Cruel: Under the helmet a cricket
I was doing so well! It's been a busy few days though:
Dreams
1) I dreamt a former corporate tosspot, whom we shall call 'IDS' (famous for matt bald head, smelly hands, being like a barnacle at social event, starting fights, starting fights with lasses and generally being unpopular (hey! he wasn't all that bad)) was at some different workplace with me and he wanted to talk to me in private. We went off to a separate room, commented on his new hair transplant (it was bushy man!), he then went on to destroy the work postage stamps!
2) I dreamt aboot this annoying cat that was a bit evil. It kept scratching me nastily. So when it came in through the catflap I sprayed deep heat all over it. It limped back out with a pitiful little 'ow' every step. I woke up feeling dead guilty. (they were such sweet little 'ows')
3) Dammit! I've forgotten last nights. Ah well more cheese needed tonight.
So what's been happening to old Trunk? Saturday I went the footie and met up with Ian Marshall's Double, The Mekon, Cockney Neighbour and Lord Longhshanks. Not my usual crowd, but a good crowd.
Beers were had at the Hamilton Hall in Liverpool Street (a haunt of mine for illicit liasons many years ago) and then on to Upton Park. Took a while to get in as the only have four turnstiles for us away fans, but we were treated to a few renditons of Z-cars by some old cove on a recorder.
Well.... we looked rubbish at first, conceded one and that set us off. Quick reply one all, that shut up the bunch of tosspots in the corner who don't watch the match, but watch the opposition fans and make gestures. I feel sorry for these losers, I fear the have been bullied by their mums.
Anyhoo, game on! Then the Hammers break away and it's 2.1.... spirits sink. Half time we queue (and watch the scallies theiving (do the vendors never learn?)) for 3 pints of piss (and it is piss, Carlsberg, no wonder they sponsor Liverpool). It was a struggle to finish.
Back up after the break. We're on fire! All over them, but it looked like the goal would never come and then Beats does a majestic finish to level.
We then had a manic but ultimately disappointing last 20 mins as we peppered the goal but failed to score. Ah well, gotta be happy with the point.
Only low point was a few of our fans singing 'Town full of P***s', this very brief rendition stoped rapidly as almost the whole crowd of blues turned on them. Berating them for the sad racists they are. Mekon was especially amusing in his shout of "shut up you white fat baldy prick" as he is bald as a coot. Reminded me of evenings driving round St'Helens and getting 'Pixie' to shout 'Four eyes' at people despite wearing his black NHS specs.
Dreams
1) I dreamt a former corporate tosspot, whom we shall call 'IDS' (famous for matt bald head, smelly hands, being like a barnacle at social event, starting fights, starting fights with lasses and generally being unpopular (hey! he wasn't all that bad)) was at some different workplace with me and he wanted to talk to me in private. We went off to a separate room, commented on his new hair transplant (it was bushy man!), he then went on to destroy the work postage stamps!
2) I dreamt aboot this annoying cat that was a bit evil. It kept scratching me nastily. So when it came in through the catflap I sprayed deep heat all over it. It limped back out with a pitiful little 'ow' every step. I woke up feeling dead guilty. (they were such sweet little 'ows')
3) Dammit! I've forgotten last nights. Ah well more cheese needed tonight.
So what's been happening to old Trunk? Saturday I went the footie and met up with Ian Marshall's Double, The Mekon, Cockney Neighbour and Lord Longhshanks. Not my usual crowd, but a good crowd.
Beers were had at the Hamilton Hall in Liverpool Street (a haunt of mine for illicit liasons many years ago) and then on to Upton Park. Took a while to get in as the only have four turnstiles for us away fans, but we were treated to a few renditons of Z-cars by some old cove on a recorder.
Well.... we looked rubbish at first, conceded one and that set us off. Quick reply one all, that shut up the bunch of tosspots in the corner who don't watch the match, but watch the opposition fans and make gestures. I feel sorry for these losers, I fear the have been bullied by their mums.
Anyhoo, game on! Then the Hammers break away and it's 2.1.... spirits sink. Half time we queue (and watch the scallies theiving (do the vendors never learn?)) for 3 pints of piss (and it is piss, Carlsberg, no wonder they sponsor Liverpool). It was a struggle to finish.
Back up after the break. We're on fire! All over them, but it looked like the goal would never come and then Beats does a majestic finish to level.
We then had a manic but ultimately disappointing last 20 mins as we peppered the goal but failed to score. Ah well, gotta be happy with the point.
Only low point was a few of our fans singing 'Town full of P***s', this very brief rendition stoped rapidly as almost the whole crowd of blues turned on them. Berating them for the sad racists they are. Mekon was especially amusing in his shout of "shut up you white fat baldy prick" as he is bald as a coot. Reminded me of evenings driving round St'Helens and getting 'Pixie' to shout 'Four eyes' at people despite wearing his black NHS specs.
posted by Spunky Trunks at 4:14 PM
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