I was hungover from the night before. Dragged to the football. I had a couple of beers beforehand with my cousin and his football buddies. Those guys love me, because one evening after a football game I got a bit carried away and ended up ordering £140 worth of shots on the Wetherspoons app.
Anyway we were due to me at a pub called the Clifton Arms. It's right by Selhurst Park stadium. Most of the time it's a relatively quiet community pub. It's also filled with people who look at you suspiciously if you turn up to watch the cricket wearing a double breasted blazer. I don't really go there because of that and well they have no ale on tap. On match days it is packed. With football, not soccer for our Yankee readers, the separation of the fans extends to pubs and bars before and after the games. This is one of the pubs home supporters are permitted to attend.
I had awoken with quite the fog. I had a shower and coffee and was running half an hour late for the rendezvous in the Clifton Arms. I picked up a packet of cigarettes and left my flat. Puffing at least three in the five minute walk to the pub. I had arrived.
As I squeezed my way through my fellow Palace fans, the boys saw that I was hanging and ensured that I had enough beers to get on level and survive the game. We were squeezed up against the wall. The squad was announced "what is Vieira doing?" A lot of people were muttering. I do not really care about football, but I have a soft spot for that Frenchman. When I was growing up he was playing for Arsenal and I always admired his ruthless aggression. He was one of those characters who wasn't afraid of a heavy amount of contact and would do anything to win.
Anyway we head to the stadium have some beers and then the whistle is blown for the game to start. Due to the culture of hooliganism in football no alcohol is allowed with a view of the pitch. It is another barrier which impacts my enjoyment of the game. I neck the pint down and go to my seat. My cousin sits in the stand called the holmsdale. This stand is for hooligans. It's right behind the goal. No one sits. There are fan groups, one of the most notable is called "the Holmsdale fanatics" they have flags and they organise every song with a megaphone. It's an atmosphere, but for fuck sake I want sit down and enjoy an alcoholic beverage.
Half time. One of my cousins football friends is peaking. He goes into the toilets. He has a little chunder. He says some of his urine got into his pint whilst he put it on the floor piss. He still drank it. I'm slightly disgusted. I finish my pint and we return to the stand for the second half.
The match ends nil nil. A draw. The others are too gone to go on for further drinks. The cousin and I go to these great bar called the Railway Telegraph for more drinks. They have karaoke on. My cousin loves that. I predominantly am outside for most of it drinking, smoking and chatting. I go in to sing only one song... the tequila song. Its effortless and people love it.
I'm hammered. It's coming up to closing. My cousin is talking to one of the regulars. He said he's heading off. I tell him I'll catch him later. I'm heavily flirting with this regular. Fear I am being the complete opposite of subtle. We get kicked out we walk in the same direction. I end up screwing her in her car. Its a small early 90s Renault hatchback. A real piece of shit. She's at least 20 years older than me. She mentions she has a daughter my age in the police. Mid coitus she tells me not to pull her hair because it's a wig. She has alopecia. This dear reader did not stop me from carrying on with the act.
I finish.
I stumble out of the car. Trip over my trousers which are by my ankles. My naked arse hits the frosty tarmac with some firmness. Fuck.
I pull my trousers up and start walking. Smoking several cigarettes on the walk back.
I get home. I pass out.
The next morning my hangover is the worst it has ever been. What have I done dear reader? Now I have scraped the bottom of the barrel before, for a while I was popping in to collect my mail, but this, this dear reader could be my lowest point.
I shower washing her smell off me viciously. Then I wallow in self pity. Oh Maggie May!
Maggie May
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- TheDrunkardAnglo
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Maggie May
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.
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Re: Maggie May
You, sir, are a whore. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
ພາສາລາວNONE GENUINE WITHOUT MY SIGNATUREພາສາລາວ
- Artful Drunktective
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Re: Maggie May
You end up in all sorts of shenanigans when you are hanging out with your cousin(s?). Always a great tale to share. Huzzah!
Okole maluna!
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- TheDrunkardAnglo
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Re: Maggie May
In my hangover I told myself "you shameless slut, you cannot go back to that pub you've ruined your reputation!"
Now I think to myself, give it a few months to a year. It happens to be near to this great fried chicken shop. Incredible spicy wings.
Now I think to myself, give it a few months to a year. It happens to be near to this great fried chicken shop. Incredible spicy wings.
Major Strasser: What is your nationality?
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.
Rick: I'm a drunkard.
Captain Renault: That makes Rick a citizen of the world.
- Artful Drunktective
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Re: Maggie May
Well, maybe it's time DA, for you to come to grips that yes indeed, you are a spicy wing eatin' shameless dirty and disgusting slut who banged a random woman who was old enough to be your mom in a dinged up French hatchback. Let's be real.TheDrunkardAnglo wrote: ↑Thu Feb 02, 2023 4:50 amIn my hangover I told myself "you shameless slut, you cannot go back to that pub you've ruined your reputation!"
Now I think to myself, give it a few months to a year. It happens to be near to this great fried chicken shop. Incredible spicy wings.
But...once you embrace this, you should walk around like the rapper Candyman without any shame. You should be right back at that pub, pronto! Proud as a peacock! (But maybe try to video record it this time, teehee!)
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Okole maluna!
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Re: Maggie May
The real question is "any news from the daughter?"TheDrunkardAnglo wrote: ↑Thu Feb 02, 2023 4:50 amIn my hangover I told myself "you shameless slut, you cannot go back to that pub you've ruined your reputation!"
Now I think to myself, give it a few months to a year. It happens to be near to this great fried chicken shop. Incredible spicy wings.
What? I am, after all, evil.
"I never want to go to bed if there are still beers in the fridge, but then I am always hopeful that there are beers left in there when I wake up.". Thirstydrunk.
"We all look for happiness, but without knowing where to find it: like drunkards who look for their house, knowing dimly that they have one." Voltaire
"The prince of darkness is a gentleman." Shakespeare.
"We all look for happiness, but without knowing where to find it: like drunkards who look for their house, knowing dimly that they have one." Voltaire
"The prince of darkness is a gentleman." Shakespeare.
Re: Maggie May
That is a great story, cheers man! Also, I love the "Dear Reader" very nice touch, I am imagining the story narrated by Charlotte Bronte now.
Everything in moderation, including moderation