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[Jun. 6th, 2008|12:02 pm] |
I was pretty high on friday - my friend B gets this skunk stuff that knocks you on your arse pretty quickly, and I don't usually toke, and I'd had cider. Don't worry, this isn't going to be a lame BBBS post.
Anyway I was stoned and drunk and we were having a good time in Leeds, as you do. We were heading for a cashpoint.
Hyde Park was awash with students dressed in bland formalware, since it was some kind of ball thing, and Leeds students taken as a median average have less style and taste than a horse's cunt following a stroke.
This made the three scuzzbags at the cashpoint queue stand out.
They were the kind of lame pricks you see around usually in the rock scene - cutoff jeans, big studded belts, black band hoodies, baseball caps - but something about them, some little pattern recognition quirk screamed these guys are dicks and you should blugeon them. It was like a spidey sense that detects shitbags.
In front of us was a lady with a pretty well groomed, docile labrador. The scuzzbags were rowdy.
One of them started to kiss the dog. He put his tounge in the dog. The mouth of the dog. His tounge.
My fists bunched - was I going to have to summon the strength to kick the fuck out of three cuntflops to defend the virtue of a stranger's dog? They'd certainly deserve it.
She got more and more uncomfortable, as the dudes kissed her dog. After they got cash they stuck around and continued to make out with the dog. She got her cash and left quickly. It was the creepiest thing I'd ever seen.
One more detail: the guy who was photographing the guy kissing the dog had dead hands. They were covered with a thick layer of dead, peeling skin. Hands of the grave.
I just remembered all this, because I was pretty stoned on friday. |
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