Handsome Bastard... Stupid hat
With all the fraudsters on the internet and for privacy reasons he's asked me ro refer to him simply as Drew; respecting his wishes I will do this. (Drews doodle of the day, that Drew)
Drew has been my Best Friend Forever since 10.04am September 3rd 2001. Yes, I fucking remembered. It was a typical summer day in the North of England (dark, wet, and misrible) and I was attending my first day of High School. It was 2nd period, and only a few moments into Mrs Davenport's Biology lesson. I was having trouble opening my mathimatical pertractor and ruler case, due to trapping my hand in a car door the previous day outside of Argos (were my mam purchised the maths equipment case). I turned to my right, and said "Excuse me, can you open this please? My thumb hurts"... he looked at me as if to say "you fucking cretin" but obliged. It blossomed into a beautiful friendship.
Me and Drew are more or less the same person, we share the same taste in everything. He's one of the few people I can be 100% myself around without offending/upsetting/scaring. Honestly the only real difference I can think of between us is he always gave a shit... where as I just couldn't care less about most things. This is perfect for me really; He's going to be a big shot dentist one day, earning loads of money... and I'm going to be slugging it out in a low payed job, doing stupid 12 hour shifts all time of the day and night. Why is this perfect? Because I've got a rock solid reason to make him buy the beer! PARRRTAY!
I honestly couldn't decide which would be more embarrassing to use as the 'this is Drew' picture. Though this one demonstrates his developing dad dance, the stupid hat picture makes him look like Olly Murs... which is really fucking embarrassing.
These days Drew attends University very far away, so we usually see each other for roughly 20 hours a year, spread over the few trips home he makes; This time is spent either eating a Chicken Curry/Satay sauce and chips from Danny's Kitchen - The Best Chinese chippy in Warrington, if not the world.
(for those in the know... TWO CHICKEN IS WEADAAAAAAAAY)
...or we get rat arsed drunk off cheap cider on a swing set somewhere (mature I know) every now and again we'll try to do something that won't slowly destroy our bodies. Last year we booked tickets to go see Iron Maiden. I have seen Maiden before, Drew had yet been privy to the ear busting awesomeness of the Irons. We got our boots 'n denim, and Maiden Eddy the 'Ead shirts on, and hoped on the train to Manchester. We arrived a good few hours ealry to get some beers in (even when it's not focused on booze, it involves booze.) excited, we chatted about what songs we hoped to hear, and whether we should have a kebab or a curry afterwards. I got up to get the next round when the bartender asked me how the concert went.
how the concert went...how the concert went...how the concert went...
Now I've screwed up afew times in my life, and have bravely/brashly accepted a scolding. But having to go back to Drew and tell him that the show was last night, and were 18hours too late... was the single most stomach churning thing I've ever faced. The mood was kind of like this...
"Here's to them playing Phantom of the Opera"
"You utter, fucking Cretin"
Alternatively I could of not told him... we could of just turned up and watched whoever was on the next night...
All I can say in my defence is... who the fuck puts on a Heavy Metal concert on a thursday night?
It cost us £40 each, and also the train fare there and back. The entire time I had to deal with remarks such as, "I hope we're not a day late for the train home" and "That was the best show I've never seen."
Since then I've not been allowed to organise anything; So when he rang me and told me he'd booked tickets for us to watch Jim Jefferies I was more excited than than a child told they're going to Alton towers, but without the later depression when they find out they've been tricked into going to the dentist (Drew being a future dentists is probably rofl at that bit). I packed my bags and waited patiently sat on the end of my bed looking at the watch until it was time to go... 3 months passed, September the 1st the weekend of our 11th anniversary! I booked my rail ticket and this is roughly what happened...
I'm up, shit shower shave etc...
I had a stonkingly good unlimited breakfast at the Toby Carvery (for those not in the know, that's £3.99, which is roughly $800 in American money, you can have unlimited trips to a Buffett table full of sausage, bacon, black pudding (that's fried pigs blood cake to you non Northern English), eggs, baked beans, potatoes ham and onion, full hash browns, and HP Brown sauce... I was in hog heaven.
I then messed about in town and booked another tattoo to kill time.
Arrived at the train station and promptly had to use the toilet (too much breakfast you see.)
By the way, Warrington has a 'No intimacy' rule on its platforms, that means no hugging, kissing, or even a saucy wink, regardless if you are in a mature relationship in which one of you is off for a few days.
On my jolly way.
Still stood up, fucking cattle class.
