Sunday, 27 February 2011

The French Problem

Tony is well and truly excited. As I write, he's sat next door consuming a vast amount of lager, to celebrate England's victory over France in rugby. I'm only pleased that we won, not just because I'm English, but because if we had lost, Tony would have probably gone outside, pinned the first French person he found against a wall, and given him a damn good thrashing.
You see, Tony simply hates the French, and can't understand why so many tourists visit France, when, according to him, all there is to see "are millions of smelly people, sitting in shitty pavement cafes, talking absoulute fucking crap."
I reckon he's right, and like him, I can't think of anything decent to say about the country or its inhabitants.
As Tony says, French cimema is shit, their food is fucking awful, and red wine is no match for a decent pint of export-strength lager. Also, their cars are fucking crap, French people don't know how to enjoy themselves, and nobody understands a word that they fucking say.
Us two think that it was a mistake to build the channel tunnel, and as Tony rightly says, the money blown on joining our two nations together could have been better invested. He just shivers at the thought of our nation no longer being independent from the rest of Europe, and says that if the British people had been given the chance to vote on the subject, they would have said no to the tunnel.
Still, that's all in the past, but as the boy rightly says, we should keep at least one eye on our continental cousins, to make sure that Sarkozy doesn't do a "Napoleon", and think about invading us.
Once again, Tony is spot on, and can only be admired for his sense of patriotism!

Sunday, 20 February 2011

Money To Burn

It's been a very good week for us, and considering we're still unemployed, and have no interest in looking for work, Tony and me reckon that life is certainly getting a lot better for us.
After winning fifty pounds in last week's pub quiz, Tony was lucky enough to find somebody's wallet on the floor of the pub, when we celebrating our marvellous victory against some very tough opposition. Of course, I know that Tony didn't really find the wallet on the floor, but more likely helped himself to it, as he indulged himself in a little bit of pick-pocketing.
I must confess that the boy is really doing well in this particular field of petty crime, and although it's morally wrong to steal from other people, the fact that the victim was a german tourist made us both chuckle, as we guzzled the finest lager his money could buy. Stuffed in the wallet was the princely sum of three hundred pounds, together with seventy euros and a season ticket to Berlin Zoo. Tony says that he'll keep the ticket as a souvenir, and has also put the seventy euros to one side, because he's planning a day trip to the continent very soon.
The german complained to Sid the landlord that thieves were at work in his pub, and added that in Germany, innocent tourists are never the target of such cunning individuals. Sid just laughed, and after telling the German that he didn't give two fucks about him or his wallet, treated everybody in the pub to his Adolf Hitler impersonation. Needless to say, the german left in a bit of a hurry, saying as he left, in very poor English, that it's about time that us English forgot the war, and looked to the future.

Wednesday, 16 February 2011

A Winning Team

Sid, the landlord of our favourite pub, has asked Tony and me if we want to take part in another pub quiz. First prize to the winners is fifty pounds, which Tony reckons would do just nicely right now, as we are, as he puts it, "poorer than a third world nation."
The boy was up all night revising for the quiz, which he claims will be a walk in the park. I reckon that he's right, and providing we can stay off the beer long enough, and concentrate on the job in hand, with our combined general knowledge, the prize money is as good as ours.
However, there will be some tough competition, but as Tony says, whilst he knows very little about world politics, science, geography or current affairs, he is a walking encyclopedia when it comes to football.
Sid says that tonight is going to be a blazing success, and he's literally rubbing his hands with glee when he thinks about all the drink he's going to sell tonight.
Tony's now off for an afternoon nap, which he says is vital to relax his brain, and get him in shape for tonight. After that, we're going to have a light lunch of cheeseburgers and lager, and then spend the rest of the afternoon revising.
Tony forsees great things happening tonight, and although victory is not yet ours, he reckons that the two of us are just a few hours from showing the world that although we're two idle, foul-mouthed layabouts, we're also right up there with Einstein when it comes to pushing the brain to its limits!

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Spring.....when a young man's fancy turns to lager.

