Tuesday, September 2
Alcohol, Violence, Football, Mowing The Lawn, Stunts And Gangsters
That would make a hell of a good film. And don't say I never warn you about the content of the rest of the post...
Another post in arrears I'm afraid, but hey, at least I tell everything EVENTUALLY.
Righty, starting where I left off last time, I said that I was going drinking on Saturday, starting early and getting paralytic. That never quite happened. We didn't actually start until gone 7 in the evening, rather than 2 in the afternoon, but at least we got going. It wasn't a particularly heavy night to begin with, just me and Eddie down one of or locals for a couple of pints. We met up with a few mates from school that we hadn't seen in a while, chatted away with them for a bit, then headed off to another pub.
One quick thing about the conversation at the first pub. A mate of mine, Robbie, was saying about how he went to Leeds for the festival recently, and that his favourite band there was The Darkness. He started saying how much he liked all of those kinds of band (Electric 6, Tenacious D, etc) because their music was ironically funny. Why the fuck would you want to listen to ironically funny music? I want to listen to good music, not crap music which is popular because it is ironic. Fuck that. It's strange, because usually it's me and Robbie against the rest of the world with regards to our musical tastes. We're pretty similar in most areas, which is why it's strange that we should be so polarised concerning this genre.
On with the rest of the night. We rolled into Buds around about 11.30, and found everybody else from our group of mates that we hadn't met up with already. A fair few bottles of WKD later, a few of us meandered over to the shots bar. Here, they have all kinds of weird and wonderful spirits for the low low price of £1. Hurrah. We lined up a few different ones (Soho, Advocaat, Dooley's) and knocked them back. Then we did the same again. *shudders at the thought of how many alcohol units were consumed* That Advocaat stuff is really nice actually, never tried that before.
The end of the night, and everybody made their way to Acropolis. I was sitting inside (which is the most cramped place imaginable), chatting away to another old schoolmate that I hadn't seen in a while, when some guy outside said something or other. Not sure if it was directed at me or what. I may even have been the first to say something, I'm not 100% sure. My mouth runs away with me when I've had a few, and I tend to get very sarcastic towards random people. Anyway, he threw himself through the doorway and went for me. My mate Phil leapt up and shoved him away, and they started squaring up to each other. A few people in Acropolis told them to take it outside, which made good sense since there wasn't room to swing a cat, never mind a fist.
They went a little way away from Acropolis, and I figured that I'd better go try and calm things down, since it was because of me that this whole situation erupted and escalated. This other guy tried to stop me going down there (I think he was mates with the aggressor), but I got it through to him that it was my fault, so I should go sort it out. He was cool with that, and I was just about to go down to where they were still squaring up to each other when another guy jumped in front of me. He was a lot more aggressive in telling me that I shouldn't go down there, but I tried to explain my reasoning again. I didn't swear at him, I didn't raise my voice or get angry, and I definitely didn't get physical with him.
So, he hit me in the face. Full-on punch to the left side of my face. It didn't knock me over, and I didn't hit back. It didn't even hurt to be honest, although it probably should have done. I'm hard, me (ahem). I think he wandered off or somebody pulled him away, whatever, but by that time Phil and the other guy had stopped whatever it was they were doing. It was then I remembered that I had ordered food in Acropolis and hadn't got it yet. Stupid boy. I went and got that (cheese and chips), and when I came back out, the first guy (you keeping track of all the guys?) was there offering to shake my hand. I took it, and that all got sorted out. I think the other guy (the one that hit me) shook my hand too, but not 100% on that one.
It turns out that the guy who hit me was called Bishop, and was known by everybody all over town to be a violent bastard. He'd been in jail a couple of times for assault, and had just recently got out. Seems I was very lucky not to get beaten to a pulp. Whatever.
I found my mates, and we did the usual end-of-night walk home. A good laugh, as it always is, and when I got home I was pretty sober. I jumped on the computer, went to RAGE and did one of my most insightful and intelligent posts ever (ahem *deflates ego*). For some reason, I was defending France, and criticising both the media and the US. That's been a pretty good debate, actually. Go to RAGE to read it, in the Politics section.
Sunday was a lazy day. No brusing on my face, probably as a consequence of the punch not hurting, thank God. That would have looked great, my entire left cheek being purple. I did some more housewifey things, and watched some football before going to play some football. My one submission to being fit that I do each week. I really enjoy it, playing with my mates and having a laugh about the previous night's events (we always play on a Sunday). You always get a couple of little bumps and bruises, but nothing major. Well, apart from nearly breaking my toe the other week. This time, Eddie chopped me down as I went past him, and now I have a beauty of a cut, bruise and lump on my shin. Bastard.
I was supposed to work all this week, doing the 8-5 shift, so I went to bed relatively early on Sunday. I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling completely exhausted for some reason, and I made the decision not to bother with work this week. Fuck it, Baileys screwed me over last week, I'll do it this week. It had something to do with a list of things that I have to do this week before my family get back (wash the car, mow the lawn, hoover everywhere, clean the toilets), and like I said, Baileys being bastards. I figured that it was around 5am that I made this decision, but when I got out of bed, I saw that it was closer to 3am. The reason why I was tired was because I had barely slept. Fuck it, I'd made a decision and I was going to stick to it.
A lie-in on Monday then. I like getting out of bed at midday, it's cool. Dossed around for an hour so, watching football highlights I think, then I finally got the energy to get my ass into gear. I mowed the lawn, did some more clothes washing, and dusted the living room. That's 3 from 10 jobs done so far. Tomorrow is hoovering and washing the car day. Possibly cleaning the toilets rather than the car of the weather is crap. Oh joy, toilets. It's been quite funny the past few times I've had the house to myself: The first time I was left alone, my Mum complained when she got back about the kitchen floor being nasty, and about the lack of washing that I had done. So, last time they went away, I made sure that the kitchen floor was clean and that most of the washing was done. She promptly complained about the toilets. Dammit. This time, I'm making sure that I get everything done. Except the ironing, because I can't iron for shit.
There was nothing decent on the TV tonight, so I popped down Blockbuster to get a couple of videos out. I grabbed the Jackass Movie and Bowling For Columbine. Eddie came round to watch Jackass, which was just as funny as in the cinema, but I had noticed that Pulp Fiction was starting at 11pm on a Movie Channel, so I sat down to watch that rather than Bowling For Columbine. Definitely worth it, that film is so, so good. I think that's the first time I had sat through it all in one go, even though I had seen all of it a few times before. I just like the way they keep going on about the "Royale with Cheese" in French McDonalds. Is this true? Anybody French visit this blog?
And that about sums it all up. *checks title to make sure he covered everything* Yep, sorted. It's 3am, time to go to bed. And next time, I promise I will post a lot more promptly, to save you the effort on reading a huge long post. Well done on finishing it if you've got this far.
