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MoJo spent his first public holiday from work lazing around going "Yeah, I'm the man" before The Wal called him to say Norm was going back to the marines tomorrow so we were going out drinking. Hurrah. Well, I've heard worse excuses to drink.
Went to The Wal's, his car wasn't there. Dumped my cans next to his door and went for a walk. Came back and both his and his brother's car were there. See, that’s what I have to do. No mobile phone for MoJo (lost it in my room somewhere) so instead of phoning them to say “Where are you?” I had to just hang around and wait for them to get back. Marvellous.
'Twas me, Fos, Norman, The Wal and his brother Mark (our very own version of Goatboy)
Talked about the good old days in Thailand (Norm went with his marine buddies about the same time we did) drank our beer, watched the adventures of Rocco (some German bloke with detachable balls) and had some whiskey. Wal lent me some shoes since I only had trainers, then we headed to the metro.
Got off at Whitley Bay, walked around the corner. Big gang of radgies coming towards us. Thin path. You can guess that we were bumping into each other. I turned around when I heard Mark calling for The Wal and I told Fos to wait. Norm and one of the radgies were having a go at each other.
Norman's only about 5"9, but he's, well, he's in the Royal Marines, so you can guess that he's pretty hard. The radgie was about 6" and thin. Anyway, they crack each other a few times on the road, and all the radgie mates are circling them. Norm heads towards us and they start shouting stuff, one throws what I thought was a glass bottle at Norman's head, but it was just a can and it missed him. Wal steps up and so does one of the radgies (not sure if it was the first one or one of his mates) Funny thing is, the radgie obviously knew how to box, whereas usually when Wal's battering people they don't stand a chance.
So The Wal and the radgie scum crack each other a few times. Amongst the cries from the radgie girls to "stop", the radgie mates run up. MoJo steps in and grabs one of them by the arms, holding him back. Later I realised that was a bit stupid since he was bigger than me, but hey, it bloody stopped him.
Since there are about twelve of them and only five of us, and only two of us are actually hard, I held The Wal back. Then they start the usual "I don't want to admit we're backing down" trash talk. They walk off, so do we. Then the lasses run after us to ask if Norman and Wal are OK, and that we shouldn't have started anything with the main kid since he'd just got out of prison. He looked about 15... Kids today.
We head to the first bar. Fos finds blood on his white jumper. We drink. Go to the next place, where Mark starts trying to chat up some ugly birds for a laugh (well, not ugly, but he can get much better) before getting up on stage and dancing. He can never resist the dancing...
I'm leaning on the table when I feel a searing pain in my left arm. Some girl had decided to stub her tab out on my bare flesh. Well, actually, she went for her drink with a tab in her hand, and the tab just happened to be jabbed into my skin for a few seconds. As rock hard as I am, I hate to admit it hurt just a little. It was already blistering before I realised what had happened. More unsuccessful talking with the ladies and more crap from the DJ who looked rather homosexual and we were off to the next place. Only it was half 10 by now, and as Paradox discovered, since it was a public holiday it was Sunday drinking rules. So we'd missed last orders after only having two pints and a bottle. Regardless, we waited in the queue for ages along with everyone else, screaming at the bar staff to serve us.
So we leave and end up in this restaurant we always end up in when we're drunk down Whitley Bay. They're closing up and aren't serving any alcohol, despite giving us it in the past (they said they were under new management, and even the fridge with the beers in was missing, curse them all!) So we ordered our food and planned how to get home if we missed the last metro. They had a PS1 with Street Racer on in the corner (as well as a copy of The Sun from February...) which Wal and Fos played. I used to love that game, so I made sure Wal picked the best guy - the bloke with the shades. He was whooping Fos 7 laps to 1 when Fos got angry and reset it. Classic.
Got our food, walked to the metro. Mark started talking to some more birds. Some radgie was sitting with his feet up on the seats near us, so after Mark finished talking to another bird he went up and sat next to him, putting his feet up to in a mocking sort of way. Only this bald bloke with glasses in the next seat started having a go at Mark. The argument went from everything to crap on Mark's shoes, to how the government is taking away our rights and how the radgie kid was probably on glue and how Ireland doesn't let you smoke in public places anymore. I kept out of it, but Mark, ever the diplomat, won the guy over and he got off at the same station as us and walked with us for ages. Pretty surreal, since the bloke admitted he was gonna try and take us all on. Weird.