Today we opened the only window in the flat, to take in some of what Tony calls the "taste of spring." It's the first time since November that we've opened the window, and I reckon that the boy's right when he says that winter is over, and springtime is upon us, even if it has arrived much earlier than usual.
It's great to get some fresh air in the flat, because to be quite honest, the place was beginning to smell a little bit on the stale side, with the constant odour of cheeseburgers, cigarettes and bodily gasses circulating on a daily basis, but never quite disappearing.
Last night, an expert said that global warming in to blame for the unusually high temperatures we're experiencing in London, but as Tony says, he doesn't give two fucks about WHY it's warm outside, but instead he's just happy that we'll now be able to walk to and from the pub, without risking death by severe frostbite. Also, as he rightly adds, the warm weather gives us a real reason to start drinking more lager, if we're to avoid suffering the effects of dehydration.
Unfortunately, the downside of the warm weather is that the streets of London will soon start to fill with tourists, but as Tony points out, it's a small price to pay, and after all, if the tourists in question happen to be eighteen year old, female Swedish virgins, then it's not really much of a problem.
Now, we're off to the pub to ease ourselves into the summer of 2011, and to drink ourselves completely senseless!

Sunday, 6 February 2011

God Will Save Us

Tony reckons that religion is a terrible thing, which makes normal people become obsessed with the fact that miracles do happen.
I agree with the boy, and whilst in the pub last night, I politely told a member of the local church that she and her ideas aren't welcome in the pub, where decent non-working people like us like to enjoy a pint, without being bothered by the ramblings of deranged bible-bashers.
Sid agreed with me, and after showing the woman the door, shouted out to her that if there is a God, why is there so much trouble in the world. The woman replied that God isn't here to solve individual problems, but instead looks after all of us like one big family, and like with all families, from time to time there are the occasional problems.
Tony wanted to chase after her to give her a good mouthful, but as Sid said, the woman can't help it if she is mentally unbalanced. Tony agreed, and after knocking back a few pints, said that churches represent evil, and if he had his way, and he was the minister of religious affairs, he would start knocking them down, and start replacing them with pubs and twenty-four hour burger bars.
Once again, I take my hat off to the boy, and although I've said it so many times before, I will say again that he's a real genius, who leads, where others can only follow.

Thursday, 3 February 2011

Early Morning Radio

Last night we had one hell of an evening, and even though he downed fifteen pints of strong lager, the boy Tony was still able to seduce his way into another poor, unsuspecting girl's underwear. The "victim" this time was called Sally, aged twenty-two, who said that she came from California, and was in England with her parents. Of course, Tony just loves the american accent, and after amusing Sally with his wicked wit and near to the knuckle anecdotes, the two of them returned to the flat, to do what only comes naturally.
So last night he was on a high, but this morning he's depressed and  all upset, because the lovely Sally left in the middle of the night, without even a goodbye.
Not even the promise a double bacon-cum-cheeseburger has cheered him up, and to make matters worse, the early morning radio show is beginning to get to him.
I mean, I can see his point. A woman has just telephoned the show to say that where she lives, in north London, it's impossible to find a place to park her car near to her house. The radio show host said that parking in big cities was today's number one "menace", and people should start to revolt against local authorities, until something is done about the problem.
Well, as Tony rightly said, before smashing his fist into the radio, he was of the opinion that terrorism was today's number one "menace", and not the lack of fucking parking spaces. He then said that he would love to go to the radio station and rip the host's head off his shoulders.
I sense that today is going to be full of hatred and tension, but then again, life would be so boring if it was anything but!

Tuesday, 1 February 2011

Help The Starving People Of The World

We've just come back from the pub, and even though we're unemployed and living day to day, Tony reckons that because we live in a democracy, we'll always be looked after.
I think that the boy is right, and can't help but think that so many of the problems which are currently affecting Tunisia, Egypt and other african countries are a result of these countries being run by dictators, who prefer to make themselves rich, instead of feeding their citizens.
Tony says that cheap burgers could be the solution to the north african crisis, and says that the United Nations should consider airlifting tonnes of cheese, bacon and chicken burgers to the worst affected areas, to help put a smile back on the faces of the world's unfed masses.
As usual, I think that Tony has come up with a real winner, and reckon that by even throwing in a few Happy Meals, that lot in north africa will soon start to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
As we speak, the boy is in the kitchen, going through last night's leftovers in the bin, to see if there's anything we can stick in the post straight away, to at least help a family or two.
And there I was, thinking that he's just a fat, heartless bastard, who only thinks about himself, when all along, he's right up there with Mother Theresa and other do-gooders!