Take that pineapple off of your head

It seems appropriate at this point to take a break from this developing story and mention that my very dodgy sponsor has returned finally from his prolonged educational holiday. Nice one mighty white, London always appreciates your presence. And your presents.

I remember being in the Bull and Bush one new year's eve and Treble was sooo fucked that we had covered the table in front of him entirely with pint glasses so that if he did puke it would mostly be contained. Ok, so we were all pretty fucked too, I did say it was new years after all. Anyway, eventually he looked so fucked that someone must have told a bouncer to sort him out as one started very deliberately working his way through the crowd towards us. Luckily for our little drunkard (we were underage at this point), another little drunkard staggered over and sat next to James and knocked lots of the glasses on the table as he sat down. The bouncer turned up and saw this little fuck up trying to steady a table full of empty pints and grabbed him and dragged him out. We all cracked up at the near miss and were most likely discussing how James would never know how close he had come when we turned round and realised he was gone.

I doubt we were particularly worried as James can look after himself, but either in search of him, or because I needed to make peace with the Germans, I went to the toilet and bumped into him. He was washing leaning over the sink with the taps running, splashing water onto his face. Now as it was New years, so the toilets were particularly ram packed, and because it was a bit of a shit hole anyway, people had been peeing in the sink all night. It had it’s own individual queue for most of the night. So based on this unsavoury information I started telling him to stop as it’s probably pretty rank, but as long as he gets the water straight from the tap it’s alright. But then I realised he had blocked up the sink, so I started lecturing him about cleanliness. Until he finally interrupted with “What are you talking about, I didn’t plug the sink”. I looked again. Someone else had blocked it. With puke. And Whiteboy was scooping from the water which had settled on the top.

I suppose that boy has enough stories of me being the fucked up one though. Or when he’s fucked me up. I’ll never forget the time we were both entirely off our nuts and reality was seeming pretty hard to keep in touch with. Everything felt like sand for one thing. And luckily enough, we were right by a beach so went and stood barefoot on the sand saying “Wow, everything feels like this!”. But anyway, I remember sitting there trying to keep track of who I was, why I was laughing and why I wasn’t feeling quite right, when James turned to me and said “Man, did you remember to close the shop”. My complete confusion erupted out of every pore in my brain. “What?” was all I could say, but not in a “What the fuck are you talking about” kind of way, more in a “Shit, what have I forgotten” kinda way. “The shop man, it was your turn to close it. Shit man did you forget to close the shop? You better go close it man”. And so on. I’ve never closed any shop in my life. That really fucked me up. That bastard.

I think James is best summed up with a similar incident when he was trying to fuck with another friend of ours when he was fucked. “Hey look man, you’ve got a frog on your foot” was his line of attack this time. The reply was “Hey James, you’ve got an idiot in your head”. He probably does you know. Only joking, James it’s good to have you back. You’re a legend. A very dodgy legend.