Back at The Wal's, it was time for more beer, cold food which had more sauce than meat (I don't think we found any chicken at all...) and some dirty students. Porn is much funnier when the girls are sprouting filth with Yorkshire accents. Classic.
Got my coat (which had been in the back seat of The Wal's car for the past week) and headed home. Going past a field (as in a large patch of grass, not a cow and sheep field) a tiny dog started running along the other side of the fence, barking like mad. Hating dogs, I teased it. Eventually it got through the fence, but instead of biting my head off… it just kept on... barking. Pity, I was looking forward to punching it. Then it ran away. Some guard dog...
And that, my friends, was the end of another MoJo adventure. Almost two fights, one at the start and one at the end, a large blister near my elbow and that awful taste in your mouth after drinking different types of beer all night. Woo.
Went to The Wal's, his car wasn't there. Dumped my cans next to his door and went for a walk. Came back and both his and his brother's car were there. See, that’s what I have to do. No mobile phone for MoJo (lost it in my room somewhere) so instead of phoning them to say “Where are you?” I had to just hang around and wait for them to get back. Marvellous.
'Twas me, Fos, Norman, The Wal and his brother Mark (our very own version of Goatboy)
Talked about the good old days in Thailand (Norm went with his marine buddies about the same time we did) drank our beer, watched the adventures of Rocco (some German bloke with detachable balls) and had some whiskey. Wal lent me some shoes since I only had trainers, then we headed to the metro.
Got off at Whitley Bay, walked around the corner. Big gang of radgies coming towards us. Thin path. You can guess that we were bumping into each other. I turned around when I heard Mark calling for The Wal and I told Fos to wait. Norm and one of the radgies were having a go at each other.
Norman's only about 5"9, but he's, well, he's in the Royal Marines, so you can guess that he's pretty hard. The radgie was about 6" and thin. Anyway, they crack each other a few times on the road, and all the radgie mates are circling them. Norm heads towards us and they start shouting stuff, one throws what I thought was a glass bottle at Norman's head, but it was just a can and it missed him. Wal steps up and so does one of the radgies (not sure if it was the first one or one of his mates) Funny thing is, the radgie obviously knew how to box, whereas usually when Wal's battering people they don't stand a chance.
So The Wal and the radgie scum crack each other a few times. Amongst the cries from the radgie girls to "stop", the radgie mates run up. MoJo steps in and grabs one of them by the arms, holding him back. Later I realised that was a bit stupid since he was bigger than me, but hey, it bloody stopped him.
Since there are about twelve of them and only five of us, and only two of us are actually hard, I held The Wal back. Then they start the usual "I don't want to admit we're backing down" trash talk. They walk off, so do we. Then the lasses run after us to ask if Norman and Wal are OK, and that we shouldn't have started anything with the main kid since he'd just got out of prison. He looked about 15... Kids today.
We head to the first bar. Fos finds blood on his white jumper. We drink. Go to the next place, where Mark starts trying to chat up some ugly birds for a laugh (well, not ugly, but he can get much better) before getting up on stage and dancing. He can never resist the dancing...
I'm leaning on the table when I feel a searing pain in my left arm. Some girl had decided to stub her tab out on my bare flesh. Well, actually, she went for her drink with a tab in her hand, and the tab just happened to be jabbed into my skin for a few seconds. As rock hard as I am, I hate to admit it hurt just a little. It was already blistering before I realised what had happened. More unsuccessful talking with the ladies and more crap from the DJ who looked rather homosexual and we were off to the next place. Only it was half 10 by now, and as Paradox discovered, since it was a public holiday it was Sunday drinking rules. So we'd missed last orders after only having two pints and a bottle. Regardless, we waited in the queue for ages along with everyone else, screaming at the bar staff to serve us.
