Honk If Your Horney

It was a Sunday morning back in April this year and I was driving along Maryhill Road on my way home. My journey had already been screwed up on the way out because of some bleedin' charity run where they have thousands of people running/jogging/strolling on the road where the cars are driving, rather than the pavement supplied. I'd already been on a big detour through Possil.

It had quietened down by midday but there were still a few stragglers around and people resting beside the road...on the pavement. Some were walking home or back to their cars.

I saw some teenage girls at a bus stop in running gear of sorts, t-shirts, shorts etc. I had a look as one might but it wasn't their thighs that caught my attention. No, it was the sign that one of them was holding up.

It was a painted t-shirt with the slogan hand-painted onto it...

"Honk if your horney"

I couldn't honk. I was too busy pissing myself laughing, crying to myself. "Fuckin hell, spelling and punctuation. Dumb bitches"


Disclaimer:- any punctuation or grammatical errors within any of my posts will be found by me ..... at some point in time. Sometimes the spellcheck doesn't work, or I'm a bit pissed.

A 21st Party. What To Take? Bottle? Food? Gun?

I heard a disturbing story a few weeks ago from a guy I work with.

One of his pals went to a 21st party in a house on the southside of Glasgow. It was a joint 21st for two friends.

One of the families was there, over from Africa, and what a contrast. He said the house was packed full of wee Glasgwegian neds, and huge black guys.

The night was going well with plenty of bevvy consumed as you'd expect, people dancing and everyone on a high, until one of the little neds decided to move things on a level and glassed one of the black guys in the face. Reason? Unknown.

Chaos breaks out. Girls screaming. People banging into each other to get away.

One of the black guy's friends steps up beside him. He was well over 6 feet tall, built like a brick shithouse, and he squares up to the ned who was still acting the hardman with all his mates, strutting around on his toes like a boxer waiting for someone to try something with him.

The black guy stripped off his shirt and his muscles were practically glistening under the lights. at the sight of this the ned immediately backed up, but was still shouting abuse, his hands stretched out behind him, either to check if was up against the wall or if any of his mates were still there.

Seconds later, the black guy reached behind him and pulled a gun from the waistband of his trousers and started waving it about.

This guy said he was standing at the edge of the room when this was happening and he had never seen a room empty so quickly. And so quietly. He ran with everyone out to the street and he even saw the ned at the front of the surge of people. Wee shitebag.

You Will Respect My Authority

I knew a guy a few years ago who worked as a security man in Safeway in Partick, and he told me he had to stand in the alcohol section for his whole shift, and he was kept very busy. He had no mercy when he caught someone running for the front door from the aisle with their hands full. He wasn't very gentle with them. I believe there was an emergency exit at the front of the shop at the far side from the main entrance and I think they used to try and bolt through that, and it was conveniently situated right beside the booze. Once when I was in the shop I met him at his work, and I wondered why he was standing in the same aisle when I was leaving. "Booze. That's all the cunts round here go for".

I was walking around Morrisons in Anniesland earlier tonight and the security guard was marching up and down. A thin boy with a goatee beard and an oversized hat.

He was walking up and down with purpose and my first thought was 'oooh, blog', so I followed him. He soon found some other supermarket workers and voiced some concerns...

"Christ, why do people just walk around the shop lookin' pure dodgy?". To piss you off?

Repeat after me... "Next time, I will try to look dodgy in the supermarket..."

"....to give someone something to do". After all, they have mortgages to pay....or payments on their '08 cars.

It Should Only Happen To A Cleaner

A few months ago we moved to a new office and therefore the office cleaners changed. Before they used to come round after 5pm and do their stuff, but now they there just after 9am, cleaning, dusting, hoovering and cleaning the toilets.

Just like the old office the cleaner has been seen using the same cloth to dust the tops of cabinets that she'll use to then clean your phone and your keyboard. Doesn't bear thinking about.

Another thing is the bins. They collect the bins about 9.30am each day and take away the paper for recycling and the food waste, which I'm sure all goes to the same place eventually. So if you eat a banana at 10am, it'll be stinking by the next morning, and if you eat one on a Friday morning, the bin sits and stews over the weekend to provide a ripe aroma for Monday.

A favourite of mine is when the cleaners do the toilets. The old office had a wee old man who was a bit manky looking and all the women thought he was disgusting. And rightly so. He smelled, he looked dirty, he was unshaven, he had little or no teeth and those he did have weren't any kind of shade of white that I knew. No woman would go near the toilets if he was in as they hated the thought of him walking in.

This is double standards surely. I was in the toilet once standing at the urinal and a female cleaner walked in and I expected her to walk out but she started mopping the floor along at the cubicles and then the floor behind me...while I was still pissing. She was no pretty thing either. That might have made it bearable. Zipped up. Washed hands. She was still there.

