Wednesday 14 March 2012

A quiet pint



Dedicated to 'quiet' pints.

A quiet pint, that's how it always begins.
You're soon talking rubbish & wearing silly grins.
It doesn’t take long before a plan gets made.
It starts off as a banger, but ends up as a grenade.
A few more pints, a few more jars
Suddenly it’s a tour of all your favourite bars.
Shall I text the ex? Nah not a good idea…
I think I'll just chill and have another beer.
One down, two down,
What about town?
Where to go next?

Hang fire, mate,

Let me send a quick text.
Shall we go here? Shall we go there?
I don't give a shit, I don't care.

I love you man, your my very best mate.
It's time for bed, I think it's getting pretty late.
On try number four my key gets in the door.
If I don't make it to my room I'm kipping on the floor.

Where the hell did I get this traffic cone from? I am not a student.

Monday 23 January 2012

Ripples



Every single thing you have done today has set in motion a veritable tidal wave of events. I mean everything. From paying a bill online to taking ten seconds too long to get the right change together in the shop. Your bill payment might have caused a little glitch in a batch run of software that ruins an engineer’s day and sends him home in a bad mood. Your extra ten seconds might stop someone leaving the shop and getting hit by a bus, stopping him ever having kids. One of his children might have even discovered the cure for cancer or something equally momentous.
Every. Single. Thing. You. Have. Done. Today.
It has started a whole cascade of events that you have no control over whatsoever.
Events that will bang around and echo from here until forever. Just think. Something you do today. No matter how small. No matter how insignificant. It is going to roll through history forever. Now don’t do anything stupid. You might not regret it, but someone, somewhere, a thousand years down the line might. But don’t let you ruin your day now. No Pressure.
Just get on with your day-to-day shit. It’s not tomorrow yet. It’s today. It’s always today. Fuck tomorrow until it gets here.

Monday 16 January 2012

A very short story about a man called Tony. Tony is an arsehole.

