Tag Archives: London Fields

Barge life. Alot like thug life but with chemical toilets.


Sorry I haven’t posted anyfink for a while.  I’ve been very very busy……watching 3 ugly boring Northerners fight it out for the coveted prize of Masterchef the professionals.

For those of you I’ve heard whinging about X-Factor rigging, you should all be aware of the consequences of putting the most talented people through to the final of a TV talent show.

So what if you can cook a quail to perfection.  I’d rather have an omelette cooked by a tart with nice tits if it means I don’t have to listen to the “talented” one droan on and watch them awkwardly scratch their face every two seconds.

This is them.  Not that anyone gives a fuck.  The one at the back is Northern and boring.  The one is the middle is a bit more Northern and quite a lot more boring, and the one at the front is proper Northern, proper boring, proper pig face.

Off they scurry back to obscurity…..and hopefully darkness.

Anyway. Enough of that boring shit.  I’ve got some BIG EXCITING news!  A few weeks ago I went on barge.  A BARGE! I bet none of you losers have ever been on a barge!

The most bestest fing about being on a barge is when you get to a lock.  Locks are so EXCITING!  We had to wait for a bit because a man was emptying all the poo and wee out of his barge right by the lock.  It smelled horrible it did.  He waved at us when he backed out and thought, urrrrgh, I just smelt your poo and now you’re waving at me like you think I haven’t just whiffed your innards.  The dirty bugger.  He didn’t even have a red face or nuffink.

Then Gilbey said that I could open thelock.

OH.MY.GOD.OH.MY.GOD.OH.MY.GOD.OH.MY.GOD.OH.MY.GOD!!!!!!

He gave me the big key and I ran all the way around to the other side.  Here is a picture of me half way round to the other side with the big key.  It doesn’t look like a key but it is a key, it’s just different from a door key because it’s a lock key.  The key was quite heavy, but I am big and strong and I carried the key easily:

“Hurry Up!” Shouted Gilbey.  So off I hurried.  I was still very EXCITED!

Gilbey didn’t give me any instructions about how to use the big key and he got very impatient with me when I was trying to work out how to use it.  He tutted at me and clambered over the lock to my side.  I had never been on a barge before so I didn’t know.

He took the key duty away from me and done it himself.  I don’t think Gilbey understood how much opening the lock would mean to me.

I didn’t want to get back on the barge because Gilbey had really upset me, but ginger Rich said I could have some of his Scrumpy so I thought “fuck it”.  When I got back on Gemdog gave me a hug.  She had a tiger on her coat, I like tigers and that cheered me up.  A bit.

When you pullover on a barge you have to tie it up, otherwise it’ll float away down to Limehouse and you’ll never see it again.  Gilbey gave Lewy Pooey the tie up task but he’s a bit of a pranny and forgot to untie it when we started to sink.  If you don’t untie it then I fink the roof will come off and you’ll have a cabriolet barge.  I thought that would’ve been pretty cool but everyone PANICKED.

Lewy Pooey was very quick to sort it out, but WAIT!……how is he going to get back on the barge!?  Walk down the slope and step on you say?  Don’t be knob.  If you’ve been drinking for 15 hours then you try and jump the 6ft onto the slippery roof.

I was well up for seeing him attempt it but Gemdog  (the fucking spoil sport) said “No no Lewis! Just go around, don’t be an idiot”.  Lewis is so under the thumb that he didn’t jump from the side.  Pussy.

He climbed down the algae covered ladder and decided to jump from there!  I never would’ve thought of that, but then I’m not a bright spark like him!

As if things couldn’t get any worse after being denied the opportunity to open the lock.  He made this jump.  Gutted I was.

We chugged on down to Mile End for a coffee.  I tried to bet Gilbey £200 to strip off and get a duck in a headlock but it was about midday by this point and there were families around, so we just went home to bed.

Bye bye.

RnR!!

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We went on a lovely trip – Part 2


Right I’ll jump straight in.

Day 2 was Lewy’s actual birfdee, after the excitement of a very well prepared treasure hunt, we all sang happy birthday and cut the cake. Lewy got all embarrassed. He said he didn’t like being the centre of attention, which is utter bull-cum if you ask me. He spends most of his life with his guns out and wearing pink trainers.

For a guy in his mid 20’s he got a disproportionate amount of meerkat themed gifts. They’re his favourite animal you see. Personally I prefer elephants, sloths and alpaca’s, but then I’m a proper geezer.