Had to literally run the length of the carriage, with my duffle bag and guitar to beat an old man to a seat... "Cobras show no mercy!"
Stalybridge... I can't think of a phrase that sums up shit hole up better than this town. Here 30 blokes aged 18 to 50+ get on ny carriage, the meanest most haggered hard nut of the group sit right next to me. Skin head, the faded yellow hint of a recent black eye, missing teeth, a fucking swastika tattoo on his knuckles and worst of all... A fucking Leed Rhinos shirt on.
Just my luck.
When Bazza (he looked like a Bazza) asked me where I'm from I immediately replied, "Manchester mate, and I don't like rugby."... This is where I start my drinking...
The only other anecdote from the train trip was when Drew rang me and told me his flat mate would be at York station getting on the same train as me, and that we should meet up. Here's how he describes him to me; bare in mind people near me could hear him (im slightly deaf, and need volume turned up) and bare in mind they all looked like members of Combat 18, and the BNP and also bare in mind since July 7th 2005 train stations are security risks for bombing...
"Right, be on the look out for an Asian lad, with loads of bags running around looking for the train"... Now I'm not racist. But I'm sure Bazza and his mates round me were all thinking the same thing... And there is no way I'm asking anyone if they'd seen him around the station using that description.
Meet Drew and Kru (Asian lad with bags - lovely chap), they pay for the taxi. Score.
Get to flat, go immediately to the local shop and buy more booze and energy drinks.
Me and Drew (half cut) arrive at the theatre, we get more drinks.
Drew apparently can no longer do shots, (as he's a girl.) His house mates tell me his drinking stories, and how he now throws up at the mere thought of a Jagermeister thanks to them... I'm determined to make my mark and show them exactly how fucked up I could get him. I now top up all our drinks with the cheapest nastiest high percentage spirit I could find... I don't tell him I'm doing this. The fun begins.
The show started, neither of us remember anything what so ever of the show other than "it was the funniest thing we'd ever seen" I remember Drew standing up and shouting "WAHAY, 1ST MADDIE JOKE OF THE NIGHT" and "UP GUNTER UP" this was also horrendously funny at the time.
I acquired a purple beanie baby bear called Gemma, she joins the fun.
We get photos taken with Jim... He has a huge head. A head swollen with funny jokes.
We go in a bar, someone ordered and paid for a round of drinks, then foolishly blinked. Me and Drew now have 4 pints... When I'm drunk apparently I'm a light fingered little bastard.
We get lied to by a guy who said he got a broken neck boxing a kangaroo, we see through the deciet after thinking hard on the matter for half an hour.
Fuck knows really. We had to piece it together the next day. I do remember Drew blatantly taking the piss doing a Stereotypical piss-take of a Geordie accent (Newcastle accent) whilst arguing with a drunk woman and her mate who walked over sat down and called him a 'cunt' for no reason! It got very funny when we told her he was gonna be a dentist and he realised she had no bottom teeth.She also realised this and spent the rest of the argument with her bottom lip firmly tucked up over her gums.
If he'd of done this to two Newcastle blokes, this video will probably of ended up on crime watch "last words of a drunk before he was dragged down an alley for a beating"
I also remember a group of drunk Newcastle lads scored me a Pizza simply because they went to Creamfields festival in Warrington the week before... some this made me worthy of a 14 inch stuffed crust meatfeast.
And we somehow made it home with out getting decked for doing very loud obnoxious WHYAYE MAN, ALRYT PET, and DAAAY FIYUV IN DA BIG BWUDA HUSE comments all the way down the highstreet.
Damage assessment: Liver fucked, easily 12 pints of ale and cider and a dozen shots a piece, weighted down with an extremely greasy pizza.
The next morning I was fine, as I do the old native American trick of drinking a pint of water before sleep... And praying to the moon that my anscestors will flip me on my side during the night. Drew however didn't emerge until the crack of noon.
Kru (lovely chap and not a terrorist at all) asked Drew how the night went, the reply was something along the lines of "Uuuurh, I don't remember, move" he then ran to, and hugged the toilet bowl for an hour.
The rest of the weekend involved KFC for breakfast, a walk all over Newcastle, in 26degree heat... Bare in mind we a white northerners, and dehydrated already... This was hard fecking going. More drinking, carrying 200kgs worth of weights up to the top floor of a 4story building, and discovering the bloody tastiest spicy buffalo wings ever! (good call Kru).
All in all, good weekend, my liver wasn't impressed but I look forward to another.