Friday 13th. I should've known it would be a toughie.
The morning wasn't too bad in a dull as dishwater kinda way, but the carrot on the end of the stick was our usual dinnertime drinkie-poos in the private bar by the riverside a whole three minutes walk away from the workshop, out in the sunshine, watching the girls go by, etc. Only we got there to find the bar being pakced into a van along with the news that the Dockyard gave the brewery a week's notice to quit and we had no more pub
So we hurried as fast as our alcoholic little legs could carry us across a busy road to a "sports bar" with fear in our hearts, only to find it boarded up! Last resort was to stumble thirstily uphill to the arse end of beyond known as Brompton to the squaddie's favourite Golden Lion, which was, at least, open, and mercifully free of Royal Engineers. We had to stay an extra half hour just to readjust to the cosmic injustice of it all!
Meanwhile, awaiting a call about my new phone and number port without joy, I decided to ring the shop only to be told they'd forgotten all about ringing me - ta - and that although I could have me phone the port would now not happen till 18th June. 2-5 days me arse, it's already been eight.
And then get home to find cat sick all over the living room floor, shitty free newspapers everywhere and soaking up more sick, and the sudden realisation there was no beer in the house! One quick shower later and I put my foot straight through the leg of my baggies somewhere in the vicninty of the Netherlands, so there's no wearing them in public any more.
Things can only improve by visiting several high street boozers whilst avoiding knuckle dragging scum...
The morning wasn't too bad in a dull as dishwater kinda way, but the carrot on the end of the stick was our usual dinnertime drinkie-poos in the private bar by the riverside a whole three minutes walk away from the workshop, out in the sunshine, watching the girls go by, etc. Only we got there to find the bar being pakced into a van along with the news that the Dockyard gave the brewery a week's notice to quit and we had no more pub
So we hurried as fast as our alcoholic little legs could carry us across a busy road to a "sports bar" with fear in our hearts, only to find it boarded up! Last resort was to stumble thirstily uphill to the arse end of beyond known as Brompton to the squaddie's favourite Golden Lion, which was, at least, open, and mercifully free of Royal Engineers. We had to stay an extra half hour just to readjust to the cosmic injustice of it all!
Meanwhile, awaiting a call about my new phone and number port without joy, I decided to ring the shop only to be told they'd forgotten all about ringing me - ta - and that although I could have me phone the port would now not happen till 18th June. 2-5 days me arse, it's already been eight.
And then get home to find cat sick all over the living room floor, shitty free newspapers everywhere and soaking up more sick, and the sudden realisation there was no beer in the house! One quick shower later and I put my foot straight through the leg of my baggies somewhere in the vicninty of the Netherlands, so there's no wearing them in public any more.
Things can only improve by visiting several high street boozers whilst avoiding knuckle dragging scum...
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
nixon:
Jesus, man! At least my day improved after the blender incident. Although you remind me that I haven't had a drink yet, even though I hit the liquor store earlier. But that's for yummy strawberry and ice cream daiquiris tommorrow.
chubbles:
damn that shitty shitty day 
still, its now saturday and the sun is shining!!!! yes, that really means jackshit when you too skint to drink in the sun.....................
still, its now saturday and the sun is shining!!!! yes, that really means jackshit when you too skint to drink in the sun.....................