So, there we were, watching another shit film on the television, when Tony announced that he was bored, and that he wanted to go the pub, get very drunk, and "flush the anger out of his system."
For once, I agreed with the boy when he said that television is slowly killing the art of having a good time, and not wasting any more time, we both headed off for the pub, in search of some decent conversation, strong lager and some good entertainment.
The pub was packed, but as usual, we found a place at the bar, even though we had to force our way through a crowd of spotty twenty year olds, who were talking shit, and sending text messages to one another, in between drinking their pints of beer.
Tony laughed when he saw what he called "the kids from hell," because, he said, when he was young, he was nothing like what the kids of today are like.
I reckon that he's right, but as Tony said, times have changed, and so we must tolerate the younger generation of today.
Of course, after five pints, Tony soon changed his point of view, and after being accidentally nudged by one of the spotty fuckers, Tony grabbed him by the throat, and threatened to rip his head off his shoulders.
Sid, the landlord, chuckled, and said although he admired Tony's attempt to be tolerant, he knew full well that after a few pints of strong lager, and a couple of whiskies, Tony is not the sort of man to take being nudged lightly.
The "kids" soon left the pub, calling Tony a fat bastard as they ran up the street.
Tony laughed, and although he would have liked to run after the little bastards, he knew full well that his obesity prevented him from doing so.
Still, as he said, he's a very happy person, even if he is fucking fat!