keep going with party tabs

Hopefully someone will slip one of these in my drink tomorrow when l am out and about in Middlesbrough. If they do, there will be no complaints from me.

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dodgy drinks at home

This is a picture of some pineapple juice that l left overnight a few days ago, as l had fallen asleep.  I was going to knock it back in the morning, but when l saw how it had all gathered at the bottom, it put me off doing so.
On a related note, l found some cans of lager in the spare fridge a couple of days ago that had been left and forgotten about.  They were only 5 years past their sell by date, so of course l opened one and tasted it, but it was hard for me to tell if it was OK or not, as the first drink of any lager usually tastes crap to me.  It did  fizz open, looked to be alright, and had been kept cold all that time, but as l had days off work ahead of me, l didn't want to risk getting ill, so l ended up pouring the rest of the can away (there are more left) .
Where the hell has my devil may care attitude gone?  Keith Richards would be ashamed of me.

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humans of new york and american tales

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stormin' norman whiteside photograph from the arc

It's only taken me since July of last year to work out how to get the Norman Whiteside photograph off my mobile and onto the computer, but here it (and he) is.  From the excellent 'gentlemens' night at the Arc.
It's about time Hammy got off his arse and arranged another one.

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some very drunk people

Glad to know l'm not alone in falling over.
From here

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a great advert for alcoholics

What a great idea for home drink delivery.  Of course it may be classed as distasteful (after all, alcoholism is an illness), but l find it funny.

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injuring myself like a drunken fucking idiot

 My knee after being cleaned up

My now filthy tracksuit top

 Some scratches on my face after being cleaned up

 My swollen lip after cleaning

My bloody nose just after l got home

I had a bit of a mishap yesterday evening, purely my own fault, as l am a fucking idiot.

I had been working overnight, and then in the morning, and called round to see Joe afterwards.  From there, l went to The Wine Bar, where l was pleasantly surprised to see Fred, as l had passed by a military funeral at Hipswell earlier in the day, and thought it could have been his, as he has cancer, is not well, and he used to be high ranking in the army.  I ended up staying out with him and others, and as l am trying to behave myself and not drink and drive, l left my car and decided to run home.  This may have been the slight flaw in the evenings entertainment, as l fell over about halfway home and pretty much landed on my face.  I obviously leapt back to my feet again with the reflexes of a meerkat and foolishly decided to carry on running, resulting in a second fall, with pretty much the same result.  What a drunken buffoon you may be thinking, and you could well be right, but that was not all.  When l eventually arrived home in my bloody and scratched up state, I went upstairs to clean myself up a bit, and then fell down the stairs.  It was like a one man display of top notch stupidity from start to finish.  The FPO had been house sitting at her parents while they are away on holiday, but we went to Richmond today to buy some books for my nieces birthdays, and she was openly laughing in my face at my cuts and swollen lip. I can't say l blame her, as l look like daffy duck at the moment.  My current injuries are:

Both knees scratched, swollen and sore

Both shoulders (and my bum) are sore from falling down the stairs 

Both hands scratched trying to halt the forward falls

Large scratches on my left cheek (plus it's swollen)

Scratches on my nose, and lip, plus my lip is swollen

Two scratches on my forehead, plus one small dent in my skull (again), and another cut on my scalp (again)

It's a good job my nose had already been broken playing football, and l am indestructible.  This sort of thing would have been the death of a lesser man.

Next time though, l'll order a bleeding taxi.

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the grand national bet

I hardly ever bet, but putting some money on The Grand National makes it that little bit more entertaining, and gives me some interest in it.
I was going to head to the pub for it, but l had been working overnight, was falling asleep at home,and the FPO came back from Tesco's with bottles of wine, so we stayed in for the race, then sat on the doorstep in the sunshine with Tubbs (the idiot rabbit), drinking wine (Tubbs abstained), like a middle class Andy Capp and Flo.
As for my bet, l know bugger all about horses, so l just chose some at random. People said l was a madman to pick such outsiders to win, and of course l wasn't successful,  but the eventual winner (Auroras Encore) was priced at 66-1, so maybe l should have been more daring with my £2 to win bets.
As usual, close, but no cigar.

