, too many people are falling thru the crack and when that happens society here just disowns them, even brought a `Big issue` like rag and had a chat with the seller about it”Obama sucks , but the other guy is worst”   similar to the UK then mate. Gave him my leftover lucky strikes and moved on.

Anyway, an Indian restaurant had a bar and hid in there away from said beggar who did not seem to believe I did not have 30 cents. What a find this was, the barmaid was called Sunny(Thai) and two guys came in who worked next door, then followed 2 hours of copious drinking ,shots and anecdotes, it was a real scream and ended up leaving at 2a.m and crashing. 

James gallantly took the floor and we woke up about 9 ish, showered and let reception know they can move us when ready.

Left Union Square and headed upto Fishermans wharf to book up Alcatraz and to check out the scene, fuck me them hills are a killer, enjoyed the down bit and found a load of great looking bars close to FW, but to far from hotel. Hit FW ,booked tickets for Alcatraz and meandered thru the piers loads to see and do, unlike U.Sq and hit the cable car for a ride back.

Cable car fun first time, then best avoided as really slow and as we found out, a taxi was cheaper anyway.

Got back and went to hotel and they had upgraded us to a double, so top marks to them ( Hotel Fusion). Crossed the road to the Westfield shopping centre and brought fuck all.Into a 2nd hand record store and am now the proud owner of a Dresden Dolls DVD. Back to hotel for a chill and SSS etc followed by a couple of hours of Family Guy.

I think in all honesty we were both fucked by now 12 days on the road had taken its toll, we ate Chinese , went to the local Irish bar a few Guinness and then to same bar as before received a raucous welcome from Sunny and got drunk.

The End.

Woke up late and rushed for cable car to get boat to Alcatraz, it was rammed so got cab which was quicker and cheaper.

Alcatraz was great and interesting but best perceived without the hangover we both had. Went and ate chowder including the bowl which was way the coolest thing we had eaten, back to hotel via CC and web searched a steakhouse as I was becoming very carnivorous. Decided on a local Jazz house and ate there, the jazz was shit, but then I see no point in that music anyway, the steak was ok but just not in the mood for drinking so back to hotel, think a film was watched but just crashed and woke in the morning for a coffee and wait for shuttle back to airport. Which duly arrived and like most American airports SF was shit, maybe its an East coast thing as LA was even shittier.

Got on the plane and the cunting thing was older than me, entertainment centre consisted of 5 films on a loop so when one ended you had to wait for all the other to finish before you could watch another, total bollocks..,… and as for the two fucking dickheads behind us .!!!!!!!!

Talk was like this, why u travelling man,,,,, in a band on tour we play jazz,,,,, o wow I always wanted to be in a blues band  and do UFC me and mates practice all the time are u on FB,,,, no I don`t want fans,,,,,       this anal conversation went on for hours I was praying they would just shut the fuck up,    James wanted them dead along with all their relatives and every fucking cunt they know, I was worried that this might include us as we were sat in front of them, James ensured me this was not the case as we did not really know them….I felt having listened to 2 life stories I could confidently bring up their children for them.

A lack of sleep and eye candy  allowed us land in a totally unstable condition and the trip back home was more about the Wonderstuff then future travels although Uruguay was mentioned as the ante post favourite, popped in to see old mate,s dropped James off at biological`s and slept.

This is really the end, although once online will add some anecdotes esp about Boston being the most openly Gay place I have ever been , I know SF, go figure ,did not see one gay couple in SF , but Boston wow, have to say it made me feel proud to be somewhere that is so tolerant( poor choice of word as nothing wrong at all with it, should not need to be tolerated in this day and age ,but totally accepted) but it was beautiful man.!!!!

Also with hindsight would cut Boston to 3 nights LV to 2/3 and spend 4/5 in SF… so if you are planning a road trip out in the USA …ask James coz I`m shit.



Wednesday, 9 May 2012

If I can`t smoke or swear in court then I`m fucked !!!!!!

The nicest restrooms in the world, with built in wifi and TV…..amazing !!!
Had a lovely photo to go here, but hey ho proud to be a Luddite !!!!

Well it`s Monday so off we trot to the Samuel Adams brewery for a tour and a few free samples and in my case a new hoodie….god I love this drink !!!!!!!!!!!

Popped back to hostel dropped off glasses and shit and set off into the shop’s,  which to be honest were pretty pants, so went for a wander up to Boston common ,which is actually a park but hey ho.

Decided on Thai for food as the fish shop was rammed, mine was OK at best where as James` could of fed most of Darfur….so much so he left some….rare event trust me.

Back to Mcgreevys  and watched the hockey and baseball…got comfortably numb and waddled off home.

So awoke bright and early for the trip to Salem to find me a wicked witch to  cast a spell, and find me an exceedingly devious women to help keep me on the straight and narrow.

Now how the fuck do I start to describe Salem…….here goes…a town famous for the witch hunts of the 17th century now actually trades of the injustices done all them years ago…..literally every other shop is witch related, which(no pun intended) is great for idiots like me, you all know how I love the American psyche and their usual inability to laugh at themselves, whereas Salem is the exception as a lot of the shops are tongue in cheek and I think if it was a nice day it would have been a cracking day out.

Nearest thing I can think of, is the people of Hartlepool electing a monkey called Angus as mayor………. O wait a minute !!!!!!

So am now awaiting James to finally arrange a catch up with a friend of his from his backpacking days who is a Bostonian and maybe, just maybe might know of a bar here not themed on the potato famine or anything else Oirish.

In what can only be described as an eventful evening, I finally fulfilled a childhood fantasy and found myself surrounded my MILFS, remarkable as David Coleman would say, copious amounts of flirting on both sides, but have to say I won the double entendre race,even if she didn`t want to try my mussel as she had already had some… 17-30 not sure why I needed to know the exact time of said occurrence maybe it`s an American thing….I just assured her that in the words of Ronnie Biggs `No one is innocent….especially not  me!!!`.

I think it was about then she informed me she just had to have a video of me to show her daughter, was hoping she wanted to let the sibling know she could still pull, as am sure that unless I was her brother its illegal at 15 unless you are in South Carolina, unfortunately she had caught her smoking pot, would have been great……don`t worry love she`ll grow out of it……look at me ….I gave up last month !!!!!!

Anyway they left, but it was defo 1-0 to the limeys.

Had earlier met the delectable Ellen, think that’s how you spell it, who very courteously stayed and had a chat for a couple of hours catching up with James, believe we have arranged to meet up at Harvard Square later today….will await with baited breath as James is officially more laid back than me…..did not think it was possible but there I`ve said it.

So some advice for anyone coming to Boston, have a pint in Solas on Boyleston st. and just admire their restroom….makes the Red Lion look like a shithole, they are nicer than our room and smell better as well !!!!!!!

Popped off to Mcgreevys and found out that the Celtics got beat…..would of been my bet of the day, but plum forgot to have one, and from now on NO nightcaps…. apart from berating the taxi driver for going the wrong way…as if 2 dickshits like us know where we are going …James spending 10 minutes trying to find the key and being interrogated at the front desk to verify our identities … to me being rudely awoken at 04-00 to only find myself the wrong side of the door to our room dressed only in a very rough pair of underpants and not even bothering to bang fuck out of the door, just a few gentle taps before realising that there’s just no point to try and wake James so swallowed what little pride I have left and went down to front desk and feeling rather stupid explained that I went for a pee and forgot the key….they were very understanding and I just wanted to get into room and have a whitey.

So am now in lobby waiting for clothes to dry and watching the rain…..hard to miss so fucking  much of it .

Think that’s all for now.

All the best.

Me and Him