Feeding time

An over confident strut with a great white sharks smile. That’s the best way to describe Tony October. He swam into the crowded smoky local. Beady black eyes darting left and right for prey. His cheap faux mohican cutting through the crowds like a fin.
“Tony, nice to see you again mate.”
“Tony you fucker, how you doing?”
A dozen insincere comments uttered through gritted teeth, the speaker eager to return to their own conversations. Fear and uncertainty. Tony could smell it amongst them like fresh blood, they reeked of it.
Tony loved it.
He thrived on his ‘psycho’ reputation.
Hard man.
Nutter.
No one fucks with Tony. Not if they value their looks.
His ‘leather’ jacket creaked as he slithered through the crowds. A miasma of counterfeit aftershave and stale cigarette smoke followed in his wake. The sea of drinkers closed up behind him as he made his way to the bar like a school of fish startled by a larger specimen.
Tony’s bony fingers drummed a staccato rhythm out on the bar. He stared at the barmaids back as she poured a double vodka and coke.
“Any time today love.” Even normal polite phrases dripped with a sleazy menace.
She turned to face Tony. The smile fell off her face like a child falling off a bike.
“What can I get you Tony?”
“Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. Where are your manners? You know what I want.” Words iced with a sneer.
“To drink Tony. What can I get you to drink?”
A soft tap on his arm. Tony turned .
“Excuse me ‘mate’ I think I was here first. I’ll take two carlings please.”
Tony’s eyes narrowed to bullet holes as he placed his left hand on the man’s shoulder, his right dipping into his pocket. He leaned in close and whispered into the man’s ear.
“Listen you cunt. I’ve got a stanley knife right here in my pocket, and if you don’t fuck off out of it sharpish. I am going leave you with a fucking big smile on your face. A permanent one. Understand?”
He pulled back and gave the man a smile like a mouthful of swords. The man stuttered and backed away into the crowd.
“Now, where were we? Ah yes. You were getting me a drink weren’t you?”
“Carling?”
“That’s right. You remembered. How sweet.”
“£2.60” Hand out to him as she opened the till drawer.
“In a minute now, don’t rush me. You know I don’t like being rushed now do I?”
He sipped his beer with a theatrical flourish.
“I hear your brother had a bit of hassle last a while back didn’t he?”
“You know he did Tony. He will be pissing through a tube for the rest of his life thanks to those bastards. He doesn’t even recognise me anymore.”
“Nasty”. Cold statement of fact. No empathy at all.
“You…you… don’t know anything about it who did it do you Tony?”
“Me? No, I don’t mix with that sort.” A sly grin.
‘If you do hear anything…from anyone…please let the police know. Please?’ A watery eye, a wipe with a sleeve.
“For you darling, of course. Of course. Now if you will excuse me. Got to go to the little boys room.”
Tony swigged from his pint and placed it on the bar.
“‘Don’t let no fucker nick that.”
He walked to the toilets round the corner from the bar. Clean white tiles, bright lighting and bleach couldn’t hide the aroma of stale piss in the air. Tony opened the door to the cubicle and locked it behind him. He fished in his jacket for the wrap of coke and chopped out a line on the top of the cistern. A swiftly rolled twenty went up his nose and made the coke disappear like a magician’s wand. Tony dabbed his finger into the remnants and rubbed it into his gums. He pulled the chain for the sake of appearance and unlocked the cubicle. He walked over to the sink and glared into the mirror. The sharks smile staring back with blood shot eyes. A small spot of blood under his nostril. Quickly sorted out with a dab of tissue. Tony pulled down the skin under his eyes to check his bloodshot eyeballs as he heard the door open behind him.
“Well, well, well…if it isn’t Mr impatient?”
Tony stalked across the bathroom towards the man from the bar. His hand snaking into his pocket. The man backed away towards the cubicle.
Tony quickly lashed out with his left hand and grabbed the man by the throat and pushed him backwards into the stall. He elbowed the door shut behind him.
“Look mate, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not looking for trouble…”
His voice laced with terror as Tony brought the Stanley knife up to his eye and slowly clicked the blade open. Fluorescent lighting danced across the blades edge as he held it millimetres from the terrified man’s eye as he held onto the back of his head with a fistful of hair.

“Thing is ‘mate’, sometimes, trouble comes looking for you.” Tony’s smile widened.
“I don’t like impatient CUNTS! Like you. People like you make me…A bit sad” A sad face emoticon made flesh in mocking delight.

“I’m sorry…look…take my wallet mate, It’s in my pocket.”

“Oh I am taking that alright. Consider it a fine for bad manners.”

He rifled in the man’s pocket and pulled out his wallet.
“Thank you very much.” He patted the man on the cheek with the wallet.
“Now, do I carve you up after you have been so gracious? Or do I just slice your bollocks off and flush ‘em away? Choices, choices…”
He slowly trailed the razor sharp edge down the man’s front towards his groin. A large dark patch quickly spread across his crotch. The stench of fear filled the cubicle, overwhelming all the other smells in the room.
“Now seeing as you obviously don’t know who I am, and you have been so generous I think I will let you go. This time.”
The man’s voice broke as he whimpered “Thank you, thank you. I won’t say anything, I won’t say a word...”
“I know you won’t say a fucking word. Because I’ve got your wallet and I know where you live.”
Tony clicked the blade shut and slipped it back into his pocket. He stood up and offered his hand out to the man. Urine dribbled from his trouser leg onto the floor.
“Now, let me give you a hand and let’s forget all this misunderstanding shall we? I’ll get you a pint eh?”

The man looked confused as took Tony’s hand and was pulled him to his feet.
Tony swiftly launched a vicious head-butt into the man’s face and felt the nose cartilage break under the blow. The man stumbled back into the cubicle and Tony pulled the door closed.
Once again he went to the mirror to check his hair and face.
As he washed his hands he saw the reflection of the cubicle behind him. The man’s shoes visible beneath the door in a puddle of urine.

