I return from the void in my golden voidship! After many moons i come to spread once more the Word of Grub.
So i got divorced after all and took a beating after i found out just how many men had slept in my bed while i was out moonlighting for extra cash! Only thing i regret wife-wise was that i gave her half my hard-earned beer tokens when i got in. Not sure that makes her a whore but for the sake of clarity, SHE'S A WHORE!!
ahem...
Any way order is restored in the Grubniverse... Grublaxy... the Grublar syst... at my house. I have a much more amenable young lady on my arm, my access to my daughter is pretty comprehensive and I am about to restart work :)
And i have booze and hash on a saturday :D
Updates will follow once again...
Saturday 10 September 2011
Thursday 18 December 2008
The Bardswell Games
Had a couple of decent nights in the club over the road. Wasn't really in the mood, things aren't great at home with the wife. But, went over the road for the sixes competition and we gave a fright to a very good team, going 1-0 up and almost taking a second leg to knock them out. wasn't to be but we all felt pretty proud of our little team. The main point is that in this club, which is 2 minutes walk from the flat, sells Stella at only 10p more than Carlsberg. Which is an excuse to get shitfaced. Stella is widely recognised as the best lager around but it's also known as 'wifebeater' for a reason. Gets you pissed real quick. Anyway, last night I went back for a few more at the Women's league charity night. Ended up being roped in to play with 3 ladies, one of whom would sit nicely in the category of 'hubbahubba' but far too young and beboyfriended for any drunken lurching. I just made sure I finished off the 3 games we played to get a bit of pervy uncle hugging going round. Got a couple of cuddly-granny cuddles thrown in ,too, so not a bad night. Oh, another bus stop came my way! Or to translate into Grubbish, another tenners worth of wifebeater....
So things aren't completely quiet, things do still turn up, but it is not as raucously reckless as the younger days. I may be enjoying it more, though. There don't seem to be such bad heads or such embarrassing consequences. Maybe I'm reaching a happy medium of drunk when I can and sober when I need to be. Or maybe I'm just a bit skint and I'm settling for what I can get til the pockets regain the pre-xmas bulge. Who knows. Who cares. I got drunk and pulled a young ladies tits to my chest for a few brief dirty-thoughted seconds.
So things aren't completely quiet, things do still turn up, but it is not as raucously reckless as the younger days. I may be enjoying it more, though. There don't seem to be such bad heads or such embarrassing consequences. Maybe I'm reaching a happy medium of drunk when I can and sober when I need to be. Or maybe I'm just a bit skint and I'm settling for what I can get til the pockets regain the pre-xmas bulge. Who knows. Who cares. I got drunk and pulled a young ladies tits to my chest for a few brief dirty-thoughted seconds.
Monday 8 December 2008
Objective Update
The time of year is coming when provision has to be made for yuletide medecine. For the glaucoma and all that. Unavailable close to the festivities due to the huge swathe of parties sweeping the land and the universal holiday period, supplies must be brought in early. And then kept in storage. A difficult task...
Anyway contacts have to be made and funds have to be analysed. Getting stoned gives me a xmas feeling anyway, so getting stoned at xmas is the next mission. And a beer lake has to be stocked too. It may be a quiet run up but xmas should be good. I hope. Unless it all goes wrong. Which it might. Oh, bollocks...
Anyway contacts have to be made and funds have to be analysed. Getting stoned gives me a xmas feeling anyway, so getting stoned at xmas is the next mission. And a beer lake has to be stocked too. It may be a quiet run up but xmas should be good. I hope. Unless it all goes wrong. Which it might. Oh, bollocks...
Friday 5 December 2008
drunken escapades part I
In the absence of any recent events of newsworthy nature I thought maybe a trot through a couple of old and fuzzy memories that may be of interest. These events are many but come back to me randomly so will be irregular. Some are a bit cringe-inducing and involve too much vomit for pleasant storytelling but there are plenty of comic ones.
There have been plenty of drunken student type pranks (how many people can we get in a phone box, 2cv, lavvy), and there has been plenty of 'lost in London/Liverpool/Leicester' type adventures that'll be "funny when we look back". That aren't. And there are plenty of tales that only come back when I sit around with old mates who can fill the gaps. A few fights. The odd trip, fall and stumble. And one arrest for exposure.