Horse hounds Mummy done us proud yet again with a wonderful picnic, and we all headed off on another road trip.

This time our destination was a little place called Tyneham. The village had to be evacuated “temporarily” in 1943 so that the surrounding 7,500 acres of land could be used for military testing during WWII. The village still remains; although as the area continues to be used for testing, it only operates as an attraction………when they’re not blowing shit up.

The old school still stands with examples of students work, the old piano, clothes pegs etc:

It’s a bit like my old Comprehensive in Essex really. I imagine if kids were still there they’d be calling the teachers slags, the boys would be trying to finger girls during English and the birds would be stuffing tissue in their bras and look like they’d been shot in the face with a make-up gun.

This is the church. I’m Catholic and go to church every week. Those people who think that human people evolved from monkeys ‘n’ all that are fucking mental. God created EVERYTHING in 6 days and stuck his feet up on Sunday to watch Eve get her baps out in that garden.

The plan was to follow our walking map on a 3 mile stroll up the hill, find a nice spot, eat our nosh and roll back. Here we are exuberantly setting off. Take note of the yellow markers and “Military Firing Range. Keep Out” sign. They were later to be our downfall.

You may be able to just about make out the rocky and frankly treacherous terrain. We were ill equipped. Apart from Gem Dog who was wearing very sensible pink Chuck Taylors. She’s such a country bumpkin!

Now. We made it to the top of the hill despite my leathered soled brogues and the birds plimsoles. Although I did nearly sprain my ankle a couple of times 😦

This is the spot we picked to bust out the picnic. I’ll tell you what. Sitting up there with that view and a bit of pork pie is probably my idea of heaven. I bloody love pork pie. If Gem Dogs Mum had been there at that point I would have kissed her face.

Again I’ve helpfully marked out our route, only this time we left the map reading to the two tarts. So instead of heading down to this beautiful little cove, having a bit of a paddle and then back down to the village, they decided it would be better for us to carry on walking along the cliffs.

Don’t get me wrong, the cliffs were amazing, but I’m not exactly Hasslehoff. I burn under the lights at work. Spending more than 12 minutes outside in anything warmer than 16 oC is going to end in tears. It might not look that far this route but IT WAS VERY HILLY.

We were pretty tired but luckily Gem Dog brought along some nitrous oxide so we all sat down and had a couple of balloons half way down.

She’s always thinking that girl. Some of the idiots we walked past had water and back-packs. Fucking dicks.

When we got to the bottom we saw a beach. Brilliant. We can have a paddle and and head back along the sea. It’ll be wonderful.

Nope!

Now by this time we were all pretty tired and slightly heady from the sun and laughing gas. We sat down and worked out that we were still about 5 miles from the car in either direction. Turning back wasn’t an option what with all those hills and judging by the numerous burnt out tanks along the route, I don’t think they were joking about the potential of losing a leg. Given the location you could say we were in a veritable no mans land. HA! A bit of war humour there.

Anyway. I’m a bit bored now. We ploughed on. The bird moaned. We went to the pub. I had the lamb, the girls had fish, I can’t remember what Lewis had. Then we drove home stopping at Wembley Maccers for a Mc Flurry. Mine was grim.

The end.

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We went on a lovely trip – Part 1


I have a feeling that this post could end up being pretty epic. If like me, you have a tendency to scroll down the page before you start reading anything, do not be deterred…..it’ll all be worth it.  Believe.

Right then.  Me and the tart and Lewy Pooey and his horse hound all headed down to Dorset the other weekend in aid of Pooey’s birfdee.

Day 1 of our activities began on the Saturday:

We all jumped in the Almera and headed off.  To get where we were going we had to get on the Studland chain ferry.  I was very excited.  I was a bit sad that the crossing wasn’t a bit longer as it looked like it would be a thrilling trip, but when we got out onto the huge expanse of ocean I was glad that it wasn’t too far as the water was SO choppy I thought that we might all perish.  Luckily the captain was very experienced and he managed to save us from certain death.

Artist impression

Whilst we were crossing Gemdog informed us that Studland has the most popular nudist beach in the UK.  Luckily it was quite cloudy and a touch windy so we didn’t see any cocks or fanny’s.  Phew!  YUK!

To celebrate not seeing an old boys old boy, we stopped off at this big hairy pub and had a drink.  I had a pint of ale because I am a big strong man.  The tarts had a half and Lewy had a pint of 7% cider because he is sensible and was driving.

