Tag Archives: Vice

We went to Thailand, so what? – Part 1


Done in two parts, this is everything you need to know about my holiday. If there’s something within these posts that you genuinely want to ask me about, then I’ll consider elaborating, but essentially this is it.  No need to ask me if I had a good time.

Here we go then, let’s get this out of the way.

Gemdog gave us a heads up of a nice little place to stay in Bangkok that had a pool on the roof.  The room had a 12 inch old style TV (NOT FLAT SCREEN) that was mounted in the top left corner of the room.  It had a few channels, most of which were FOREIGN.  We ended up having to watch the news most of time, which was alright actually as there were a load of other FOREIGNERS chucking stuff at the police n that and it looked a bit like a film.  It was in Choonizia.  They looked really angry and I thought “my God!, don’t tell me they’ve raised tuition fees there as well!?”.  Turns out that they were just unhappy with borin shit like corruption and human rights abuses, they didn’t even seem to have bothered making amusing placards.  Lazy.

In Thailand they have shit roll but you MUST NOT put the shit roll down the toilet.  You have to wipe your bum and put the shit roll in the bin.  As well as shit roll they have a bum-hose.  The bum hose is the more traditional way to wipe your bum.  It blasts the skids from your anus with a jet of water.  The bum hose in Bangkok was of medium ferocity.  I mostly got the back of my balls on my1st attempt.  I sat there for a bit waiting for them to dry but I got bored so just went out with soggy balls.

We didn’t use the pool.

After a couple of days we flew down to Phuket.  I could wax lyrical about Phuket.  The sights and sounds of Patong, the beach, the views……but one thing stands out….the cocktails.

 

You'd pay what? £8 maybe £9 for this in London.....£1.40.

We got a boat from Phuket down to Phi-Phi.  I quite like boats.  This boat was ok but not the best boat I’ve ever been on.  The best boat I’ve ever been on was the Folkstone to Calais Sea Cat when me and Dad went over to Eastenders to get a load of Old Holborn to knock out to his mates at work.

I thought the trip might be a bit boring but I couldn’t have been more wrong!  First they played an Eric Clapton concert and then Mr Bean.  When they cut Mr Bean mid-episode (does anyone know how he actually gets on at the dentist!!!??) I was pretty pissed off, but we were arriving at Phi-Phi.

Friends had tried to tell me just how beautiful the island is, but nothing could prepare me.  Words, or at least my words, simply cannot do it justice.  Fortunately we had the digital SLR at hand for such moments.  As I took this shot I thought our memory card might just fucking BLOW UP there was so much to take in.

Hard to believe that this was one of the hardest hit places by the Tsunami.

The place we had planned to stay was fully booked so we just winged it when we were there.  We ended up in a room with an 18 inch LCD TV with some pretty decent channels.  There was an alright film channel and we watched one where a young cheerleader is regularly raped by her Dad and another one where these kids have their throats ripped out by rabid dogs.  It was very sunny.

I thought I had cracked how to properly operate the bum hose, but the one on Phi-Phi was much more ferocious than previous ones. It was so strong that it blasted my willy out of the way and I sprayed the wall.

The toliet itself didn’t have a flush, but they did supply a bucket which you had to fill up with water from the bumhose and pour down the bog.  Luckily for me I got food poisoning from some chicken on a stick while we were here.  I quite enjoyed having to stare at my puke while I filled up the bum hose flush bucket.  I poured too much water down one time and it was touch and go whether the chicken on stick puke and the bum hose flush water would breach the top of the bowl.  It didn’t.

The sun-sets on Phi-Phi are unlike anything I’ve experienced before.  The light dances across the water, accentuainting the piercing white spray from the wake of the elaboratrly adorned long tails.  Transforming the lush green limestone hill-sides into dark arms that appear to embrace you, seeming ly offering protection from the almost supernatural ocean.

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

Little known fact: Phi-Phi is backward cap wearing fuck stick capital of the world.

I’ll leave it there for now, I’m aware that it’s alot to take in.

Part 2 to follow tomorrow….maybe.


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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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They stole bike, they stole my shoes.


I come to you with extremely sad news.  My bike, my lovely shiny new bike has been stolen.  It happened a couple of weeks ago but I’ve been too upset to tell you about it.  I popped for a couple Whiskey Sours with Gem Dog and Jimbo, came out and it’d gone.  Just wandered up and down for a bit on Mare St.  Not quite sure why.   I wasn’t sure what you’re supposed to do when someone nicks your stuff.

I’ve only ever had one other meaningful possession stolen from me before this.  They were a pair of black suede Air Jordan high tops when I was about 12.  I had them at the back end of my spiffy jeans phase in about 1995, I loved them.  They made me look like a right cool mother.

