ahoy-hoy, my w-a-st-e-rels!this blog posting finds me just out of my sick-bed. no work for me!sadly, this is no mental-health day, this is real illness.went to glasgow to see the mighty charlatans play a blinding show. utterly, utterly fucking brilliant; seen them four times now and this was probably the best show. i still have tinnitus, two days later.glasgow gigs are usually pretty good, given the up=for-it nature of the crowd. the down side being the high number of neds, off their faces, generally getting on one's nipples.definition of a nedurban dictionary is a great site, here are some of my contributions;sackagebawbaggeryquinnbathgood stuff. if these appear to be sad in-jokes that you have no frame of reference for; sorry, you're probably right about that.here's the definition of "jakey", from previous posts.anyway, they do get around, these neds (chavs, to my english cousins) and, frankly, the body odour (usually a combination of amphetamines and not washing) is upsetting to a gentle soul such as myself.this is often compounded by the ned's preference for removing his top and showing off his malnourished torso, in the hope that some poor woman will mistake it for a toned physique.the junkie frame, odour,inevitable tattoos and (in the case of tuesday's gig) horrendous bacne can really take the gloss of a good night out. the gig was amazing, though.i was just glad to have made it though, narrowly avoiding a turf war between turkish fast-food operators. knives were, quite literally, out and i was keen to avoid being chibbed.knowing the band would be back for the encore, i decided to get myself a glass of cola (no alcohol on weeknights for me). as the band ended with a mighty, ten minute version of sproston green (ahhh, nostalgia), i started to feel funny. one of the neds had spiked my drink! what is normally a ninety minute drive home turned into a three hour nightmare of me vomiting out of the passenger seat window, laughing, crying and telling people that i didn't want to be a horse, any more.ladies and gentlemen, it's safe to assume some lovable rascal had put ketamine in my drink. as a result, i've spent the last two days detoxing and evacuating and, for some reason, my nose has gone bright red and broken out in blackheads. i look like a teenager, or at least one with a strawberry for a nose. all i've been able to eat is dry toast (though i'm working up to the aforementioned salad roll) good times!i realise this is the second blog in a row about my bodily functions. i do apologise, and thank you for hanging in there.i'll wrap this up, seeing as i'm supposed to be studying.anything beats work right now. to give you an idea of the death star, the young lovers mentioned in previous posts are not even the biggest freaks on my team. they've hired this weirdo on the weekend shift who mutters to himself about how he should be prime minister and "usher in golden age". pretty impressive, until you realise he probably gets his mum to tie his shoelaces in the morning.he sits next to this old bloke who looks like mr magoo and speaks like rigsby from rising damp (go on, google it if you have to). even the old bloke has realised he no longer holds the title of biggest chube on the team and has, thankfully, toned down his act.i don't mind eccentricity (read my blogs, for god's sake), but mad people who are also boring seem to seek me out. the weekend weirdo was telling me he was going inter-railing around europe in the summer (ok, fair enough) a couple of weeks ago. i was in last sunday (the "hannah incident") when i heard the weirdo puffing and panting behind me (worried? you bet!). maybe he was blowing up a balloon, or a new girlfriend?to once again quote my dear old grandfather - "that laddie's next ride will be his first."incidentally, my granddad is pissed off at me at the moment. i bought him brokeback mountain for his birthday;"oh, is this a western, son? nice one."anyway, i turn round to see the weirdo is blowing up what looks like an inflatable globe, like you'd find in mothercare, or the early learning centre. so i asked him what he was doing.apparently he bought it (he's an only child) so he could bring it in and show me where he was going inter-railing. when i asked him why he didn't just show me a map, or go on the internet, he said;"neither of those options were as good an ice-breaker!"if you don't find this creepy, or are laughing at me right now, i don't want to know.how come all the stalkers in movies are sexy women? i think i'll hide under my bed until the summer.anyway, i love you all. feel that love.your pal,steve x.ps- the charlatans actually played their song weirdo on tuesday. how ironic.
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