It is a very lovely pub isn’t it?  Lewy wanted some cash-back.  They were very accommodating and said he could have as much as he wanted.  He got £50.

Whilst in the garden we decided to get a picture of birthday boy and his TWO new camera’s.  Luckily Gem dog has an I-Groan, otherwise we would’ve had to take brass rubbing of his face.  Which would’ve been ridiculous! We didn’t even have any crayons!!

Lewey was wearing his new trousers.  He loved them he did.  He kept rubbing his legs and saying how nice they felt.  It made me feel awkward.  Like when you can’t stop thinking about wanking and you’re in the same room as your Nan.

After our drinks we headed down to the sea, where I skimmed stones and everyone on the beach watched in awe.  My technique is second to none.  We also wrote “HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEWIS” in the sand.  I drew some balloons around the text to liven it up a bit.  The bird said they were shit.  She always has to go a ruin and nice moment.  We went back to the car because she had fucked everything up!….and it was a bit chilly.

I think the balloons are alright.....

Back in the Almera we made our way to Swanage.  I had never been to Swanage, but my old school chums went there on a field trip.  My mate told me that it was one of the best weeks of his life.  I was very excited!

Not a little slapper in sight 😦

I had been told it was utopia of slags and 4 litre bottles of cider, imagine my disappointment then when we were greeted by a 1940’s street party!  Gutted.  Still, there was a 40 something woman singing “Johnny be Good” and she had massive fun bags.   Rough with the smooth I ‘spose.

We went to the arcade and tried to make our fortune.  I think those 10p slot machines where you try and win more 10p’s are AMAZING!  Now they’ve even put five pound notes and jewellery in there with them.  It’s like a little bit of Vegas right in Dorset.  While we were there Lewy and Gem dog won these guys.  I had my sunglasses nicked.  Everyone’s a winner!

I also bought a pair of 80’s brown Clarks loafers from Help the Aged.  I got a great deal at £6.99.  In London they would’ve been at least £30.  Although I did feel bad because vintage shops in London only charge so much because they like to give much more money to charity than those Dorset bastards!  I shall write a cheque for the difference to Beyond Retro.

We said our goodbyes to Swanage with a 99 and headed on towards Corfe Castle.

This is Corfe Castle.   We planned on walking up and taking a look around but none of us could be fucked and they were taking six quid.  That’s a couple of beers down there so we went to the pub to relax.

Corfe Castle is in Wareham. Gem dog told us that Enid Blyton based Noddy’s toy town on Wareham.  It had a little steam train and everything.  I really liked these that were in all the shops.  I especially liked it when I saw a little boys parents buying him one as a souvenier….awwwwww.

The tart tried to convince me that me that Enid Blyton was a bit of racist.  She’s a wolly!

When we got home Gem Dogs Mum said that the village shop at Corfe Castle had been on Mary Queen of shops that week.  It was pretty strange as we had bought some stuff from there.  Mary is good at her job obviously.  I was a bit gutted we missed Mary.  I definitely would.

Yum yum yum.

In the evening we went to Poole harbour.  We sat and had a glass of Rose and watched a drunk girl get taken away by the police.  She asked the policemen what she was “sposed ta ‘ave done”, they said “you know what happened”, “no I don’t” came the reply.  You “headbutted her didn’t you”.  “Oh”.

We moved on.  Loads of people were dressed as pirates a bit further on which was FUN!  Nice old style pirates I mean, the ones that say “arrrgghhh me hearty” and that.  Not those mad brown ones with speed boats and machine guns who say “give me your boat or I shoot dis woman in her face.  They’re awful they are those ones.

The highlight of the day for the girls was when we were in the taxi and “Nelly – Ride wit me” came on.  Me and Lewy Poeey absolutely fucking smashed it mate.  Taxi driver was lovin’ it!

If you wanna go and get high wit me
Smoke a L in the back of the Benz-y
Oh why must I feel this way? (Hey, must be the money!)

Ok.  So we’re only at day 1 and day 2 was better than day 1.  I think I’ll have to do this in two parts.

Still to come in part 2…..a treasure hunt…..deserted towns….wrong turns…..nitrous oxide……..military testing and our 1st McFlurry in 4 years.

Hold tight!!

RnR!!

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The kids came to me….I’m not a paedo.


