Got back from London today. Might have a bit of a cold….sleeping on the floor of strange peoples house last night….
So recap…..
Thursday…Laundry eventually dried…I was way early at airport….so I bought a Guardian and tried to nap.
Was to meet Matt at 2ish, but his train was delayed due to a bridge crash or something….We met bout 4, and had to modify plans. No time for sight seeing so we just met some of his friends at one of their old local pubs. The gray goose…I think we talked about midgets and people with no legs…The pool table was miniature, but good people and I had fun.
Also had a british girl with massive braids tell me that I should “platt” my beard…..not knowing what this meant I agreed to let her try it….So I undid my beard and she said “oh it was already platted”….apparently platt means braid….she said she would platt it for me….but did a lousy job…so another british girl said she would give it a shot…..she didn’t do a very good job either, so I had to just platt it myself in the mirror of the pub where everyone could see me…..thanks ladies for the help!!!!
Then we had to go to Surrey/Red Hill (I have no idea where or what that is). Some more of Matt’s friends put us up in the spare rooms of the pub they manage. Gracious enough to make us Spaghetti Bolognese as well. Well done! Good people.
Matt slept in and again we were short on time.
Saw Leicester Square and about 5 pubs. London is so huge. It takes forever to go anywhere, and since we had a different place every night we carried our bags around for 3 straight days…I’m sore now to go along with my cold.
Matt’s tours of London basically follow the philosophy or walk 30 minutes then find a pub.
Pictures will follow in a few days (except we only took like 4 pictures…Ooops)
Friday evening had us walking towards matt’s old office, and we went into another local dive, but this is where it gets fun. Met more of Matt’s people. bought some illegally copied DVD’s from a Chinese man. Apparently this is common to see in London. 3 for 10 gbp. Some movies just came out in the theatre a week ago. Probably movies made by a dude holding a video camera in the theatre.
I’ve not seen this in Frankfurt.
Some random 45 year old woman starts talking to us about DVD’s. Invites herself to sit down and tells the guy she was with that she was staying but he could go.
She says her husband doesn’t let her out very much. We wonder why…..
Our standard question to strangers is to ask who wins a fight between a pirate and a ninja….The fun part is to see their assumptions and what type of questions they will ask (does the pirate have a patch? is he drunk? Does he have two legs? Does the Ninja have stars? etc).
I believe her first comment was something about Why can’t they just talk about it and be friends? That was the first time anyone posed that question….
We said no that’s no possible because the pirate had raped and pillaged the Ninja’s family or something. Then she said…OK…the Pirate….
why?
Incoherent rambling for about 5 minutes, talking about how the Pirates other senses have been heightened because of his patch (brilliant!). He has an amazing sense of hearing and smell which would give him an advantage over the ninja….Something about how the Ninja is really a robot……and one of them needs therapy. If the Ninja really was a robot then the Pirate would have an advantage because of his cunning and emotional intelligence….
Matt: So, how much is therapy in the Matrix?
crazy lady: 8 Rubik’s cubes….(followed by hand motions indicating that she has just solved the rubik’s cube in about 2 seconds. then she holds the rubik’s cube out and says)
“here you go”.
There was also a story about harry hoover which I can’t really remember. I think I was laughing too hard. I’ll have to get it off Matt….
We piss off and try to get crazy english lady to come with us, but alas she has to get back to her husband. I can only hope that she asked the same question to him. Good bye crazy english lady. I only wish we didn’t have another question to ask. Can someone in the family work on a new question?
Go to some other cool pub that plays the silent film version of beauty and the beast ALL THE TIME!!!
Yes I had actually wandered in this pub when I was in London a year ago December (was it really that long ago?). It’s a cool pub. Decorated with gothic ironwork and test tubs…sort of like an ancient science lab gone wrong. Super crowded though.
Some of us then took a cab to some rock club with go-go dancers. that was fun. On the floor dudes dancing to rock music by doing high kicks into the air….as far as I know nobody died, but you had to pay attention in certain places on the floor.
This was followed by interpretive dance from Matt and Vikki.
“I’m a tree”
“Karate Kid”
and other random poses that I probably can’t remember
Hot dog on the street (with onions and mustard).
taking a ride in one of the illegal London Black cabs (unregulated cabs). You negotiate a price before you get in and hope they don’t assault you or take you hostage or something….He tried to rip us off when we got out. He’s not allowed to double the price after we get out. Nice try fella!
Crashed in Vikki’s room. Cheers mate! Come for a visit.
woke up with yellow stuff on my jacket….deduced about 8 hours later that it must’ve been mustard from the hot dog the night before.
Woke up and went to a Z class English Football team. Home team won 3-0 so it was a good game. Was kind of cool to hang out there with the locals who yell at the ref, the teams, and whatever else needs a good yelling at.