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oxo drinking

I sometimes drink Oxo cubes in hot water, and love them. I am also from Liverpool, so this question on Yahoo made me laugh, as the 'He's from Liverpool' bit seemed to imply he was mad and explained everything (and it probably does).

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out in the boro (again!) - and mink

As it was Good Friday and it was a holiday for most, l went through to Middlesbrough for a lads night out with Robbo, Danny and Matt.  We drank copious amounts of ale,  talked a load of crap, and chilled out, all happy to have a break from work.  We hit some of our usual pubs around the Linthorpe road area, but ended up going to the Mink bar, by which time, everyone was pretty drunk (except me of course).  It was the first time l had been in there, and it was my kind of bar. Dark, plenty of people, live music, and a handy tattoo parlour if the hankering for an immediate tattoo strikes you (and it has me in the past). By then,we were also on the double Jack Daniels, Matty disappeared completely, Danny was told by the bouncers he was going to be thrown out and was refused any more alcohol, and he also disappeared as soon as he went outside. This left me and Robbo as the last men standing (bloody amateurs).  Afterwards, us two got a taxi back to Robbo and Kerry's, which we then had to stop so Robbo could get out of it to throw up, so only one of the hardy crew remained in one piece after the rock and roll madness - me.  l was rather amazingly, up pretty early (7am!) to get some coffee down before heading home, as l have work today and Sunday.  I had also been entrusted with the front door key by Kerry, as she didn't want Robbo losing the key and waking up her, Gill, Cairan or Chloe on our return, which was a success, but l ended up coming back to Catterick with it, as l left it in the back pocket of my jeans afterwards (oops). The girls are going out tonight (sounds like a Take That song), but I'm not sure if the FPO is going through or not, as we have a lot on this weekend.  Mink will certainly be visited again in the future, but l think there may be less Jack Daniels consumed next time.  Oh - Chloe has also taken a bit of a shine to me.  I'm a natural when it comes to youngsters.

Me and Robbo in the taxi home - like a pissed up old married couple (in this case, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton)

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drunken night in with the rolling stones

Myself and the FPO stayed in tonight and knocked back some wine after our chicken soup.  While we were knocking back the wine, we were also prating about to a Rolling Stones compilation which featured the two videos below, both of them magical, but for different reasons.

The Jingles version of The Rolling Stones' 'She's a Rainbow' is done in the style of Oasis, with the front Jingle doing a more than credible Liam Gallagher impression. It's also cool that they are covering one of the lesser known Stones songs (from Their Satanic Majesties Request), so l assume whoever chose to do it must be a fan.

The Wayne Gibson one is from Crackerjack, in front of a bunch of young children, and the subject matter and lyrics couldn't be more out of place if they tried.  Under My Thumb is a real put down of a girl and how she has been made to be submissive and weak.  A treat for any five year old.  What madman booked this, thinking it would be a good idea?  A great Northern Soul classic, and a top Rolling Stones song, but pleas...not in front of the children!

On a related note, l can now do the splits and rest my arm and head on my extended leg while doing so. I'll never walk again, and my scrotum will never be the same, but it was worth it.  To see a martial arts master doing the same, check out the end video of Lou Reed (at 2:48). It's not as easy as it looks.








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keith and charlie photograph, plus the stones docs