A couple of weeks ago the bird hands me a dodgy looking envelope that had been left outside our kitchen door.  “What’s in it?” she asked me…..I don’t fucking know, you just this second handed it to me un-opened….is what I thought.  “I’m not sure babe, let’s have a look shall we?”……is what I said.

I didn’t really call her “babe”.  I’m not a complete cunt.  She’s my Pwincess.

Anyway.  It wasn’t anthrax.  It was a pretty illegible note from a child.   It took me a couple of reads to understand what it was all about.   I’ll translate in-case you’re having trouble:

Dear Neighbour,

Me and my friend were wondering if you could open the shed because he pointed out it would make a perfect den, if you’re not using it.

From Fred.

P.S. My name is Laouerna (pronounced Lawana) and I have written this note on behalf of Fred.

So I guess I should point out that we have a nice little garden in the new gaff.  At the end of which we have a lovely shed.  I say shed.  As you can see from the picture, I think you’ll agree it’s more of a summer house.  I know what you’re all thinking.  A flat in Dalston and a summer house!? We’ve worked hard, what can I say.

I remember what it was like to be a young lad, and Fred’s mate is right, it would make a bloody brilliant den.  So, being the nice bloke that I am (and to butter the neighbours up for when the house warming happens…..I’m always thinking me).  I sent them this note to give them the green light:

I pinned it to the shed summer house door.  After about half an hour of it being there I realised that Fred’s mate probably hadn’t spoken to his parents about their plan.

A note from a 26 year old bloke with a beard, to a couple of young lads about hanging out with them in a shed and keeping secrets wouldn’t look too good…..the sinister cartoon with paedo eyebrows would probably just add fuel to the fire as well.

So before anyone could petrol bomb the flat I nipped down and added the “PLEASE CHECK THAT THIS IS OK WITH YOUR PARTENTS!!”*.  A smart move.

I checked back a couple of days later and this had been pinned up.  It’s amazing.  I like that his Mum has been through and made corrections and they’ve had a bit of Mum/Son banter.

On the back of the note there were some more grammar exercises.  I remember my Mum doing a similar thing with me when I was a boy.  Their was a good reason, as I’ve never had problems with the correct usage of they’re/there/their, not like my Brother & Sister, there always getting it wrong.

So we’ve made some friends.  Been neighbourly and got some beers. Granted they were Buds which doesn’t really count, but they’re alright to palm off to visitors innit.

They were playing out there last weekend with their diggers and stuff.  I was pretty jealous.

It made me realise that I’ve grown up too quickly.  I now live with a girl who will never want to play diggers.  Where did it all go wrong!?

I was going to take some pics but I think I’m running pretty close to the paedo line as it is.

RnR!

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My 1st trip to the doctor in 3 years


Had to register with a new doctors last week.  Went in to pick up some new patient forms.  They also give you a little pot to take away and bring back full of wee week.  The handover’s a bit embarrassing but at least it gives you a chance to flush yourself out a bit before you give it in.  My appointment was in the morning, it’s never giving a piss sample first thing is it?  All Oringina-y and stinking of sugar puffs.

To get a nice colouring I had planned to fill it up the night before, but it slipped my mind.  I had to get up early and down a few pints of water to thin it out a bit.  I didn’t think it was going to work its way through in time but I just managed to force a decent one out and get there on time.

It was still quite warm so there was a fair bit of condensation in there as well.  I don’t know if that affects the results.  I was going to pop it in the fridge for a bit but I was in a mad rush.   I’m not sure if they give you any feedback or if they just pop a bit of litmus paper in there and see how you compare to various bars of soap.

I got a bit confused and tried to hand it to the receptionist with my forms.  To see someone recoil from your pot isn’t a nice feeling, especially after going to all that effort.  God knows what her reaction would’ve been if it had of been the first slash of the day.  I had to scramble it red faced back into my pocket.  It’s weird sitting there with everyone aware that you’ve got piss in your cardigan pocket.

While I was waiting I got talking to a old guy called Stanley.  Stanley Rag.  He was nice.  I don’t know what it is about doctors surgery’s that makes people think they can tell a stranger about their reasons for being there.  He was telling me in quite a bit of detail about his kidney infection and how much it hurt when he went to the toilet.  He was being quite candid and I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed, so I told him about the piss handover fiasco to try and make it a, we’re all in this together chat.  He didn’t really seem interested.

I would help any of these women pick their leggings out of their fanny. Apart from Paris Hilton. I'd push hers further up. Maybe out of her mouth.

