The Boozehound

[ Sunday, March 31, 2002 ]

Gothic Ale.

This particular brew has been of great concern to me and my fellow drinkfeinds over the last few weeks. We have taken to doin a bit of a pub crawl every saturday night round the town where our college is located, Stourbridge. We always end up in the Hogshead for a few pints of the Gothic Ale. I noticed it last week but this stuff makes me over confident, violent even. Yet like a right fuckin n00b3r I still drink it cause it is a very nice drink.

We started the night at The Bell. They had been renovating the bar, that part had been closed for a while. So we had a look in there. There was little difference, as far as I could tell the wooden floor had been polished and the seats had been recovered. The night was started in there. It is a good place to start a pub crawl, the vibrations are usually relaxed, never any ultra-violence to speak of. There was a group of old chaps in the corner moaning on and the landlord shouted at em a bit. Then he moaned at us about them

"See them old bastards over there"

They made him climb up some ladders to stick a clock on the wall and he wasnt very happy about having to do it.

Then it was The Mitre. This is a ye olde time pub, but they do a nice drink.

Then came the Hogshead. This Gothic Ale is a trickey bastard to understand, especially the effect it has on me. After a few of these I develop a temporary yet severe case of Tourettes. We were sitting outside as it was too busy to go inside. There was some chap screaming and shouting at those filth merchants in Mc Dondalds.

"Youve got ten fucking minutes!"
"Ugly, ugly, ugly motherfucker"

I have no idea why he was doin this but the manager found it cautiously funny, we were watching from our position. When the Yahoo started to get a little bit more forward he stepped in. The Yahoo just left then. He walked past us revaling in his madness. Everyone else on the tables thought he was a crazy dickhead. I on the other hand have a soft spot for people who abuse McDonalds in such a way.

"Nice one"

The Gothic was of course working on me by this point. The night went pretty well, it was calm. I was agitated I could feel the need for a violent freak out building up within me, I managed to control it. I did however making a real tit of myself later on in the evening. The toilets in this place are up some stairs with two hand rails on either side. As I was coming down I decided it would be hilarious to grab both of them and slide down. So I came zooming down and went smack straight into a particular nice female. Thankfully she saw the funny side to the event, although I felt like a royal fool. Justly as well.

Deano the Bouncer turned up. He made me give his freind some sponsership cash. By that I mean he asked me to, but you dont say no to whatever he tells you to do. When he is unhappy the Peacemaker comes into play. Im sure there is a law against that damned thing but who am I to question.

The drive home was a pretty crazy affair. Ears was in the GT spirit and drove like crazy. We got to my house and Fuckup ran off into some trees. So we drove off again and cranked the tunes up ultra-loud. In the end Ears drove me home and then he went to get Fuckup, we had seen him wondering the streets.
Blaggard [9:21 AM]

[ Saturday, March 30, 2002 ]

AshleyA wrote:


Blaggard wrote:

I hope none of u replied to this chain letter.

Now, time for some whiskey.

I hate getting chain letters. They suck more cock than hooker. The only reasonable response I now decided to take is to abuse anyone who sends one to me, as well as everyone else they sent it to. Being a cunt is great.
Blaggard [9:35 AM]

[ Friday, March 29, 2002 ]

Ive been hearing strange news out of America this morning. Strange commericails paid for by the goverment stating cannabis smokers are no better than terrorists and the like. This business is getting serious, I predicted this would happen as soon as they started babbling on about terrorists. Anyone they didnt like would be classed as a terrorist, what better reason do they need to lock them up. Im being heavily reminded of a Rage Against the Machine song this morning:

"Land of the free, whoever tells you that is your enemy"

Its a good time to be out of America. Its getting Big Brother serious over there, especially in the football stadiums with face regogniction. That damned carnivore software. Yes, that country is getting Fearful.

Remember kids, dope smokers support terrorism. It is your duty as a patriot to give them a savage beating.
Blaggard [8:56 AM]

[ Tuesday, March 26, 2002 ]

Big Fucking Cunts

Ah those words take me back. Take me back to that morally defunct slime pit they call Playa Das Americas. Ah those were great days, sitting around drinking beer and getting beaten by the pigs. Happy days. I tell you I would like to be back on that island right now instead of locked into this coursework. Deadlines are looming up everywhere and I need to do a good job of this stuff.