“Might want to sort that out mate. You have got a bit of piss on your trousers!” he shouted back to the cubicle.

Tony smiled and walked back into the bar. He headed straight for his half pint and picked it up and drained it in one long swallow.

“Same again” Waving his empty glass at the barmaid.
Without a word she poured him another pint and took his money. Tony felt good. Top of the world. The big man in charge.

Twenty minutes later and Tony started to feel the beer. Only it wasn’t quite just the beer. It must have been the gear. That cheap cunt cutting it up with all sorts of shite. I’ll sort that cunt out when I see him next. Mind you, I didn’t even pay for it so who so who I to complain? Thoughts were tumbling through his head. Not quite making sense. Not quite right. I need some fucking fresh air. That will sort me out. Tony weaved through the crowds Footsteps lurching. Vision blurred and the world lurching like a broken waltzer at a fair ground. Finally outside in the fresh air. No better. A figure in a hooded top appeared in front of him.

“You look in a bad way… Let’s get you sat down for five minutes. Come on, over here.” The voice sounded as if it came from another time, another place. Hazy and distorted like a warped record.

Tony let out laugh. Only it wasn’t a laugh, it was a splutter, white foam dripped from his lips. The hooded figure ushered. Tony obeyed; he had no idea what else to do. Tony wasn’t even sure who Tony was anymore. The figure guided Tony into an alleyway and dumped him in the shadows.

The shadowy figure pulled back the hood and smiled. A face swam into vision for a second and was gone. Lucy. She smiled and slapped Tony across the face hard. Reality snapped back for a second, but he couldn’t grasp it quickly enough.
“It’s me Tony. Carl’s sister. Can you see me tony? Do you know who I am?”
“Ahhh so you do want to fuck me eh? I knew it.” They only sounded like words in his head. Just burbling noises to the rest of the world.

“I know who did that to Carl. I saw the CCTV footage. Kicking him. Beating him across the head with that brick. You did it Tony. It was you. You jumped on his fucking head! YOU ANIMAL!” She punctuated each sentence with a sharp slap across the face.

“He was a prick. Bad manners. I don’t like bad manners…” Unidentifiable sounds and guttural noises spewed from his mouth.

Lucy stood up and produced a hammer and a plastic bag from the front pocket on her hoody.

“No CCTV this time Tony. I made sure Tony. I have unplugged it.”

She wrapped the clear plastic bag around Tony’s head and pulled it tight. He couldn’t even struggle.

“Wrap of ketamine in your pint. That’s all it took. ‘Big Man’ Tony. Tricked. Not so fucking clever now are you Tony?”

She swung the hammer as hard as she could at Tony’s head. The crack sounded like an egg being broken. She swung again and again. As the plastic bag filled with Tony’s blood, it filled his mouth and choked him. One final clear thought went through Tony’s shattered skull before the darkness enveloped him...

No matter how big a fish you are, no matter how much of a hard cunt you think you are. There is always another fish with sharper teeth waiting to take a bite out of you.

Sunday 15 January 2012

Skipping vinyl...

Not actual skipping vinyl. Metaphorical vinyl.

Ever had a mental blip that just keeps coming round and round and causes the steady beat and rhythm of your day-to-day life to skip out of sync?

Well that's what I had up until recently.

I could be happily going about my business with my normal 'don't give two flying fucks' attitude then suddenly...

Screeaaaatchhh..skip. skip. skip. skip.

The little mental imperfection in the vinyl causes the needle of your concentration to slip across the grooves. The same little distorted loop of music repeats itself, sounding more and more out of place with the rest of the song.

If you don't do something about it you end up ruining the song for yourself as you will always hear that skipping, self repeating version.

Anyway, I found a simple solution...

Change the record or wipe it down. Do something about it.

I changed the record today and got rid of the blip.


Job done.

And the beat goes on...