FlyTheNest

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.

And if anyone else wants to post pictures of themselves drunkenly rambling their way through other parts of the country that would be great.

Now that it's starting to get a bit cold I don't think I can be arsed anymore.

[youtube]8jcI82WVUVk[/youtube]

" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

This is more or less the earlier part of my youth

" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

This was the later part - before moving to "the wrong side" of the Pennines

Recent walking in that there Europe.

Excuse spelling - that should be Lonen aan de Vecht

Windmills at dusk.

Isn't that beautiful?

Any more Tiny?

I've got nothing today after doing my back in.

I went to the Hacienda once in 1992.

They like to pretend that the gangs with guns turned up much later but I saw a chav dealing ecstasy and waving around a pistol that night in the toilets which shocked the shit out of me.

The indie nights in the North East and Scotland I was used to had nothing like that nonsense going on. Well until a drug dealing gang burned down the Blue Monkey in Sunderland a couple of years later.

It's kind of sad now passing the Hacienda on the train and seeing it in its new incarnation as an exclusive apartment block.

Like having a sneering Thatcherite punch in the face every time you get into Manchester.

A bit earlier in the same day

Left Manchester just before the Hacienda. More the Factory at the Russel Club (the alternative venues of choice including the Cyprus Tavern). Then to Leeds and the Warehouse. Including a "phenomenal" performance by Sylvester.

At some point people switched from drinking pints to drinking water and then suddenly I was "old".

When was that Tiny? I moved to Leeds in 2002 and spent many happy a drunken night in the Warehouse.

Friends of mine rented it out a couple of times for a wee goth festival they run and it was great.

Though if you went to the Factory at the Russel Club you're evidently older than I am and worthy of considerable respect.

Not so much "older" as "born earlier by mistake". My Warehouse days coincided with the zenith of Sweaty Betty's and the Eldon not being a poncy knocked-through shitehole. Arrived just after Peter Sutcliffe was arrested and left in 1989.

Actually I was born 'later by mistake', much of the music I liked happened a good ten years before I was born, so annoyingly it still kept being played in clubs but the bands themselves were long gone.

Which was slightly annoying.

[youtube]y4SL60dGNos[/youtube]

Am I helping you with this shit?

What's the point?

I used to think there was one.

What a fool.

You fucking idiot.

I'm sorry.

I'm drunk and massively stoned.

The problem comes with people who register but don't contribute.

Those who spout online but never get up.

Fucking Hipsters.

They are to blame.

Despite them bringing investment to our town.

And offering jobs.

We hate them.

[youtube]S932yfhvToc[/youtube]

Why do we bother?

Because I meet Hindle.

And others like us.

Reality is a curious place.

And I'm sorry.

why

I wish you all well.

I was watching Trump sexually assaulting a chair and stayed up specifically to watch.Plenty of joy in tbe World,better than the alternative.

Sorry about that, bloody Polish lager. I keep thinking I can handle it but it creeps up on you.

I had the pleasure tonight of watching the last bus just sail past despite me standing in front of the bus stop flailing my arm about.

And this wasn't just a few stops, I was in a different fucking city.

So I had to go to a pub and have a pint just to use their Wi-Fi to work out how the fuck to get home.

Then after a massive walk to the railway station none of the machines would accept my card to buy a ticket.

Thankfully a kindly member of staff then got me on to a train.

Upon returning to Leeds I was dismayed to find it had been reduced to clouds of ash and black slag by a Russian nuclear strike.

Which was kind of annoying because it meant I couldn't get a taxi.

Anyway again, as I say sorry about going mental, you can get that polish lager for a quid a can but it's like 9%. Like Special Brew but it doesn't taste like shit or make you want to become a tramp. I seem to remember a long time ago in a forum far away I once tried to review such beers but it ended up in similar nonsense.

Clearly I never learn.

Are we cool?

This is nice, and Welsh.

[youtube]7W3MPqA1SMg[/youtube]

I like the Welsh.

They tend to have a healthy disregard for the English.

I find places more interesting overnight,though I cannot fully recommend Seaton Carew as a place of wonder,though the beach was pleasant enough to sit on,in the early days of courting we fell out over nothing and taking the go away literally I did,unfortunately having no.money or mode of transport it was walking around the Hartlepool area.