There is not even the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel on Friday as it is unlikely I will be able to go on a drink binge. All part of a greater plan though, there will be the college party next Wednesday.Yes, a time to get King Hell Drunk. If the weather carries on as good as it is now it might also be time to get the ole BBQ out. The foul winter months are coming to an end and once this swine of a month is dealt with it is all up hill in the outdoor arena.

Till of course those summer exams. Curses. But at least then there is Tenerife afterwards.
Blaggard [4:29 PM]

[ Sunday, March 24, 2002 ]

Ah the Stourbridge crawl was done again last night.

Some chap got carted away in an ambulance for a stomach pumping and I got very twisted on Gothic ale. Yes everything was right in the world. Then to add to the fun I started abusing the locals. We were sitting outside of the Hogshead there were loads of kids running about so I started callin them all "fucking cunts". It amused me at the time I also called some chap reving his shitty Nova like it was a good car a twat. Everyone just looked at me when I said that.

Nevermind eh? I also told some 13 year old girl not to worry as one day she would have some ID.

"Oh, your so funny"

It wasnt meant to be, I was been honest. Burning the locals is never a good plan and definatly not something to be proud of, but I thought it was pretty funny on this occasion. My abusing was nothing compared to the chap on the table next to us. He was the King of Abuse. This guy was hilarious, he grabbed two girls and started making various suggestive comments until they walked away and then he started asking if they were gonna have sex or not. Eventually he ran off and all his freinds went home. Ah well.

It was a good night.
Blaggard [10:33 AM]

[ Saturday, March 23, 2002 ]

It finally happened. The ultra violence broke out down Porters.

The night was going good, we had a few drinks in Spoons and I was quite willing to spend the rest of the night there sipping on pints of Fosters and talking with my comrades. It wasnt to be though. Ears and a few others wanted to go elsewhere, understandable I suppose as Spoons can get a bit boring if you are not drinking like a swine.

In the end it was decided that we would return to that filthpit Porters Ale House. Anyone who has my Boozeh0und chronicles on other websites as well as this one will know of my inate Fear of Porters. I used to like it. Certain events turned me into a rabid oppenent of it.We went there, I got a beer and sat down. I started to relax into the place the music was grinding my nerves but it wasnt to bad.

Then the heavy lashings of ultra-violence broke out. Two hoods jumped a guy at the bar and smashed a glass bottle against his head. The glass went flying hitting Mo in the face. The two hoods got they guy to the floor and punched him around a bit then they bolted. The chap stood up and leaned against the bar bleeding from the face, we are talking some heavy bloodage. He was suffering from shock, he didnt know what to do, the jump had been sudden and unexpected. One of the pub owners/wokrers grabbed him and slung him out of the door.

"If you come back in this pub again I will fucking kill you"

The grim thing is I beileved him when he said this. This was a man with conviction in his voice, he definatly wasnt fucking around. It angered my greatly that they threw this chap out, he was clearly in need of first aid. Just a fucking bandage and some antiseptic shit would of sorted him till he could get some proper attention. The two hoods were out there pretty quick. The pigs turned up about 15 minutes later but they did nothing. Hehe, the chap was in body armour when he came through the door.
I turned to whoever was next to me when it happened and just said


Before returning to my beer. At the time I was too drunk to really disect the event but now in the light of soberness Ive had chance to think about it. At the time it looked like the chap had done nothing and I dont think he did while in the pub. This was a hit, he was going to receive a beating it was pre planned. He must of done something even in a filthpit like Porters you rarely get violence for the sake of it. When that happens it is usually a few irate scag dealers with jangled nerves. This guy probably did something to receive this beating, banged some chaps sister, ripped off a drug dealer, who knows.

