It was a great night in the pub last night, only dampened somewhat by the Arsenal result. Glen said that he had a great evening, but he couldn't stay until closing time, because he had some business to attend to on the other side of the river. However, the three of us had a f*cking great time, and we all chuckled when Glen got out his iron bar, and started to threaten a german family, who were enjoying a quiet drink in the corner of the bar. Sid the landlord turned a blind eye, and said that Glen obviously has a lot of hatred inside of him, and that it seemed only right that he vented his anger on the family.
Some woman approached me halfway through the evening, and said that she was collecting money for Injured Horses Infirmary in central London. Well, I've never heard so much f*cking shit in my entire life, and I told her so. I mean - horses in London? Sid chuckled, and said that she had been collecting money in the pub last week for the Disabled Badgers Society. Tony said that it's a f*cking disgrace that people are using animals to con decent non-working people like us out of our unemployment benefit.
I agree with him, and have made it clear that this year the Abandoned Kittens Home can go and f*ck themselves if they think that they're going to get any of my cash!