I've been watching The Rolling Stones stuff this afternoon that l recorded last night, and although l had already seen most of the stuff shown, there were some great clips that l hadn't had the pleasure of perusing previously.  Dancing With Mr D on The Old Grey Whistle Test, although not one of their finer moments, was one clip, and amongst the photographs new to me, there was this beauty featuring Keith Richards and Charlie Watts, with Keith hamming it up for the camera, but looking pretty cool while doing so.  Effete yet dangerous to hang around - just like l have tried to live my life (as certain people would testify).  I even (allegedly) crashed a car once while arguing that 'I am Keith Richards' and the passenger was 'Bill' (as in Wyman), resulting in me being distracted and writing the car off (although the drink may not have helped).  Not big or clever, but it happened.
Those were the days.    Drink? Tick      Drugs? Tick    Sex and Rock and Roll? Tick   Violence? Tick      Three nights awake?  Tick (but it makes you itchy).
It's a good job l've settled down, as it's not easy putting the hours in.
As for the 'Crossfire Hurricane' documentary, the 25x5 one years ago (1989!!!) was miles better, but it is not available on DVD (but of course l do own a dodgy one).  What they really need is an Anthology series like The Beatles had.  I'd certainly part with my money for one of those, as l'm sure many others would do.
Sort it out.
Now!









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posters for the original ocean's 11

Posters for the original 1960 film of Oceans 11,  from when stars were stars.   I still think Dean Martin was the coolest out of them, and l will hear no argument otherwise.   My dad used to love him, and l grew up listening to the records, whether l liked it or not, but it was a fine education for any drunken scouse chancer (of which l am one).




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the scorpion nightclub

Ah.... This certainly takes me back.  It doesn't matter if you remember the place as The Scorpion, The Walerville, The Walkie, The Rats Palace, The Pink Palace or Staxx, you will definitely remember the wild nights, the mine sweeping, the fights, the romance, the food  (either inside or at Brian Taylor's van), and the search for a party afterwards.  Catterick and Colburn is not the same without it, and the bloody Colburn Lodge is still closed and up for sale.  Progress - Pah!

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a drunk man rides a crocodile

From BBC news Asia-Pacific

A drunk man who climbed into a crocodile enclosure in Australia and attempted to ride a 5m (16ft) long crocodile has survived his encounter. The crocodile, called Fatso, bit the 36-year-old man's leg, tearing chunks of flesh from him as he straddled the reptile. He received surgery to serious wounds to his leg and is recovering in hospital, police say. He had been chucked out of a pub in the town of Broome for being too drunk. The man, Michael Newman, climbed over a fence and tried to sit on the 800kg (1,800lb) saltwater crocodile. Continue reading the main story “ Start Quote If it had been warmer and Fatso was more alert, we would have been dealing with a fatality” Malcolm Douglas "Fatso has taken offence to this and has spun around and bit this man on the right leg," Sgt Roger Haynes of Broome police told journalists. "The crocodile has let him go and he's been able to scale the fence again and leave the wildlife park." 'Right mind' Malcolm Douglas, the park's owner, said that the crocodile was capable of crushing a man to death with a single bite. "The man who climbed the fence was fortunate because Fatso was a bit more sluggish than normal, due to the cooler nights we have been experiencing in Broome," said Mr Douglas. "If it had been warmer and Fatso was more alert, we would have been dealing with a fatality." "No person in their right mind would try to sit on a 5m crocodile, Saltwater crocodiles, once they get hold of you, are not renowned for letting you go." The man staggered back to the pub bleeding heavily. Pub manager Mark Phillips said staff told him that the man reappeared at about 11pm with bits of bark hanging off him and flesh gouged out of his limbs. "They said he had chunks out of his legs and things like that," Mr Phillips told The West Australian news website. An average of two people are killed each year in Australia by aggressive saltwater crocodiles, which can grow up to 7m (23 ft) long and weigh more than a tonne.

I love the fact that the man (who just had to be Australian) was so drunk he was kicked out of a pub (is that even allowed in Australia?).  He then decided to have a ride on the crocodile  and then strolled back to a pub afterwards, with flesh hanging off his leg.  Talk about your stereotypical Australian bloke - this is priceless!  He sounds just like the sort of bloke l should be drinking with, rather than the namby pamby Brits that l put up with.

                                                          The croc - looking for lunch

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a quiet night at jt's

After sitting around watching TV on Saturday, l managed to persuade the FPO to hit the White Shops for a drink, as we had already been drinking wine, had run out, and it was only 7.30pm.  We called in at The Wine Bar first, where there was about 3 other people drinking in there.  Nothing that unusual, but on stepping into to J.T's (just around the corner), we thought there must be a football match on the big screen, as it was heaving.  We had only gone and forgotten it was a late Halloween do, so it was  a pretty fun night, mainly talking to Michael and watching the FPO fall over dancing.  She is certainly a classy act once she's had a few ales.  A fun night for all of the family.

