Up the Hammers!!!!

Awwww was on the tube home tonight and as we arrived at Paddington we were swamped by millions of Hammers fans.

Tired, dejected and some quite drunk they were very quiet. Just sitting their heads in their hands and without a bubble to be seen.

Bless em! I think "They was robbed!" What a game and to lose on a shoot out! HORRIBLE!

Wierd Phone Call

Had a very strange call the other day!!!!!! A "kind of" familiar voice stated "We have your children send us 15 grand!!!" I explained this to Kayla and said we must report it to the Police!!! She just looked at me and said "Have you paid the boaring school?"

DOH!

Beware.....There be Thieves!!!!!!!!

The other weekend I was sat in my Bayswater local having a pint and Pie"n"Mash when a terrible din started. "Oh My Lord!..... Oh Lordy Lordy! My Bag! Where is my bag?" A rather wide bottomed American lady (arn't they all!) was going hysterical as she had lost her handbag. Or so it seemed. The duty manager was quickly on the case and trying to calm the situation down. "What kind of handbag was it madame?" enquired the DM. "My fannybag it was my fannybag....oh Lordy........oh my Lord!.......my fannybag!!!!!" the woman was in such a state now she was chanting the "Lordy-o-Lorks fannybag mantra". The DM retired to call the Police. Her husband was complaining that London was full of criminals, and that it rained too much, and that our beer was a funny colour and warm!

I sat back and watched the caberet. The Police duly arrived and went through the same routine as the DM had done 20 mins earlier. It transpires that she last remembers having her fannybag (bumbag) about two hours ago whilst sitting on a bench in Kensington Gardens. Hubby went to get I quote "soda-pops (Coke Pepsi..etc.....and candy (Chocky sweeties etc) from the little smiling brown man" (maybe a kiosk of some kind or on the other hand they may be on acid?) She then went over to Hubby so that she could add some chips (crisps) to the order. She thinks she may have left the fannybag on the bench. They then headed here to have lunch! (I should suggest they have salad!) and noticed the fannybag had been stolen (lost).

This is when it gets good...(for the audience not for the Americans). The Police Officer asks what was in the fannybag madame? "Well she says let me think.........erm...... 400 of your pounds....700 US......our passports.......return flight tickets.......credit cards......hotel keys.......map of how to get to Hotel.......Digital Camera........Video Camera........Hotel safety deposit box key.........Hotel safety deposit box paperwork...........birth certificates......hire car keys.......hire car keys paperwork (giving make, reg and colour of car!) and on and on and on. I had a mental picture of the shere size of the fannybag, it must be huge. I wouldn't be surprised if the bloody hire car was in there aswell!

Note to tourists leave your stuff in the hotel and keep always keep 1 hand on your fanny!

The Bitch!!!!!!

Jumping on a Circle Line Tube last Friday I managed to pick up the last free Metro (free daily newspaper) in the carraige, much to the annoyance of another chap who was also reaching for it.

He sat across from me glaring through his huge designer glasses, with his gelled quiffy hair boufont making him look like an angry "Hank Marvin" from the Shadows. His delacte little legs crossing and uncrossing whilst he picked aggresively at his manacured fingers. All in all he looked like some kind of angry insectoid in his pin striped suit, pink shirt and horrible tie. Muttering to himself and staring across at me for the whole journey to South Kensington.

It was quite surreal, I was being harrased by some suited queen that must have weighed less than 8 stone dripping wet! I stood up as the train approached my stop. I looked directly at him smiling as I placed the Metro down on my vacated seat. Quick as a flash I grabbed my ruck sack and then once again grabbed the Metro, folding it whilst grinning like a Cheshire cat in my sack it went! Well! it was hilarious the suited queen was crackling with fury! The crossing and uncrossing of legs were now becoming a serious fire hazard. It was due to the fact the suit was a good quality one that he/she did not spontainiously combust and go up in a poof of pink smoke!

Livid he ranted "now he is taking my paper with him!" "Oh I should slap YOU!" he seethed. I drew to my full height (6 foot1 and 16 and a half stone) and leaning over him said "I don't think you should try that!" Wide-eyed he sat back and for once was silent.

The train stopped and I got off. The irrate queen was stood at the carriage door still hissing and spitting, the last thing I heard him screech was "I hope you die this weekend you bitch!" A little extreme I thought, death curses over a free newspaper!

Another passesnger walking along side me could not hide his mirth, tears were rolling down his cheeks. "Mate", he said "that was so funny I wish the fag had slapped ya! it would have been horrible" Chuckling he dissapeared into the crowd.

Fag Butts and Vodka Bottles

Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I hate the 10000000000000000 fag butts that litter the steps of the Royal Marsden.

People are either too thick, stupid or thick skinned to refrain from smoking outside of the entrance of this famous CANCER fighting Hospital!!!!

It pisses me off that they partake of the evil weed in public! but why oh why don't these chav and toff mutants leave their butt ends on the steps and not in any of the 3 bins provided!!!!!

I wonder if the entrance to the Cromwell Hospital is littered with drunks and empty Vodka bottles???????????