After that went to a pub up the hill and watched Ma’am U with yet another tainted contest….How many times will that crap happen….Why is Middlesborough pronounced like I just spelled it, but it’s actually spelled Middlesbrough? Someone tell me what I’m missing.
Queen’s english….
I did notice that in the Queens english things happen “at the weekend” whereas in american it would be “on the weekend”
Met some drunk guy who was overly friendly and decided to join our table. He was proud to show me that he knew the melody to the US national anthem…My favorite part of him was his closing…He whispered to me “we’ll get them bloody muslims”. Actually I’m pretty sure he spit all over the side of my face as he said it. He didn’t really want us to leave, but he quickly made friends at a new table so I’m sure he’s OK now.
After that we went to a party at the top of one of the Tower Bridge Hotels. 12th floor penthouse…Saw Clinton there. Always good to see ya mate. Come back to ffm soon. I noticed that Clinton wasn’t dancing to Cheeky girls OR abba. It was the “gayest londonest” (Vikki’s quote) party I’ve ever been too. I like being introduced like “This is Joe, he’s straight”….cheers mate for not making it awkward.
Incredible view of the Tower bridge and all of London. I never had any real desire to see the tower bridge, but it was pretty impressive. We ended up walking across it on the way to our Saturday night hosts.
I was pretty tired and beat up by this point, so I basically tried to be polite for a little bit, then tried to find a place to sleep. It turned out that the hallway by the door was about all I got. It was bloody cold, and there was a draft coming under the door…..I wonder why I’m sick now.
I think a lot more happened over the weekend, but I’m still trying to figure it out….I’ll have pics and Matt’s take on the weekend soon. To be edited later.
Vikki gave me a paint by numbers set, but the brown color busted and spilled all over the inside of my bag…now I can’t really do it unless I can find brown paint.
So this is Matt’s blog of the weekend…..I better change the font….
I’d edit out the fuck word, but since it’s not a bad word in europe I’ll just leave it in…If any yanks are offended just chalk it up as another example of americans trying to force thier bogus values on the rest of the world….;>)
Thursday. I have so far managed to catch up on my sleep and gotten most things sorted. All in all has been a great relaxing trip and i’m feeling good. My liver though has pre-emptively started hurting as i walk to the train station.
Train is already 10 minutes late, then we stop outside Doncaster for another hour due to a ‘Bridge-Bash’ cause some car has ‘strucked the bridge’ up ahead. I’m so glad the Queen taught these people to speak gooderer than us.
Get to London about an Hour and a half late, so Squires has been wandering around, more than likely looking for chicks. We shelve our plans to go to Greenwich and walk to the Goose for £1 beers with Boychild and the rest of the Einstein Mob. Played Pool with some girls with hoop earings big enough to hold thighs let alone ankles. Won. Duh. Lost to the Swede though. Jammy Swedes. Somehow we make it to a train to Redhill in Surrey to visit Craig and Ana at their Pub. Continue drinking till 3 or something in the morning listening to Johnny Cash and some other good tunes.
Saturday i wake up at about 12ish. Have the feeling Squires has been up for a while. Haven’t shown him anything yet. Say goodbye to the biggest dog i’ve met. This is him in comparison to Rockpig.
Rockpig would have handed him his arse if he tried anything.
We catch a train up to do the Westend. Take in all the usual sights, a Guinness at Waxy’s, a stroll around Lychester Sq, Piccadilly, Trafalgar, pint at the Chandos, then head to meet the Einsteiniens before clubbing. The local has been changed now to the smoky old man pub on the corner. Just as i thought it was going to wind up pretty uneventful we met the woman.
Those of us that know us here in Frankfurt have been asked the immortal question: Who would win in a fight between a Pirate and a Ninja? It’s not so much which one you choose but how you approach the question that affects how we will inevitably judge you. The question was posed to this woman of about mid 30’s to 40 within about 5 minutes of meeting her.
‘The Pirate’.
Fuck it let’s go she’s boring. Ok i’ll give you a chance.
‘You have to explain your reasons why, you can’t just say the pirate.’
She then preceded to astound us with 15 or so arguments that would need weeks of research to repair and several mind-numbing substances. There was the Pirate’s parrot being trained in the way of the ninja. The pirates remaining senses were strengthened by the loss of his one eye… i cant remember the rest but just remember being stunned by the amount of preparation she had gone too. It was like her whole life had been in preparation for this moment.
She continued to woo us with bits of wisdom and anecdotes including telling us she was a little bit ‘nutty’. Modifying one of Lucky’s lines i asked her ‘How much does therapy cost in the matrix?’
‘Seven Rubicks Cubes’ without hesitation. She was good.