The place empited pretty sharpish after that and will be empty for quite a while now. Average punters get scared of easily. We stay for another drink but the place was dead. The music grinded my nerves and combined with the violence I was starting to get The Fear. It was only me, fuckup and dave left. We left and went back to spoons. Grabbed a beer and sat down in the corner. We ended up talking politcs at which point we ended screaming at each other. Until the bouncers came over and told us to go home as they were closing the pub.

Some drunk people also told me to "get with the times" as my coat was now out of fashion. I laughed at them but said nothing I didnt want the hassle.

Blaggard [10:30 AM]

[ Thursday, March 21, 2002 ]

I stuck a link up there on the side. Some fool at college managed to by him self some kind of cut and shut car. The engine wasnt even secured in this fucker, it is the kind of thing you check for, especially when the car cost you £4000. Some yahoos made a mock newspaper ripping the piss out of him I aquired a copy of it. Its under the image down the side "Daily Write Off"

As many of us know it is almost time for the next war. Iraq is going to take some punishment. They have been building nuclear weapons, or so we are told. It goes without saying that they are linked with that Bin Laden fellow. As H.S.Thompson said in recent weeks over at his ESPN column the news out of Washington gets werider by the hour. He is right. Now with those war crazies down in Whitehall wanting to let of a few nukes as well. This whole business is only going to get heavier and dirtier.

Where is my pig club? It is time to do some protesting!
Blaggard [5:57 PM]

[ Sunday, March 17, 2002 ]

Last night as any drunken boozefeind knows was St Patricks Eve. Keeping with tradition the only course of action was to go on a crazy drink binge. For a change we decided to go to a place known as Stourbridge, where the majority of us go to college yet never really do any drinking around there. We managed to acheive a crawl of 6 pubs. I was impressed considered we managed to do 3 of them in the last hour. There were lots of kids around the town all trying to get served or telling Fish how fit they thought he was.

I got hidesouly drunk as usual but nothing was really learnt from the expirence, it was just a good night out on the town. One pub we went in called the Chequers Inn was particulary nasty. Bad vibrations as soon as we walked through the door. We werent welcome here. The Fear crept up on me in the place so I necked down my drink as quick as possible just to get the hell out of there. I also bumped into some people from my economics class right at the start of the evening. One of them had definatly over indulged and was looking not too well.

Some people we picked up along the way were telling about there trip to Aberyswyth to look at the university there, the place im considering going.

"One guy said: We had an alterternative arts festival last year and there were guys walking down the street in wardrobes...oh wait I imagined that"

So in the end Ive decided the only course of action is to go and see this place for myself. I still have a chance to go there on the 26th April. Which is a swine really as I have to give in my final decision long before that data comes around. Maybe I could just turn up there one day. That doe have potential benefits and also several legal ramifications if they catch we wondering around the university buildings. Well at the very least it could be interesting.

Aberyswyth, Portsmouth or Stafford. It is going to be a swine of a decision.

Blaggard [10:32 AM]

[ Saturday, March 16, 2002 ]

Last night I went to the pub and got drunk. It was good.

Jones managed to wind the bouncer up by trying to sneak his drink outside. This was one was pretty funny to watch, as he was drunk he kept slipping it back into his pocket when the bouncer was right behind him. The hilarity.
The pimp I talked about earlier didnt stay around for long on this night. He wasnt with any of his hookers so he probably went off to find them, probably down the ole Porters ale house. This week infact we couldent be bothered to leave spoons.
I spouted a load of drivel last night. Just on of those things that happens now and then when your drunk, you make no sense, you know you make no sense yet you carry on jabbering anyways.

So thats about all the interesting thins that happened last night, at least as far as I can remember.

Blaggard [8:28 AM]

[ Wednesday, March 13, 2002 ]

It is now make my mind up time for Universities. I have three choices of were to go.

Abersywth (It is welsh)

My original idea was to go to Exeter. Now that place is a university I had my hopes set on that place and indeed they did give me a offer. Unfortunately it required that I acquire a C in AS Maths. Ill be lucky to get an E, infact Ill find out in the morning as the results will be arriving at college.