He also said that he has a cupboard full of pots and he occasionally just pops into the hospital unannounced with a little sample to see what’s going on.  I think Stanley is great.  I got the impression that the staff though he was a bit of a pain in arse though.

Poor ol’ Stanley, I think he just gets bored and wee’s in stuff to keep himself occupied.  I hope I live to an age where I can get away with shit like that.

I’ve got to go to the asthma clinic on Monday because that’s where all the cool kids go.  Trying to swing one of those hayfever injections as well to stop me being such a fucking baby for 4 months.  I’ll let you know how get on obviously.  I know you’re riveted.

Oh.  I almost forgot.  While I was waiting I saw a lady pick her leggings out of her fanny.  I’d never seen anyone do that before.  Perhaps if you have a hungry fanny then tight leggings aren’t really for you.

RnR!

p.s. I have normal blood pressure.  I’m 14 stone 2 pounds and a couple of cm’s short of six feet three inches.  I also have nice hair and a handsome face but the nurse didn’t put that on my forms because she’s a twat.

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LCD Soundsystem – Drunk Girls


I’ve been hearing mixed reviews of the new and final album from LCD Soundsystem….I’ve not heard much of it so I’ll reserve judgement for now….although to be fair it’s going to be have to be complete and utter shit for me not to like it.

They can do very little wrong in my eyes. James Murphy’s a fucking dude inhe.

This is the video for the new single Drunk Girls.  One take, they don’t know what’s going to happen. It’s carnage. It’s ace……and Nancy Whang…..ker-fucking-ching!!

I’ll be seeing them at Bestival this year…..hopefully dressed as Care Bear.

That’ll be nice.

RnR

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There’s always one dickhead that forgets it’s non-school uniform day!


A page from my leavers book

Saw a boy on the bus today who had forgotten it was last day of term at school and was wearing his uniform.  All his mates were in their jeans giving him grief.  There’s always one dickhead!

I was pretty close to jumping into the argument and fighting his corner though to be honest.  I’d rather be in uniform, save the quid and not have to wear an Ed Hardy t-shirt.   You can imagine them in lessons today getting fuck all done, just whispering about what girl’s looking the best in their tightest casual clobber.  Lucky boys!

It’s a great day to check out how the birds are filling out, and if you played your cards right you could secure yourself a nice little toss off.  Them were the days.

I always used to raid my brothers wardrobe on non-uniform days.  A fine selection of Ben Sherman’s and denim jackets, had to race home and get them off before he got back from work and I got the old “who’s the king….say I’m the king” treatment though.

I was the da main man 3 times a year.  Well, I thought I was anyway.  I didn’t get much action though.  Probably a bit too unapproachable I reckon.  Yeah, that must’ve been it.  I know the girls loved my highlights.  Knocked ’em bandy they did.

I remember being in my final year and a 1st year rocked up on the last day of term with a carrier bag full of games.  I used to love that in Primary.  A day of eating party rings and playing top trumps.

Poor little bastard, what a massive fail.  Probably went through 5 years of senior school always being known as the fuckwit who bought in Pop up Pirate.  He got massive beats for that, and relieved of his games.  Best day in the common room that day playing Buckaroo…well….apart from when the proper nuaghty lad shut our head of year’s fingers in the door.  That was pretty cool.

I hated school but I loved that all that playground shit.  Dead legs, camel bites, peanuts and cupping farts in you mates face while all the girls sit around reading Smash Hits and bemoaning the fact that we were “SO immature!”.  Cars don’t make the man you know.  Being able to wipe bogey’s on your teacher without them noticing is pretty fucking hot as well.   Stupid cows.

Ummmmmm.  I’ve kind of of lost the point of what I was going to write about now.

Oh yeah.  Our unscrupulous landlords are kicking us out of our Hackney Palace so I’m moving in with the bit of fluff this weekend.  Got ourselves a nice little gaff just around the corner in Hackney proper. The bird’s obviously well chuffed getting to have me to herself.

What a way to spend a 4 day weekend.  Moving shit and trips to Wilko’s for toilet brushes and bath mats.  Right laugh!

I’ve got a stag do, a house move and the breaking-up of me and Harry Malteaster to fill you in on, but I guess I’ll do all that next week.

Have a wonderful Easter.  If I were you girls I’d steer clear of the eggs.  Summer’s just round the corner and most of you could probably do with shifting some timber, not putting it on.

Bye de byeeee.

RnR!

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