So we leave and end up in this restaurant we always end up in when we're drunk down Whitley Bay. They're closing up and aren't serving any alcohol, despite giving us it in the past (they said they were under new management, and even the fridge with the beers in was missing, curse them all!) So we ordered our food and planned how to get home if we missed the last metro. They had a PS1 with Street Racer on in the corner (as well as a copy of The Sun from February...) which Wal and Fos played. I used to love that game, so I made sure Wal picked the best guy - the bloke with the shades. He was whooping Fos 7 laps to 1 when Fos got angry and reset it. Classic.
Got our food, walked to the metro. Mark started talking to some more birds. Some radgie was sitting with his feet up on the seats near us, so after Mark finished talking to another bird he went up and sat next to him, putting his feet up to in a mocking sort of way. Only this bald bloke with glasses in the next seat started having a go at Mark. The argument went from everything to crap on Mark's shoes, to how the government is taking away our rights and how the radgie kid was probably on glue and how Ireland doesn't let you smoke in public places anymore. I kept out of it, but Mark, ever the diplomat, won the guy over and he got off at the same station as us and walked with us for ages. Pretty surreal, since the bloke admitted he was gonna try and take us all on. Weird.
Back at The Wal's, it was time for more beer, cold food which had more sauce than meat (I don't think we found any chicken at all...) and some dirty students. Porn is much funnier when the girls are sprouting filth with Yorkshire accents. Classic.
Got my coat (which had been in the back seat of The Wal's car for the past week) and headed home. Going past a field (as in a large patch of grass, not a cow and sheep field) a tiny dog started running along the other side of the fence, barking like mad. Hating dogs, I teased it. Eventually it got through the fence, but instead of biting my head off… it just kept on... barking. Pity, I was looking forward to punching it. Then it ran away. Some guard dog...
And that, my friends, was the end of another MoJo adventure. Almost two fights, one at the start and one at the end, a large blister near my elbow and that awful taste in your mouth after drinking different types of beer all night. Woo.
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Don't make fun of my mum
*cries*
*cries*
Your mum says she likes it up against the wall.
Ahar.
Ahar.
My mum says I could beat The Wal
My mum says I'm cool...
MoJoJoJo wrote:
> Yes, only macho stuff goes on between us. As in non-gay. Yes.
Once again, trying to convince yourself. Give it up. Just give it up.
> Yes, only macho stuff goes on between us. As in non-gay. Yes.
Once again, trying to convince yourself. Give it up. Just give it up.
Sure you could, SHEEPY, sure you could.
Oh, I forgot to mention Wal and Fos were pushing each other into cars and pulled a wind mirror off one of them on the way to the metro station. Last time they fell onto cars I spent the night in a cell...
Oh, I forgot to mention Wal and Fos were pushing each other into cars and pulled a wind mirror off one of them on the way to the metro station. Last time they fell onto cars I spent the night in a cell...
I could still beat him up
Yes, Quinty, that is correct. Here they're radgies, radges, charvers, charves etc.
"If you've lost your phone, why don't you try and ring it to see where the noise comes from."
I would if I hadn't misplaced it about five months ago. To be honest I haven't even looked for it, it's just not in any obvious places.
"Where was Stone Cold Psyhco?"
Sadly, Stone Cold is still down in Durham. Hopefully he'll be coming to Thailand with us in August.
"I could beat up The Wal"
No, because I'd kneel behind you and he'd push you over me.
"I'd like to hear some words of wisdom from The Wal at some point."
Er, last night we talked about how to pull birds and that, when I'm with him, I'm never alone... In terms of fighting, that is! Yes, only macho stuff goes on between us. As in non-gay. Yes.
"If you've lost your phone, why don't you try and ring it to see where the noise comes from."
I would if I hadn't misplaced it about five months ago. To be honest I haven't even looked for it, it's just not in any obvious places.
"Where was Stone Cold Psyhco?"
Sadly, Stone Cold is still down in Durham. Hopefully he'll be coming to Thailand with us in August.
"I could beat up The Wal"
No, because I'd kneel behind you and he'd push you over me.
"I'd like to hear some words of wisdom from The Wal at some point."
Er, last night we talked about how to pull birds and that, when I'm with him, I'm never alone... In terms of fighting, that is! Yes, only macho stuff goes on between us. As in non-gay. Yes.
I take it radgies are the northern version of chavs, townies or whatever theyre called these days?
Scum....
Scum....
I'd like to hear some words of wisdom from The Wal at some point.
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