Taxi for one!

After work on Tuesday, Logan Josh, The Evil Dr Clay and I called into the pub on the way home from work for ONE pint. I emerged five and half hours later, full of drink, shots, Mexican chili flavour crisps, Onion rings and chips. I'm not supposed to say this but Logan had told his wife he would only be having one pint and would be home. As it was, he was still waiting for a taxi at half ten when I left, broke and drunk. In fact the only reason I didn't stay longer was that I'd run out of money and the place wouldn't take debit cards as payment, except for food. I offered to exchange my work boots for some drink but it was to no avail. It seems bartering with clothing only works in third world countries.

Are you my taxi?

During our time there we encountered the pub's quiz, now, I love pub quizzes but this one was way beyond the pale. It was the perfect quiz for people who only spend their spare time watching soap operas or football and use the rest of the time appearing on Jeremy Kyle or sucking their own feet. Some of the questions were: Name a footballer who's surname only has three letters? Which character in Coronation Street just underwent a back street abortion? Name one of the judges on Britain's Got Talent. I shit you not, ask any of the punters about TV or Sport and bam, they've got the answers, ask them who the second man on the Moon was and they'd probably answer 'That right clever bloke in a wheelchair that talks like a robot.' Despite the shushing from the flummoxed punters, Logan Josh and I continued our high brow conversation about aeroplanes at a rather high volume. Fuck em.

Name them

Speaking of aeroplanes, a Spitfire, Hurricane and three Mustangs flew in formation over site today. It was the best thing that happened all day and it lifted me, momentarily, out of my moaning student induced funk.

Cadillacs of the sky!

I was just talking to Alex and Johnny the Ukrainian Butchers. Alex said they needed to find work on Saturday and Sunday, I said they'd be too tired from working all the time, he said if we have a holiday we'll drink Vodka. I said, if they drink Vodka, then I'll end up drinking Vodka and bang goes my weekend, so Alex said it was in my interest to find them jobs on Saturday and Sunday. Oh! How we laughed.

Pot Noodle Protests

Helena and Joel came up to York last weekend, I met up with them both along with Bert, Claire and some guy called Jim. Hel and Joel had gotten engaged on Saturday night, so congratulations were in order. I met them about five and we were drinking all night, slightly interrupted by a trip to an Italian restaurant. Finally Hel, Joel, Jim and I made it to the Ackhorne, by far my favourite pub in York. As a happy coincidence there was the famous Sunday night quiz on. I had completely forgotten about it and was whooping with joy when I realised! We were all pretty much worse for wear by this time and this only added to the hilarity of the quiz. The woman doing the questions was sat out on the patio and was miked up so all of us inside could hear. As she started the questions there was a constant buzzing from the microphone, it was like under going torture whilst sitting an exam. As the evening progressed, the mike got worse and worse until it was flicking on and off. It was like the quiz was hosted by a stuttering quiz master. There were questions like this; 'What did Wa______ ____vive in 19__ with only h_ ____?' and 'th_ __ kn__ as ___ in Canada?' We were all literally pissing ourselves, but then it got better; She asked a question about John Lennon and Yoko ONE. I couldn't believe my ears. We were crying laughing by this time. When she came round after and asked if anyone wanted questions repeating I asked her for the John Lennon question and she repeated Yoko ONE. The table next to us asked her the same thing and got the same reply, they too were on the floor with laughter. This was the best quiz I have been to for a long time, even since the times when we would go to the Ackhorne quiz and the landlord, Jack, would give us answers and we'd still lose.

Yoko One and Yoko Two?

I crashed out in a drunken state and was awoken by John at 2.00am unable to get into the house as he'd left his keys on his desk in Bromsgrove. That boy is a danger to himself. The next morning was the start of the new job, it took us quite some time to negotiate the York morning traffic, but we duly arrived to be confronted by the sight of nearly one hundred students. It was a pretty frightening prospect I can tell you. It was like being confronted by Zulu warriors at Rourke's Drift. As it goes it is the dossiest £14 per hour I have ever worked for. We don't start until 9.30, finish at 4.30, have three breaks and all I have to do is tell the students which end of a trowel to use. Today it lashed it down so we finished early and I also found out that we don't work on Wednesdays. If only it lasted longer than three weeks...

Students Sir, thousands of them...

After returning from work we saw that John's car had been broken into with nothing stolen. The fact it wasn't even stolen and burnt out after stint of joyriding was further insult to the injury. I think the crime may have been tied in with the fact that John had ripped up and stuck up a BNP poster that had come through the post. The indication being that we didn't vote BNP at this house. The problem was, from a distance, i.e. driving past the house, it looked like a normal BNP poster the indication being that we DID vote BNP at this house. John's stance against racists just ended up making us look like racists. This is what I have to deal with on a daily basis. The fucking idiot.