They were the one of the things that in hindsight I feel quite guilty about even having owned; no not because they’re absolute rascals!  My folks never had much money when we were growing up and I pestered my Mum for weeks to get them, probably making her feel really guilty and generally being prepubescent little shit to get my way.  Mum told me that if my Dad asked how much they cost I had to tell him they were on sale and were £30.  He did ask, I told him they were £30, he wasn’t happy, he argued with my Mum.  They were actually £60.

I’ve been thinking about stuff like that alot recently.  I’m sure I was no worse than any other teenager wanting what the other kids had, but now when I really understand the value of money it makes me cringe thinking about what a strain I must’ve put on my parents.

My Dad worked 12 hour shifts as a mechanic and would get up to do private work after 5 hours sleep pretty much everyday.  Mum worked as a dinner lady and done some cleaning when we were young for the extra cash.  £60 was probably a weeks food shopping for the five of us.

I never realised what a big deal a pair of £60 trainers would be for us back then.  I remember her craftily colouring in the scuff marks on the toes with a black marker pen when I came in from playing football in them one day.  She’d always give them a once over with the suede brush when I took them off and they must’ve had about 4 cans of suede proofer used on them in their short life.  All delaying tactics for the next instalment of bitching and whining and another £60 we couldn’t really afford.

Then one day on the way home from school some bigger boys from one of the rough estates stopped me and my mate and demanded our shoes.  We’d heard about some kids from the other secondary school having their shoes nicked but just thought it was one of those bullshit stories like getting your head flushed down the toilet or that film where the woman gets shagged by a horse and licked out by a cow.

So yeah.  They gave me a punch in the side of the head (made my ear bleed) and took my trainers.  It had been raining and I remember people in cars slowing down to look at the chubby ginger kid crying and pulling his soggy socks up at the side of the road.  All I could think about was my Mum meticulously colouring in the scuff marks and how up-set she would be if she found out I they had been stolen.

I recall walking in the back door of the house, my wet socks slapping against the vinyl flooring.  I walked straight up to my room, lay face down on my bed and cried for about an hour.

I never told my Mum about what happened to those trainers.  I told her that I left them somewhere.  She shouted at me, probably thinking I had chucked them as I didn’t want them any-more.  I cried again.

When I told Mum about my bike she offered to give me some money for a new one.  I am 27 and have a vaguely professional career.  I’m still her little soldier.  When I put the phone down I thought about my Mum and my Nike Air Jordan’s.

I love my Mum.

I did a similar thing after walking home from having my bike stolen, walked through the front door, lay face down on my bed and cried.

HA!  I didn’t really!  Me!? Cry!? Don’t be a prick.  I drank half a bottle of brandy and watched Babestation.

RnR.

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Bestival – The alpaca the pig and the lazy donkey


Alpaca’s are my 3rd favourite animals behind elephants and sloths, so imagine my excitement when we went for a walk and stumbled across a pets corner with a few of the cheeky little rascals kicking about.

Look at this one.  Chilling out with the horse.  Having a bit of lunch.  Enjoying the view.  Ain’t he cute!?  Awwwww.

I’m not such a big fan of horses, but this one was nice.  He wandered over and a gave him a little rub on his hooter.  I didn’t have any sugar lumps to feed him so I just picked up some grass.  That’s probably better for him anyway, I don’t really understand why you would give a horse sugar?  I remembered to keep my palm flat.  You must ALWAYS keep your palm FLAT when you’re feeding a horse otherwise it will definitely eat your fingers.

A guy I used to work with used to say that he fed a girls horse when he stimulated their female lady lips.   He used to go “Yeah I fed ‘er horse up last night, it was well ‘ungry” and show me with a gesture as if feeding a hungry horse.

Then we come across this pair.  I’m not quite sure what had happened, but the Alpaca seemed to have had some sort of accident and couldn’t use his legs properly.  From the way he was whining and screeching I think it must’ve been pretty bad.  He could barely walk!

He and the pig must’ve been really good friends as pig was trying to give him a piggy back.  The Alpaca was much bigger than the poor little pig though and she looked to be in some discomfort herself as she tried to carry him.

There were other Alpaca’s there but none of them came to help the pig carry him.  Even the donkey who would’ve been much more useful in aiding the stricken Alpaca didn’t come to help, and that’s kind of what a donkey’s job is.  To carry stuff n that.  It was very upsetting.

Lewy Pooey decided to film it.  I’m not sure why.  I think it was so that if the pig were to be seriously hurt he could show her owners what had happened and they could piece together the puzzle.

With much difficulty the pig managed to carry him all the way over to the edge of the field, but it all appeared to have taken it’s toll on the poor swine and she had to give up…..

I think her husband was due home from work.

When we were at Bestival we found a stall that sold lots of knitted stuff.

