Sunday, 30 October 2011

Napoleon, Elvis, Tony & Me!

Last night's fancy-dress Halloween party was a real success, with Tony beating his own personal lager drinking record of nineteen pints in an evening. He managed twenty-two pints of export-strength lager before deciding that his body wasn't meant to support so much beer, and therefore had no choice but to vomit the contents of his stomach over another party-goer, who had come disguised as Napoleon.
Tony laughed when he realised what he had done, telling the pub that he doesn't like the French very much, and that if he had vomited over Napoleon it was because "a force stronger than him had compelled him to do it."
Sid, the landlord of the pub, was dressed up as Elvis (before he died), which we all thought was a fine homage to a man who Sid ranks alongside Winston Churchill as "a man who did so much for the world."
The winner of the best-dressed party-goer was a guy who came disguised as Adolf Hitler, which won him a bottle of champagne and a free pint of beer.
Tony went as himself, saying that fancy-dress isn't really his thing. However, his bulging stomach, beer-stained t-shirt and colourful language made most of us believe that he had actually gone to the party dressed as a football hooligan.
Needless to say, we all had a great evening, and even if Tony had vomited over one of France's finest generals, seeing Napoleon covered in vomit just made the party that so much better!

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Our Friends From Poland

We've just returned from the pub, where we spent a fun-packed evening with a couple of Polish labourers, who have come to London to work on the site where the Olympic village is being built, for next year's summer Olympic games.
Tony was impressed by our new friends' ability to drink vast amounts of strong lager, whilst managing to engage us in conversation, as if they were drinking, as Tony says, nothing stronger than lemonade.
Of course, the boy's right when he says that Poland isn't really known for anything extraordinary, and if all the country has to offer is a population of hopeless alcoholics, it's no wonder that not many people see Poland as one of their ideal holiday destinations.
I reckon that Tony has got a point, because although he admired the way our two new friends displayed such wonderful skills in downing their lager, whilst remaining completely sober, he said that their terrible body odour and poor command of the English language really let them down.
Sid, the landlord of our favourite pub, agreed with Tony, and said that the Polish are a miserable looking race,and that our friends looked like a decent party and a trip to a fast-food restaurant would do wonders to bring a smile to their grey and cheerless faces.
I told Sid that he's probably right, but as I wasn't put on this planet to bring happiness to others, and because I can't speak a word of Polish, as much as I would have loved to invite our friends to the pub's halloween party at the weekend, I didn't.
Still, as Tony pointed out, we've probably done enough tonight to help bring Poland and England a little closer together, so we can hold our heads high Saturday, at the pub's fancy dress party, knowing that if Anglo-Polish relations are just a little bit better than last week, it's probably because of Tony and me, and the fact that for once we treated a couple of foreigners in the pub with a bit of understanding and respect.

Sunday, 23 October 2011

Winning All The Way!

Tony reckons that we're now on a winning streak, since he won a very welcome sum of money in the pub last night, in a high-stakes poker game.
Of course, Sid, the landlord of our favourite drinking establishment had to wait until closing time before the game could begin, as gambling is illegal in the pub, and he didn't want any bother with the police, who he reckons are all bastards, and would be better off catching real criminals, instead of persecuting honest people like him, who only want to put a bit if sunshine into the lives of depressed people like Tony and me.
Sid fell by the wayside early on in the game, leaving Tony and me up against a couple of ugly looking bastards from north London, who tried to intimidate us by wearing sunglasses throughout the game, and repeatedly mentioning the fact that they've both spent time in prison for attempted murder.
Needless to say, the boy Tony took it all in his stride, and just after one o'clock this morning walked away from the game with over a thousand pounds in cash.
Of course, the losers were far from happy, but as Tony often says, other peoples' happiness isn't his problem.
Still, I reckon my overweight friend is right when he says that God was smiling down on us last night, and that him winning the poker game of his life probably ranks alongside John F Kennedy getting shot, because people in years to come will still be talking about the day Tony showed the world that although he may be a hopeless loser when it comes to getting a job, when it comes to poker and drinking lager, he's a born WINNER!

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Dreaming Of A Glittering Career

The boy Tony has got a real spring in his step at the moment, since he discovered that our local fast-food restaurant is looking for enthusiastic, determined and motivated individuals, to join its fast-track trainee management scheme.
The last time I saw him this happy is when he beat his own personal drinking record, by downing nineteen pints of lager in an evening, before crashing to the floor in the middle of our favourite pub.
However, whilst Tony reckons that him and fast-food restaurants were made for each other, and that "motivation" is his middle name, I can't see a glittering career for him as a trainee manager at our local burger bar.
Tony says that I'm just a man who lacks vision and drive, but I replied that I'm a man with a very good memory, and that I recall as if it was only yesterday when he got a job serving pizzas at our local pizzeria.
Sadly, because of his violent temper and need to drink on the job, a request for "extra mushrooms and spicy sausage" from a very rude customer was all that was required for my obese friend to leap over the counter and beat the poor, unsuspecting customer senseless.
Needless to say, Tony's career in pizzas came to sudden end, as the magistrate the following day sentenced him to three months behind bars for assault and violence.
The boy knows that I'm right, but says that every now and then even people like us can have a dream, and think about bettering ourselves.
I told the fat bastard that I agree with him, and as this very moment in time I'm dreaming of going to the pub to get absolutely hammered!