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drunks a plenty falling over

Drunks - Don't you just love them?

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dodgy people in the arc

'The Arc'  Sports and Social Club in Colburn, Catterick Garrison, is a pub/club actually called 'The Hanson', (but everyone calls it 'The Arc').  It  is a place l sometimes descend upon to watch the football and have a crack on with some of the locals.  To describe most of them as working class scumbags (like myself) would be an understatement.  Here are three of them, demonstrating the effects that frequenting The Arc on a regular basis has on you. They are Ian, Jacket and Dogface.  I have only called Ian by his proper name as l can't remember his nickname (Gimmy? Dummy? it's something.. mmy) and l can't be bothered phoning anybody to find out, but pretty much everyone has a nickname, including me. All are (as you can imagine) pretty crazy, but also sound lads as well. Rachel (Jacket's missus, known as Mrs Jacket) now even runs the place as Cav/Kav/Mr K/Irish Jimmy (all the same person) has retired. This (sad to say) is one of the environments l thrive in, as, living across the road for years, putting the hours in with the nuttiness, drinking and drugs, (plus being devilishly handsome, good at football and pool, bright and funny), l have earnt my spurs. There is a large residential development just about to start behind the club, and lots more families will be moving in and living near it.  Some of them are in for a shock when they head out to their new local for the first time.   Before you wonder, no doctors or lawyers drink in the place, and l can't see that changing in the near future.  Recommended on a Sunday morning when the football team are playing at home, and the drinks are cheap.

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out and about in masham

While l was at work yesterday, l ended up with an hour to kill in Masham, so l did what any right minded person would do.  I had a look around, checked out the church, and then went to the pub.  Nothing that exciting, but at least l was getting paid for it (it's a hard life etc).  The stained glass window in the church looked great, and The White Bear pub is famous for it's connection with The Black Sheep Brewery.  The pub also used to have a load of Jethro Tull stuff, including the broadsword, which used to be on the ceiling in the early 1980's, as one of Tull (or a roadie/manager) used to own or manage the place (if l remember correctly).  I used to frequent the pub years ago, and have had some excellent evenings in there (some drink was maybe involved), but it has been refurbished since then.  Also popular with the Fairport Convention  / Lindisfarne contingents as well as many other folkie types.  Bloody hippies.

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sunderland v manchester united 2010

Time is certainly flying by.  I went to this game exactly two years ago, but it certainly doesn't feel like that amount of time has passed.  It was a 0-0 draw, l ended up going by myself as Robbo ended up not being able to go, and l also got a parking ticket as (my own fault) l left my car on the grass outside of the Sunderland supporters pub outside the ground (despite the warnings about tickets). The price you have to pay to be cool.   I may well be (OK, I am) an arse, but l am seriously debating whether to bother with the Newcastle United v Manchester United game this weekend.  It will be about £40 (or more) for a ticket, add on drinks and travel to up the cost, plus it's also on Sky, where l can watch it from the comfort of my settee with crisps and ale, and then hit the pub afterwards.  I think the ticket prices nowadays are taking the piss, but l will also probably have to go in the Newcastle end, as l haven't got a ticket for the Manchester United away end.  This means it's not so atmospheric and much less fun, and to top it all, you have to (generally) keep quiet about being a United fan.  Last year it pissed it down and Manchester United got beat, so is it really worth it?  I think if an away end ticket or two materialises, l'll go, otherwise, my (limited nowadays) trips to matches may be coming to an end (apart from special occasions).  It's not like the old days.   I remember when you could just turn up with your pocket money on a whim (good bikes),  pay on the gate, indulge yourself with a programme and bovril, and still have enough left for a bag of chips and scraps on the way home.  Kids today don't know nothing blah blah blah etc etc ......

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