NO ONE IS ILLEGAL.
thats a "new" sign at le bateau, replacing a moany one behind the dj's booth about wearing scarves indoors. it might not be all that new since i'd not been there since november. i thought it was beautiful.
of course like any civilised human being the vilification of immigrants saddens me, but i've never seen opposition to this distilled into such a simple form.
and they plan to have a special party the first saturday after thatcher dies too i'm told. i'm all for that.
had my 4th hectic weekend on the run, which is more than welcome relief after a tedious january (are januarys ever anything else? not for me) went out with old mate who got in touch with me the other week on friday night (i'd totally forgotten it was paddys day... wouldnt have bothered if i had) went round some really horrible scally pubs on matthew street cos another old mate was dead drunk there, fortunately he ran away - literally- at about half eleven so we headed up to korova till it shut then magnet after 3 till i cant remember when talking shit with other equally drunk people and singing and dancing along to the old oasis album they'd popped on (i think i got home at six you know, dont quote me and all that.)
in the cab home, the driver said to me:
"i'm psychic"
"oh yeah?" i reply bored as fuck of cocky cabbies
"yeah i know your dads name"
"and your sister, she's quite musical isn't she"
this carried on for a while, i was very drunk and extremely freaked out...
after we dropped my mate off he gave me his taxi licence and said "this'll explain it"
his name was Yates, and the penny dropped, it was a cousin i'd not seen in many many years.
i was rather relieved, and got a free cab ride out of it, quality.
spent saturday in bed wrecked (on top of the beer i'd also had a kebab filled with cold meat.)
but scraped myself out in the evening to meet some mates in town for a few pints before le bateau, which was class, full of people i know, lots of dancing to the indie and the sixties, talking shit with strangers (i asked someone with a straight face "who's this?" when the arctic monkeys came on and they took me seriously) and on my way out a friend told me where i could see the finnish artist i mentioned the other weeks art displayed on slater street.
its on a massive billboard! walking from bold street to duke street along slater street its on the left towards the duke street end. its a pic of lots of people in high visibility jackets with the quite strange slogan "first clean capital culture!"
of course like any civilised human being the vilification of immigrants saddens me, but i've never seen opposition to this distilled into such a simple form.
and they plan to have a special party the first saturday after thatcher dies too i'm told. i'm all for that.
had my 4th hectic weekend on the run, which is more than welcome relief after a tedious january (are januarys ever anything else? not for me) went out with old mate who got in touch with me the other week on friday night (i'd totally forgotten it was paddys day... wouldnt have bothered if i had) went round some really horrible scally pubs on matthew street cos another old mate was dead drunk there, fortunately he ran away - literally- at about half eleven so we headed up to korova till it shut then magnet after 3 till i cant remember when talking shit with other equally drunk people and singing and dancing along to the old oasis album they'd popped on (i think i got home at six you know, dont quote me and all that.)
in the cab home, the driver said to me:
"i'm psychic"
"oh yeah?" i reply bored as fuck of cocky cabbies
"yeah i know your dads name"
"and your sister, she's quite musical isn't she"
this carried on for a while, i was very drunk and extremely freaked out...
after we dropped my mate off he gave me his taxi licence and said "this'll explain it"
his name was Yates, and the penny dropped, it was a cousin i'd not seen in many many years.
i was rather relieved, and got a free cab ride out of it, quality.
spent saturday in bed wrecked (on top of the beer i'd also had a kebab filled with cold meat.)
but scraped myself out in the evening to meet some mates in town for a few pints before le bateau, which was class, full of people i know, lots of dancing to the indie and the sixties, talking shit with strangers (i asked someone with a straight face "who's this?" when the arctic monkeys came on and they took me seriously) and on my way out a friend told me where i could see the finnish artist i mentioned the other weeks art displayed on slater street.
its on a massive billboard! walking from bold street to duke street along slater street its on the left towards the duke street end. its a pic of lots of people in high visibility jackets with the quite strange slogan "first clean capital culture!"