I think her best story though, and you may have to check Joe’s blog to see if i have left out bits, began sometime in the 70’s after consuming ‘a lot of drugs’. What a surprise. Apparently she was at a rich friends house where everyone was a bit posh. At some stage she found their vacuum cleaner – the Henry model – and began using it as a microphone to Interview people. She even took notes of some of the interviewees addresses saying she would visit them. At some stage she left the party – Henry in hand – and went home. Still under the influence she decided to follow up one of the Interviews by travelling several hours in a cab. Arriving at some club, she proceeded to interview other clubbers. By morning she had lost her purse her shoes her bag, but had held on to Henry. 70’s drugs must have been good. Walking along the street, a Cabbie stopped and asked her if she wanted a lift. She said yeah alright. He said where too? She said North London and i don’t have any money. His reply: ‘I’ll take you for the Hoover’. After an emotional farewell to Henry and two hours back to london she then proceded to comedown in front of a mesmerising bit of artwork in her parents lounge room before her Dad put her to bed before her mum found her.
To be continued.
Thursday. I have so far managed to catch up on my sleep and gotten most things sorted. All in all has been a great relaxing trip and i’m feeling good. My liver though has pre-emptively started hurting as i walk to the train station.
Train is already 10 minutes late, then we stop outside Doncaster for another hour due to a ‘Bridge-Bash’ cause some car has ‘strucked the bridge’ up ahead. I’m so glad the Queen taught these people to speak gooderer than us.
Get to London about an Hour and a half late, so Squires has been wandering around, more than likely looking for chicks. We shelve our plans to go to Greenwich and walk to the Goose for £1 beers with Boychild and the rest of the Einstein Mob. Played Pool with some girls with hoop earings big enough to hold thighs let alone ankles. Won. Duh. Lost to the Swede though. Jammy Swedes. Somehow we make it to a train to Redhill in Surrey to visit Craig and Ana at their Pub. Continue drinking till 3 or something in the morning listening to Johnny Cash and some other good tunes.
Saturday i wake up at about 12ish. Have the feeling Squires has been up for a while. Haven’t shown him anything yet. Say goodbye to the biggest dog i’ve met. This is him in comparison to Rockpig.
Rockpig would have handed him his arse if he tried anything.
We catch a train up to do the Westend. Take in all the usual sights, a Guinness at Waxy’s, a stroll around Lychester Sq, Piccadilly, Trafalgar, pint at the Chandos, then head to meet the Einsteiniens before clubbing. The local has been changed now to the smoky old man pub on the corner. Just as i thought it was going to wind up pretty uneventful we met the woman.
Those of us that know us here in Frankfurt have been asked the immortal question: Who would win in a fight between a Pirate and a Ninja? It’s not so much which one you choose but how you approach the question that affects how we will inevitably judge you. The question was posed to this woman of about mid 30’s to 40 within about 5 minutes of meeting her.
‘The Pirate’.
Fuck it let’s go she’s boring. Ok i’ll give you a chance.
‘You have to explain your reasons why, you can’t just say the pirate.’
She then preceded to astound us with 15 or so arguments that would need weeks of research to repair and several mind-numbing substances. There was the Pirate’s parrot being trained in the way of the ninja. The pirates remaining senses were strengthened by the loss of his one eye… i cant remember the rest but just remember being stunned by the amount of preparation she had gone too. It was like her whole life had been in preparation for this moment.
She continued to woo us with bits of wisdom and anecdotes including telling us she was a little bit ‘nutty’. Modifying one of Lucky’s lines i asked her ‘How much does therapy cost in the matrix?’
‘Seven Rubicks Cubes’ without hesitation. She was good.
I think her best story though, and you may have to check Joe’s blog to see if i have left out bits, began sometime in the 70’s after consuming ‘a lot of drugs’. What a surprise. Apparently she was at a rich friends house where everyone was a bit posh. At some stage she found their vacuum cleaner – the Henry model – and began using it as a microphone to Interview people. She even took notes of some of the interviewees addresses saying she would visit them. At some stage she left the party – Henry in hand – and went home. Still under the influence she decided to follow up one of the Interviews by travelling several hours in a cab. Arriving at some club, she proceeded to interview other clubbers. By morning she had lost her purse her shoes her bag, but had held on to Henry. 70’s drugs must have been good. Walking along the street, a Cabbie stopped and asked her if she wanted a lift. She said yeah alright. He said where too? She said North London and i don’t have any money. His reply: ‘I’ll take you for the Hoover’. After an emotional farewell to Henry and two hours back to london she then proceded to comedown in front of a mesmerising bit of artwork in her parents lounge room before her Dad put her to bed before her mum found her.
To be continued.