Sunday, 16 October 2011

Who Wants To Be Fat Tony?

We've just finished watching a documentary about hacking and internet fraud, and how people use elaborate scams and hoaxes to steal other peoples' identities.
Tony was amazed to see how easy cyber theft really is, and says that he may well close his social networking account, because he wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he thought somebody out there in the big, wide world was keen on stealing his identity, for fraudulent purposes.
Needless to say, I put my fat friend at ease, and said that with him being a hopeless loser, who hasn't worked for years and years, who has a criminal record as long as his arm, and has no cash whatsoever, only somebody mentally disturbed and with an I.Q. lower than six would even think about wanting to steal his identity.
The boy laughed when he realised that I was right, and said that being an unemployed parasite does have its advantages after all.
So now that he's decided that he can go on e-mailing his friends, all over the world, without the risk of being "violated in space", as he refers to the problem, we're off to the pub to celebrate this marvellous news, and drink ourselves senseless, whilst planning what we're going to do in the forthcoming week.
Now, I know I've said it a hundred times before, but I must say it once again - I'LL DRINK TO THAT!

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Poker, Porn & Cigarettes

Tony's been up all night playing on-line poker, which he reckons is a great way to win loads of cash, fast, whilst avoiding burning up useful calories, which would be the case if he did a job which involved him moving around for hours on end, tiring him out, and sapping him of his energy.
Of course, last night he ddn't actually win any money, but instead lost over two hundred pounds, which was our housekeeping budget for this month. However, he did manage to drink eighteen cans of lager, smoke two packets of cigarettes and believe for just a few moments that he was in Vegas, playing the game of his life against some high-rollers.
The fact that we haven't got any money left to buy any food this month doesn't really bother me, because as Tony says, he's a fat bastard, who needs to lose a few pounds in weight. However, I've made it quite clear that the on-line gambling has got to stop, because it can become very addictive, and could lead to financial ruin.
Tony was very apologetic, and has promised that from now on he'll be using the internet for porn, and keeping in touch with his numerous friends via e-mail.
Mercifully, I've managed to save my only friend from becoming a hopeless, down and out gambler, and so to celebrate this marvellous victory, we're both off to the pub, to drink ourselves senseless, and hopefully flush Tony's gambling addiction out of his system.

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

Jobs, Sex & Free Sandwiches

Tony and me have spent most of the day at a jobs fair, to see if there’s anything on offer for two long-term, unemployed men, like us, who want to get back into the world of employment.
Well, that’s what we told the very attractive looking girl behind the desk, who asked us what exactly it is we want to do, to earn our living.
Of course, we have no interest in working for a living, especially as winter is on the horizon, and as the boy Tony rightly observes, staying indoors is the only thing we can really think about doing, when the temperature drops below zero, and even the thought of venturing out and going to the pub is enough to send a chill down our spines.
So why the fuck did we get up early this morning, get a bus to north London, and spend a few hours drifting around aimlessly, listening to recruitment consultants talking utter shit, and giving our CV’s to potential employers?
Well - don’t fucking ask me.
But all I can say is that the free sandwiches at lunchtime were great, the free bottles of mineral water were less than great, but the time we spent after, in the pub around the corner, was really great, and that Jenny and Samantha, from Nevada, are both in the bathroom, getting ready for a night out that we hope none of us will forget in a hurry.
And as Tony rightly says: working for a living is okay, but going to the pub, with a pair of stunners from America, is just so much better.
Now, I’ll drink to that!

Sunday, 2 October 2011

Running Wild In London

Tony and me have spent most of the weekend with a couple of girls from Canada, who we met the other night, in the pub.
Beth and Cindy are over here for a few weeks, for part of their architecture and design course, to see just how magnificent London's architecture really is, and how the face of London has changed over the centuries.
Tony reckons that studying buildings sounds as about as interesting as taking photos of butterflies, and if it wasn't for the fact that Beth and Cindy seem like they're desperate to have sex with two men like us, I reckon the boy would have given the two girls their marching orders Friday night.
Still, we have completed phase one of the mating process, after spending all day yesterday in Hyde Park, drinking cans of warm lager, smoking cheap cigarettes, and promising the girls a Sunday they're not likely to forget in a hurry.
We're now off for an open-top bus tour of London, to take in Big Ben, Buckingham Palace and...yawn...Tower Bridge, after which we'll go to the pub, to study a fine example of sixteenth century architecture, as we gaze up at the oak-beam ceiling, whilst drinking cold lager, and preparing ourselves for phase two of the weekend - sex.
And Tony's right when he says that our bedrooms are a fine example of contemporary design, which Beth and Cindy should appreciate, and which is why we've decided to dedicate all of this afternoon to helping our friends study the angles and layout of our flat, in between doing things with the two of us.