So I have these three choices. I think it will be the Welsh one. I am hearing good things about it over the ole phone a few minutes ago. I intended to go and see the place for myself, but what can I say I is a lazy swine. There is another chance but that doesn’t come around till April 26th. Well past the decision date. As Exeter is not a possibility now I will go the way of Galadrial and fade into the west.

After doing a bit of financial jiggery pokery I have determined that after costs of accommodation, about £1800 for the nice rooms and a further £1000 for course materials (I think that £1000 is a bit of an over estimate) I will have around £80 a week to live on. £30 a week for food, £50 for beer and other supplies. Hmmm. Smokes have not been factored into this particular equation. Only thing to do is cut the food bill.

Anyway it is time for me to pour over some financial calculations and organise my court case against the local council. More on the court case on another day.

Blaggard [7:49 PM]

[ Tuesday, March 12, 2002 ]

Pimps just dont try anymore.

While out last Friday night we came across a pimp and his hooker. I have suspected him off being a pimp for some while but was not sure about it. Anyway the hooker who is nearly always with looks about 13 or 14, but as I found out today is at least 16 year olds as she attends a local college. We have had dealings with her before, many moons ago in Porters ale house we came across her offering oral sex for money. Never actually found out for how much exactly but I think it was quite expensive. Fuckup Jones tried to get his wicked way with her which is when she said:

"Sorry, im a prostitute"

A turn down line? Nah, not from the other shit weve seen. Anyway back to Friday I was standing at the bar next to her pimp. Some guy slaps £5 on the table and says to him
"If you can get me some gash for cheaper than that Ill let you keep the fiver"
*Laughs* "Its gonna cost you a lot more than that"

They come in this particular bar nearly every week now, with a different group of guys. This time they were not very discrete, price haggling was more obvious. Systematically she would take them up to the toilets for 5 or 10 mins and then bring them back down.

As for the pimp himself, well he just dont try. When I see a pimp I want to know that he is a pimp. A big hat with a feather in it, gold jewelary and the ability to spout street slang not used since the 1930's. This guy was a let down. A middle aged guy wearing a fucking tracksuit. He definatly needs to work on his pimpin style, it will double his trade.
Blaggard [5:47 PM]

[ Sunday, March 10, 2002 ]

It has been a long time kids.
I havent been doing anything of note except of course the obligatory boozebinges every other day. My future health doesnt really look that good with this lifestyle that I am living, but I rest easy in the knowledge there is always some fuckwit with a bigger drink problem than mine. This weekend has been crazy. Friday night I fucked up and disobeyed the most important rule of drinking.

Dont mix your fucking drinks.

I had about 5 or 6 pints in the spoon then we went to a little place called the Hasbury Inn, a recent business aquisition of one of our friends step-dad. Anyway the chap had stuck some drinks offers on some vodka and iorn-bru drink. Buy one get one free. So I had four of these in quick succession. It didnt really take effect till about 3 hours later, by then it had mixed around quite a lot. During this time I ended up at Clowes house playing with his half built car, The Brown Beast II.

I was asleep in my chair with Jefferson Airplane on loop. I woke up and started vomiting all over the place. Frying my keyboard. I tell you, my vomit was bright orange. I was laughing like crazy for ages, then cleaned it up. Which wasnt much fun.

Last night was a bit more crazy. It was an old school friends birthday bash, he hired a place out and got in a DJ. I hadent seen this chap in quite a while, except at the college party in Feburary where I manged to called him " a fucking cunt". I got twisted on cheap beer. Robatease as we called him was home by about 10:30 vomiting his guts out. All part of the fun. I was sitting in a chair tranfixed on things by the end of the night. I also managed to get lost while trying to find the pisser. That one was pretty fun, roaming around a lesuire centre trying to find the toilets knowing full well it really wouldent be in a squah court. The journey home was a bit crazy. I managed to break Ear's £100 car stereo (that one will just about bankrupt me), he freaked out at Fuckup Jones. As usual he was fucking up in the back of car. He has takin of late to extreme speed drinking, now thanks to his straw method. He can do a bottle in 4 seconds now. It doesnt have good consequences on his liver, but we dont call him Fuckup Jones for nothing.

Thats it for now.
Blaggard [10:30 AM]