It even happened to me in a nightclub once. I walked in and there were three girls talking to a drunk guy leaning up against the wall. Nothing could have stopped me taking a piss by that point anyway.

A few months ago, the new young female cleaner who I believe was Polish was working on our floor. I had been in the toilets and heard one of my unidentified colleagues groaning, straining, splashing and causing the most almighty fucking smell. Christ it was rotten.

I was finished before him and was leaving the toilets, just as the female cleaner was walking in. I excused myself and walked past her and almost ran back to my desk to take a seat for the show.

It took about seven seconds until the toilet door was yanked open and the young blonde walked out with her hand over her mouth.

Aaaahh. What satisfaction. That'll teach her. She should have knocked first.

At least he was wasn't having a wank.

Sign A Petition And Do Some Good

Two of my pals were at a bus stop outside The Bombay Palace in Glasgow on a Monday night a few weeks ago.

A young woman staggered up to them and stood in front of them, swaying slightly. Either under the the influence of drink or drugs.

In the typical nasal voice of the Glaswegian scum, she asked if they could maybe help her. They thought she was going to ask for money or cigarettes,

"Can yous maybe sign a petition to help me get my wean* back?"

She was swaying about, her skin was in a shite condition and they said she looked a perfect example of a smackhead. One of the guys just ignored her and started to walk away and she began to crowd the other guy, really getting in his face, saying that she really needed to get her kid back. He tried to back off and get away from her but she kept coming at him.

He didn't want to tell her to fuck off as he didn't want stabbed so he just kept telling her 'No' until she left him alone.

Have you ever heard anything like that?


* "wean" is a Scottish word for child, see...
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=wean

If Noah Had Been This Pissed...

Yesterday we took the kids out for a little treat and went to an indoor softplay area for kids. It's big inside and has a cafe area for the adults to sit and watch other kids be nasty to their own from a distance. My children have come back over to me sometimes saying that some other child has stuck the finger up at them or even told them to fuck off. Nice.

We sat down. And I watched.

The place is called Cheeky Charlies and I can recommend it. It's a decent price for entry and the food supplied is decent and not expensive, I sent my boy up with a £5 note for a bottle of water, and I followed him, mainly to make sure he got the right change, which was just as well, as after he got what he asked for and handed over the £5 note......he walked away. I said.."Whoa, whoa, whoa, money son, money son, your money, your money....my money".

My heart fell when I saw he'd bought two bottles of Volvic. Crap!, I thought that's going to skin me about three quid.

She said, "That's three eighty change". What, are you crazy?? You're not ripping me off?? I cheked my change to make sure she hadn't charged me three eighty. But sixty pence for each bottle, and it was chilled as well. What more can you do?

Time passed and I watched my fellow parents doing what they do. Some were talking at their husbands while they read the paper, some women chatted with their friends while supping the coffee.

After a little while, the inevitable happened, some kid started screaming. Excellent!

It became clear quickly that it was the little overweight four year old girl in pink. Among the wails I could hear her screaming some words, and to this moment I cannot say definitely what it was and you will understand why, but after several times hearing it, it sounded like she was saying...

"Granny Noah, Granny Noah. Wher ur ye?"

After a short period the kid started wandering around. It was blatantly clear very quickly that there was no adult there that could claim association. It took about two minutes, while the screaming increased until a woman came in from outside, with a fag between her lips. She retreated for a moment to chuck the cigarette out the door.

As she came back in I was watching her. It was obvious straight away that she either drunk or on something else. She was swaying around as she made her way back into the children's area and her speech was slurred.

Another woman appeared from outside as well, and seemed to be this woman's friend, but she was quite sober. 'Granny Noah' came in and sat down with the other woman and the two children with them joined them at the table for some chips and juice. A good healthy combo. The other child was only about two years old. Granny Noah was gripping the arms of the chair like she was about to fall off but after only a minute or so she disappeared outside again. The sober woman took charge in feeding them. Nothing much happened and I began to wonder if had imagined her being drunk.

Outside as I crossed the carpark back towards the place, having been into the supermarket, I crossed paths with Granny Noah. She had the youngest kid in a pushchair, and as we came to pass each other, she stepped back and said for me to pass.

Nay, I lie. She stumbled back two steps and slurred at me "Oan ye go pal, nae bor, oan yees go" nodding loosely to confirm I could pass. I was right after all. She was steaming. I said out loud as I walked past "Fuck me.... fuck me". I almost willed her to hear me and ask what my problem was.

I wondered as I walked away. 'Granny Noah'. Where was the kid's mother? Did the mother know the kids were out with their drunk granny? And how ironic, Noah looking after two.

But if the first Noah had been this pissed, we'd all have been screwed.