The one I always think of first when I reminisce about the old glory days was a night in Majorca in the teen years. Not surprisingly there where a few drunken stories from those two weeks but, having woken up in the bathroom after the first night with a puddle of sick still warm and spreading across the tiles to find my two mates AWOL, it is the most memorable. Though obviously, couldn't remember a thing about the events preceding. Luckily I was filled in by the two girls who knocked on the door as I was getting my bearings. We'd had a party in our hotel room after the bar shut with them and some other guys we'd met. Lot's of sangria, naturally, and a bucket load of lager and voddy. Text book stuff. Except where the fuck were the other two? Hospital it'd turned out, I got a call from one of the guys saying he'd jumped out the window, ran across the road for a swim in the sea. Just too much to resist, apparently. Only, after seeing this, the next guy decided it looked cool and broke his foot jumping off the balcony. I was out for the count through all this, having lead the proceedings over the course of the previous afternoon. Bit of a disaster then. Took all day to convince hopalong that he could still enjoy himself in a plaster cast and we needn't jump on the next plane home.
Took a lot less time for me and my other mate to realise we should leave him by the pool while we toured the island with the girls. Nurses it turned out. Everybodies favourite! Drunk at the waterpark, drunk at the beach, drunk in the company of nurses. Maybe not such a disaster for all of us...
There have been plenty of drunken student type pranks (how many people can we get in a phone box, 2cv, lavvy), and there has been plenty of 'lost in London/Liverpool/Leicester' type adventures that'll be "funny when we look back". That aren't. And there are plenty of tales that only come back when I sit around with old mates who can fill the gaps. A few fights. The odd trip, fall and stumble. And one arrest for exposure.
The one I always think of first when I reminisce about the old glory days was a night in Majorca in the teen years. Not surprisingly there where a few drunken stories from those two weeks but, having woken up in the bathroom after the first night with a puddle of sick still warm and spreading across the tiles to find my two mates AWOL, it is the most memorable. Though obviously, couldn't remember a thing about the events preceding. Luckily I was filled in by the two girls who knocked on the door as I was getting my bearings. We'd had a party in our hotel room after the bar shut with them and some other guys we'd met. Lot's of sangria, naturally, and a bucket load of lager and voddy. Text book stuff. Except where the fuck were the other two? Hospital it'd turned out, I got a call from one of the guys saying he'd jumped out the window, ran across the road for a swim in the sea. Just too much to resist, apparently. Only, after seeing this, the next guy decided it looked cool and broke his foot jumping off the balcony. I was out for the count through all this, having lead the proceedings over the course of the previous afternoon. Bit of a disaster then. Took all day to convince hopalong that he could still enjoy himself in a plaster cast and we needn't jump on the next plane home.
Took a lot less time for me and my other mate to realise we should leave him by the pool while we toured the island with the girls. Nurses it turned out. Everybodies favourite! Drunk at the waterpark, drunk at the beach, drunk in the company of nurses. Maybe not such a disaster for all of us...
Thursday 4 December 2008
Short Break in the Radio Silence
Though strictly speaking on a 'sensible' break, I perhaps should document some of the recent garglings. I have taken up friday nights at the local drink 'n' darterie. In order to prevent myself from getting completely out of my usual match fitness, you understand. Managing the budget in these straightened times has not been easy but I am managing ok by sticking to the one vice of slurping only. Last weekend for example was pretty drunken. The previous friday necking session was the first of the fiscal month, so the neck muscles well-oiled. Saturday was the wife's turn for heading out so I got the usual 6 for a fiver and made sure I was unfit to drive. Sunday then gave me an excuse to go out and see Arsenal beat Chelsea while Spurs were losing to Everton. (snigger). This is cause for celebration so the flow was unhchecked for a while. This weekend, while not hefty, was acceptable in the current economic climate and further proof that this experiment will work, given the right careful planning. Unfortunately planning is the weak point of the spontaneous lifestyle and now I'm skint til the 15th.