I missed the obvious danger of back injury caused by cutting garlic from the other thread,or more precisely picking a piece up.from the floor-you would think they would have some kind of health warning.

Are you sure it was a bus,given it sailed past you?


Sorry.

[youtube]9jg4ekLG9Zo[/youtube]

One of my weird dreams again a urinal full of sand,monsters made of garlic and bottles of lager lurking behind corners.For some reason I had to use a ticket machine to use a lift to the fourth floor in an educational establishment,not sure what I was studying but it appeared to be something to do wirh electronics.
Reading this forum has dangers and warps your mind

One of the first albums I bought,not revealing the actual first one.

Much is being made of the new fiver doubling up as a stylus needle.

When I say fiver,I mean £4.56 and dropping.

Hindle, I'm tired. See you later.

O.K.Thanks for response.Sweet dreams.

@Sky'sGoneOut
@HindleA
@tinyclanger2

Thank you for this thread. I've tried writing words conveying gratitude finding your stories and music here. I hope it's enough. What I've written. I hope it's enough.

love,
cJA

I meant to answer the thing about e-cigs the other day and completely forgot, sorry. It may well have been a psychosomatic thing or it may just have been the end of a long day.

Today I have been on an exam board course -the kind when they tell you all of the answers - (actually there is something in this - this one was at a more preliminary stage for a new course but generally they explain to you how assessment will work and what they are looking for, so they kind of do tell you the answers, they just don't tell you the questions. I digress) which was very good and useful but also was only an afternoon course, so I got brownie points by coming into school for registration and then went straight to Birmingham for a general wander and a plate of roast pork and duck in Chinatown, which I thoroughly recommend. But now I've been back at school for a parents evening and am reaching the end of my attention.

Sorry it's a bit blurry, my mate was having his arse sniffed by a scary dog.

I don't know what it is about fallen trees in water I find appealing.

This one has fallen into the lake in Roundhay Park in Leeds.

Quite a peculiar perversion I'm sure you'll agree.

I decided to stay in Leeds today and have my friend come to me, no getting on buses, no getting on other buses home. Just chilling out then wandering to the park up the road for a stroll.

Roundhay park is massive, I don't know how many miles square it is but it takes you a good couple of hours to walk from one end to the other.

And yet we could never get away from fucking joggers.

The thing is when walkers pass you they say hello and generally smile. Whereas joggers just run through the puddle in front of you splashing you with mud.

Something needs to be done about them.

Sky'sGoneOut wrote:I decided to stay in Leeds today and have my friend come to me, no getting on buses, no getting on other buses home. Just chilling out then wandering to the park up the road for a stroll.

Roundhay park is massive, I don't know how many miles square it is but it takes you a good couple of hours to walk from one end to the other.

And yet we could never get away from fucking joggers.

The thing is when walkers pass you they say hello and generally smile. Whereas joggers just run through the puddle in front of you splashing you with mud.

Something needs to be done about them.

It's because they're either totally up themselves, high on it all and very virtuous, or completely miserable and hating every step. I have been both although usually the latter. (edit their/they're. The shame).

I was once a runner myself many years ago.

It never gets pleasant. All there is is the myth of the runners high and that's bollocks.

It's a mild trance brought on by repetitive breathing that just masks the misery temporarily.

Running is horrible.

CitizenJA.

You're welcome in this fucked up club.

You'll have to ask Hindle but he's cool.

[youtube]7W3MPqA1SMg[/youtube]

Do an organised event,soak up the applause for being crap,take over the streets,listen to the bands en route,high five the children ,smile at the ra ra girls,pour water over your head,do the oggy oggy oggy chant,feign injury for massage,king for a day.

My brief jogging experience in parks when I thought it best to do something having entered my first marathon and the consensus was I would die en route was being chastened by another for smoking whilst doing it,apparently I was setting a bad example,I thought it showed that it was perfectly possible to combine the two.I agree a lot of runners take it far too seriously,something which ,beyond finishing,nobody could accuse me of

I have run for up to five minutes at a time without vomiting. Not to show off, but one has to take credit where it's due.

I had a couple of mates who did the gardening at Roundhay Park. Not all of it mind.

Though it depends what you mean "run",nowadays my efforts could hardly be called that.My gauge has always been if at all uncomfortable I am going too fast,not the attitude of an athlete but it has served me well in completion and safety.