Lewy had been smoking these things he called “Bifta’s”.  I was a bit confused as I thought Bifta’s were those great big bins that you got tugged off behind when you’re at school.  Anyway.  These bifta things made him all smiley and happy and when he saw that some of the knitted stuff was made from Alpaca fluff he immediately bought one.  I think the proceeds must’ve gone into some sort of Alpaca benevolent fund or sumfink.

That’s what I love about Lewy.  Even when he’s having fun with bifta’s and stuff he still thinks about that Alpaca and his poorly leg.

xx

RnR

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Bestival – Gem Dog’s wee hole


I'd She Wee on his head. I'd She Shit on his head.

The plan was to do loads of Bestival posts last week, but between you and me I’ve been struggling.  I’ve felt progressively worse every day since last Tuesday.  I was pretty sure  I’d be dead by today.

I’m not though.  Look! Here I am! Hello!  I feel much better now, thanks for asking.

There’s too many black holes holes in my memory to be able take you through our weekend as it happened, so what I thought I’d do is just post stuff as/when they come back to me.

One of the first things  I had written in my notebook that came to mind was:

“Gemdog and her wee hole”

Because girls are such dirty little buggers and piss everywhere when they go toilet, they have to hover above the seat when they have a wee otherwise they’ll get other people’s slash all over their bum-cheeks.  It must be an awful strain on their legs.  I think that’s why a lot of girls have such big thighs.

Gemdog brought a thing called a “she wee” with her so that she could have a wee standing up like a civilised human man.  We had a bit of trouble figuring out which way round it went but then Lewy said that “It don’t go that way round, underneath is where ya wee ‘ole is”.  He is very bright and we managed to work it out.

I thought the “She Wee” was a very good idea but one of the other girls with us didn’t think it would work because you couldn’t control how fast your wee came out and it would go all over your hands.

I don’t think this girl wee’d like normal people.  I think she had a sort of trap door wee hole where you pulled a cord and it all came gushing out at once.  Kind of like on Noel’s House Party when all those bent heads get gunged…’cept it weren’t gunge it was pissssssssss.

The same girl also gave some bloke a blowjob down an alley way in Torremolinos with a kebab in one hand and the cock in the other.

She also wanks at work and everyone at work knows that she wanks at work, so when she comes back from having a wank at work all the boys at work sniff their fingers.  I said to her “how do the boys know you wank at work?”.  She said “because I always go in the disabled toilet coz it’s got a full length mirror”……..”and I told them that I wank at work”.

She was very nice but made me a bit uneasy.

Bye bye.

RnR xx

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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 Creators Project – Battles – United Visual Artists


Where have you been I hear you cry!?

Well….the thing is…..sometimes I’m so busy being fucking brilliant in the real world that I forget about you lot……that and I’ve just recently discovered Mario Kart.  It’s been taking up an awful lot of my time it has.

Granted I might be about 10 years behind you geeky fucks that have to buy everything as soon as it comes out, but I’m absolutely all over this shit.  I’ve kind of mastered up to the Star Cup at 150cc and now I’m trying to use different characters other than Mario.

I’m finding it a bit difficult adjusting my style to fit the others attributes to be honest.   Peach is a bit too lightweight for my aggressive technique.  Bowser is very cumbersome.  Yoshi, Toad and Luigi look/sound like utter cock sticks…….and don’t even get me started on Donkey Kong.  I can’t bear that cunt.

I was going to attempt a video blog on it, but after filming myself playing, the only footage was essentially me repeatedly screaming: “SLAG“…..”SHIT“……”FUCK“……”ARSEHOLE“….and leaning so far out of shot to try and get round a corner that it was pretty much useless.  Vaguely amusing, but useless.

I decided to show you this instead.  Battles have been one of my favourites for a long time now.  Their gig at The Astoria was not only the best gig I went to in 2008, but one of my best full stop.

The combination of the music and the lighting is something else.  I’m never quite sure who knocks up the visuals for shows like theirs.  I assumed (rather stupidly) that the band themselves would pull it together.  Especially now with people having alot more technology at their disposal.  This landed in my in-box this afternoon and now all is clear.

United Visual Artists have worked on a number of things for Battles and Massive Attack, as well as art installations and shows for fashion houses such as Y3.

All of their stuff is pretty mind-blowing, but it’s the work with Battles really works for me.  To totally “get” what they are about and come up with something so perfect for the sound is no mean feat.  They do it fucking brilliantly.

This is one of my fav tunes and if you watch the video you’ll completely understand what I mean about the synergy between audio/visual.

Vodpod videos no longer available.

I won’t leave it so long between posts this time.  I’m off to Dorset this weekend for Lewy Pooey’s birthday.  He’s a bit of a prat so he’ll probably give me plenty of fuel for all of our amusement.

Easy

RnR

more about “The Creators Project – Battles – Uni…“, posted with vodpod

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