Just a word on the 6 cans thing. It is possible to sustain a full blown alcoholic life on much less a day. The big 2 litre bottles of ridiculously strong cider the offy's tout for 2 quid will go a long way towards a days oblivion. But I always think there needs to be a quality to a man's drunkeness that is not catereed for here. And anyone who drinks it or Special Brew or Tennants Super has no such standards. And a drink problem. Which may sound a harsh thing to say from someone who is attempting to regain a youthful appetite for perusing the beers and spirits aisle of life's supermarket but there you go. I don't have the need to drink, but I do have the desire to be 'off it'. This is not exclusively tailored to booze, so where does this place me in the world of ____ anonymouses? Nowhere really. I have lost friends to alcoholism and I know what it takes to be given the title. Though I have at times been sometimes alarmed at how much in common my life can have with the addicted. This is usually a social thing though. I tend to have cleary defined starts and finishes to my drinking bouts and if I get bored I go home. This is true with drugs also. I don't make a habit of the more addictive ones and go long periods without.
And there is too much else I enjoy in life to allow me to become the one dimensional person you need to become to give in to addiction.
Anyway, now I've reassured myself, I can look forward to getting 'fuckola'ed on the 15th :)
Just a word on the 6 cans thing. It is possible to sustain a full blown alcoholic life on much less a day. The big 2 litre bottles of ridiculously strong cider the offy's tout for 2 quid will go a long way towards a days oblivion. But I always think there needs to be a quality to a man's drunkeness that is not catereed for here. And anyone who drinks it or Special Brew or Tennants Super has no such standards. And a drink problem. Which may sound a harsh thing to say from someone who is attempting to regain a youthful appetite for perusing the beers and spirits aisle of life's supermarket but there you go. I don't have the need to drink, but I do have the desire to be 'off it'. This is not exclusively tailored to booze, so where does this place me in the world of ____ anonymouses? Nowhere really. I have lost friends to alcoholism and I know what it takes to be given the title. Though I have at times been sometimes alarmed at how much in common my life can have with the addicted. This is usually a social thing though. I tend to have cleary defined starts and finishes to my drinking bouts and if I get bored I go home. This is true with drugs also. I don't make a habit of the more addictive ones and go long periods without.
And there is too much else I enjoy in life to allow me to become the one dimensional person you need to become to give in to addiction.
Anyway, now I've reassured myself, I can look forward to getting 'fuckola'ed on the 15th :)
Monday 17 November 2008
Reality Interruption
I am going to have to suspend this experiment for a while. Too many commitments are barreling towards me with xmas and my daughters birthday and all sorts of shit. Money is just not going to be available for wasting on myself. I feel I have shown that it is possible to make a decent attempt at the objective but it will need more structured thinking.
In the meantime I may start a brief blog on more urbane matters. Speak to you soon.
In the meantime I may start a brief blog on more urbane matters. Speak to you soon.
Friday 14 November 2008
Going on the Borrow
I could have a very good weekend coming up. Thing is, I'd need about 40 squidlings. I have about none. It turns out the wife used the last of the pot to pay her mobile out of OUR cash and not HER cash. Which means I paid half. Which is why I'm looking at a weekend of telly and xbox not beer and fags.
The answer to this is to borrow til it's sorted. But from who...
My parents are always skint, my siblings are either skint or using their cash, my mates are useless.
Borrowing has always been a necessary evil. Many times has a wage packet been cut in half by the repayment of loans or pawned goodies. This means more borrowing til you can gradually borrow less each week til you are somewhere near straight. Or you have to flog your telly. I have been known to book holidays from jobs that forward you that weeks cash just to get straight. Not recommended though, the week off has to be spent working from agencies or you spend it all in the pub in a day or two.
The answer is to spend your time with cans at home and not the pub, and a big bag of weed (and I mean weed, NOT skunk!). As the poet said 'weed will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no weed'. Unfortunately being unprepared for the extent of my skintness I have made no provisions. So.
Can you lend us a bullseye?
The answer to this is to borrow til it's sorted. But from who...
My parents are always skint, my siblings are either skint or using their cash, my mates are useless.
Borrowing has always been a necessary evil. Many times has a wage packet been cut in half by the repayment of loans or pawned goodies. This means more borrowing til you can gradually borrow less each week til you are somewhere near straight. Or you have to flog your telly. I have been known to book holidays from jobs that forward you that weeks cash just to get straight. Not recommended though, the week off has to be spent working from agencies or you spend it all in the pub in a day or two.
The answer is to spend your time with cans at home and not the pub, and a big bag of weed (and I mean weed, NOT skunk!). As the poet said 'weed will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no weed'. Unfortunately being unprepared for the extent of my skintness I have made no provisions. So.
Can you lend us a bullseye?
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