He drove the fastest milk-cart in the west...
The other night, I dreamt that I was playing the part of Benny Hill in a Benny Hill sketch.
Bikinis, sexy parties, innuendo and repressed sexual fantasies.
Sweet. RIP Ernie.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Pant, rant...
I need some new underwear.
More particularly, I'm trying to find a pair of superhero pants for myself. (Spiderman, hulk, fantastic four, but definately NOT superman because he's a twat). Can I find them however...? Well, as you've probably guessed, no!
I've seen them in shops before, so I know they exist(ed), but I haven't seen them recently and can't find them anywhere on the internet. I mean COME ON, surely somebody somewhere in the world sells Marvel pants.
It would seem that if I were anywhere between the ages of 4 - 12, I would have no problem in finding this essential item of clothing but because I am 30, I guess my demographic is not worthy of superhero underwear.
My quest continues...
Anyone with superhero pants knowledge, please get in touch.
I need some new underwear.
More particularly, I'm trying to find a pair of superhero pants for myself. (Spiderman, hulk, fantastic four, but definately NOT superman because he's a twat). Can I find them however...? Well, as you've probably guessed, no!
I've seen them in shops before, so I know they exist(ed), but I haven't seen them recently and can't find them anywhere on the internet. I mean COME ON, surely somebody somewhere in the world sells Marvel pants.
It would seem that if I were anywhere between the ages of 4 - 12, I would have no problem in finding this essential item of clothing but because I am 30, I guess my demographic is not worthy of superhero underwear.
My quest continues...
Anyone with superhero pants knowledge, please get in touch.
Friday, December 08, 2006
This is what you get, when you mess with us...
The other evening, I went to the Jamaican Eating House on Cowley Rd, to enjoy a few post-pub cans of Red Stripe lager with Seb, George and Sam...Every time I've been there, the landlord has decided to take exception to somebody (actually, that's always someone that's with me...), and this particular trip was no different to any other time. He decided he'd throw a strop because one of us was touching the fairy lights around the window. Hardly the antics you'd witness on 'Booze Britain', or 'Street Crime UK'...
Once I saw him go nuts because a guy removed a stinky ashtray away from his girlfriend and placed it on another table. Another time he flipped because someone held the door open for too long (in the summer!!), and yet another time he practically shit his pants because someone took a photo of their friends whilst birthday celebrations were being had. I mean, what is this dude's problem??? As if that's not anti-social enough, I have heard (through reliable sources), that he once almost puked from shouting at someone because they said 'thanks, dude', after they'd just bought a can from him...
Anyway, back to the original story.
After finishing my beer I decided to use the toilet before the walk home, and stumbled upon what can only be described as partially-digested, thrown-up chicken kebab, in the hand basin of the ladies toilet. Now I don't know who did it, or why they didn't use the toilet 1m to the right. I don't even know that it was a chicken kebab, I'd just like to think that some brave post-pub boozer had been pushed too far...
You know, over the edge...
I'd like to think they were pushed so far, that all they could do was puke in his sink...
The other evening, I went to the Jamaican Eating House on Cowley Rd, to enjoy a few post-pub cans of Red Stripe lager with Seb, George and Sam...Every time I've been there, the landlord has decided to take exception to somebody (actually, that's always someone that's with me...), and this particular trip was no different to any other time. He decided he'd throw a strop because one of us was touching the fairy lights around the window. Hardly the antics you'd witness on 'Booze Britain', or 'Street Crime UK'...
Once I saw him go nuts because a guy removed a stinky ashtray away from his girlfriend and placed it on another table. Another time he flipped because someone held the door open for too long (in the summer!!), and yet another time he practically shit his pants because someone took a photo of their friends whilst birthday celebrations were being had. I mean, what is this dude's problem??? As if that's not anti-social enough, I have heard (through reliable sources), that he once almost puked from shouting at someone because they said 'thanks, dude', after they'd just bought a can from him...
Anyway, back to the original story.
After finishing my beer I decided to use the toilet before the walk home, and stumbled upon what can only be described as partially-digested, thrown-up chicken kebab, in the hand basin of the ladies toilet. Now I don't know who did it, or why they didn't use the toilet 1m to the right. I don't even know that it was a chicken kebab, I'd just like to think that some brave post-pub boozer had been pushed too far...
You know, over the edge...
I'd like to think they were pushed so far, that all they could do was puke in his sink...
Having said all that, it is the only place on the Cowley Rd open late that you probably wont ever see any stray townie scum in...and for that, we should all be grateful.
Monday, December 04, 2006
I think I'm Starting to Peak Now, Al...
Just have to say many thanks to the lovely people who run the 12 Cowley Road Inn, for their warming hospitality and their intoxicative zest for the booze. Although I couldn't afford the Erol Alkan show at the Bully, I did afterwards indulge in the company of those that had been. I was literally swept off of my feet by Seb and Michael...and another night was spent on someone else's floor/bed/sofa...
Anybody that may have seen me in the Star during the week could be forgiven for thinking that I was in a state of zombification. I wasn't. I just smelt like a zombie. Rather than do something as hygenic as 'brushing my teeth', I opted (for 2 days) to instead test the human boundaries of Weston's Organic Cider consumption, (it's approximately 6 bottles). I also discovered (via Tim), the delights of strawberry beer. (Not a bad drink, just not as good as Cherry beer, and a damned sight more expensive).
After spending the best part of last week camped out on a bar stool at the pub, I finally reached my boozy-peak by making a scene on Friday night...so if anyone saw a water-based substance leaking from my eyes when I threw a massive whitey that night, they definitely weren't tears...I just got a bit of smoke in my eyes...No word of a lie.
Just have to say many thanks to the lovely people who run the 12 Cowley Road Inn, for their warming hospitality and their intoxicative zest for the booze. Although I couldn't afford the Erol Alkan show at the Bully, I did afterwards indulge in the company of those that had been. I was literally swept off of my feet by Seb and Michael...and another night was spent on someone else's floor/bed/sofa...
Anybody that may have seen me in the Star during the week could be forgiven for thinking that I was in a state of zombification. I wasn't. I just smelt like a zombie. Rather than do something as hygenic as 'brushing my teeth', I opted (for 2 days) to instead test the human boundaries of Weston's Organic Cider consumption, (it's approximately 6 bottles). I also discovered (via Tim), the delights of strawberry beer. (Not a bad drink, just not as good as Cherry beer, and a damned sight more expensive).
After spending the best part of last week camped out on a bar stool at the pub, I finally reached my boozy-peak by making a scene on Friday night...so if anyone saw a water-based substance leaking from my eyes when I threw a massive whitey that night, they definitely weren't tears...I just got a bit of smoke in my eyes...No word of a lie.
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