A few funny things about this photo -
- Didn’t realise there was some Eurotrash Italian guy next to The Chimp
- He’s drinking a carton of milk on a disgustingly hot day
- His shirt is impossibly tight
- If you look closely at his shirt, it’s actually a crew neck that’s been cut into a v neck
- If you look closely again, his shirt is actually drenched in sweat
- There’s a guy in the real far background wearing a dark blue crop top
- The kid on the left is having a drink but he has no drink
- The whole purpose of this photo was to see how attractive that broad on the right in the white top is
The Chimp at work.
The Street Youth Chimp.
Finally, after months of toiling work down the coal mines, The Rodent, The Chimp and I managed to get a couple of days off for a visit down to one of Britain’s treasures, Bournemouth. The Chimp was going to meet us there so it was just The Rodent and I making the two and half hour car journey down. I was slightly disappointed when The Rodent pulled up to pick me up on the miserable day because we agreed that it was ‘thug week’ where we would be dressed as low life scum bags. Instead, he opted for an extremely oversized hawaiian shirt that made him look like a Mexican gangbanger.
After missing the exit into the Swindon services where I was hoping we would go as it had a Toy r Us and was particularly scummy we had to settle for a break in Marlborough. Marlborough more than made up for Swindon though. As we walked into Tesco to buy essential supplies, we noticed the whole place was literally filled with teenagers. We figured out that as Marlborough was such a small town, they had nowhere to go so Tesco was the place to be. After stocking up, we tried our hand at tailgating and opened the car boot where I found a sweet high visibility jacket. I put it on and started pushing the trollies around as I believe myself to be a valuable contributing member of society. We continued our journey to Bournemouth after I managed to get a creepy picture of all the teenagers loitering around the wall.
Ok not gonna lie now, the rest was mental I can’t even remember it. Not. Bournemouth is a miserable dark place. Highlights were -
- Walking around drinking like street youths
- Stealing The Chimp’s shorts in the sea and throwing them on land where little children could see
- The Chimp kicking a dog because it tried to steal his beer
- The Chimp hitting on the dog’s Polish owner and telling her she could pay us back by buying us a drink in the evening. Also letting her know that I fell in love with a Polish receptionist called Ania Wolska in Krakow
- Trying to get a scumbag narcotics dealer to come round Kapil’s house and just hang out with us
- Ruining a wedding photo
So yeah thanks Kapil, you little curry boy.
César se va Cheltenham
As I was leaving Cheltenham forever, The Rodent, The Chimp and I decided to go out one last time on Friday night. It was, “Arby’s Li Ving” night (I thought of that for a long time).
There was no actual plan but around 10pm I got a call from The Rodent excitedly telling me that he had a huge bottle of vodka given to him by his gangbanger colleagues at Aldi as his leaving present. The Chimp got to mine first and we headed to one of the two Whetherspoons in town. After making sure The Chimp would stay out and not call his girlfriend by telling him how much he loves dancing, we had the finest of what Mr Sam Adams had to offer which The Rodent described as having “complex levels” followed by downing some coma inducing beverages.
We then headed off the Sainsbury’s to find some mixers for The Rodent’s disgustingly cheap vodka, however, it was closed so we decided to go to the next Whetherspoons and be lowlife scumbags by buying soft drinks to mix with it. Thought it was time to get out when The Rodent started putting needles in drinks like a crackhead.
The next venue was a club called Fever, this was the place we went to when we first went out together and we thought we should head there again because it was there that The Chimp found girls he could wrap his arms around length wise but not width wise. Once we went to Fever, The Chimp headed straight to the dance floor to dance with a couple of larger ladies. Meanwhile, The Rodent was chatting up this middle aged woman. We later learnt that she was a mother of a four year old and had a boyfriend called Snowy that we should know because he was a big shot.
Decided to then go to KFC and eat a bucket of greasy goodness. We convinced the person serving us that I was a huge KFC fanatic that bought Colonel Sander’s suit at an auction along with Michael Jordan’s special sauce that was produced on a limited run. Also got him to believe that I work on a farm because I refused to have anything apart from the upper thigh and drumstick of the fried chicken. We ate like animals and inadvertently made a disgusting mess but The Chimp still managed to start chatting up this girl in the queue.
The Chimp was out of control at this point and insisted he go back to Fever regardless if we went with him because he just loved dancing so much. The Rodent and I said we would just call it a night but then decided to follow him to see if he actually was going back on his own. We watched him stagger down but then he started talking to a couple of older women on the street getting into their car. After a few minutes, he got into their car as well and I ran up to find what the fuck was going on. I went over and saw The Chimp in the backseat sipping a Krushem through a straw and sharing it with one of the women. I started talking to these old ladies and they asked if we wanted to join them, I thought it was hilarious at the time and called The Rodent to get in. So the three of us where in a car with two much older women that were most likely cougars out hunting for their prey, although to be fair, it was very nice of them to make sure we had our seatbelts done properly. We learnt that one of them had a daughter the same age as us and she didn’t know where she was but had a suspicion she was in Egypt.
They drove us for five minutes and kept referring to us as “The Boy’s”. We stopped at a club where they wanted us to go in with them. The Chimp was well up for it as he does love dancing but The Rodent and I were not so sure. Even as we were going in, the bouncer asked us why the fuck were we with two older birds. Thinking it was way too weird now, we made sure The Chimp went in with them and pretended we were just finding our money then got the fuck out of there leaving him on his own with two cougars.
The Chimp never said what happened. All I know is that he got dropped off at mine in the morning by one of the women.
This is John Morris’ diary in Europe last year. It tells you three things, John is the whitest person to ever live, Gian is a thug and I am mentally disturbed.
Arby and Gian arrived at Amsterdam airport drunk, got train to…
Checked into hostel, went and smoked, wandered round red light district, went to bed, room incredibly hot and some cunt snored absurdly loudly. Arby photographed a sleeping roommates’ vagina.
Got up, spent five hours finding brekky, booking train tickets, and shaving heads. Had lunch, Arby ate half a gram and then, needing a shit, snuck into the Renaissance hotel, nice fancy toilets, the Dalai (Arby) moisturised and washed his head.
Ran into a guy with a potted plant on his head who kept saying ‘fuck America’. He removed his shirt and headed into shops to find a pen so we could draw fuck America on him. We took this opportunity to peg it away from this crackhead.
Walked down to Anne Frank House, Westerkerk, and the flower market, then back through Dam Square to the hostel. Headed out to watch Italy-Germany in a nearby coffeeshop. It was some good shit we were smoking so after 50 minutes we headed outside for a walk. We toured the red light district, inquiring about the possibility of triple penetration, which had to be mimed due to the prostitute not understanding. Also negotiated was for one to fuck, two to watch and wank. We then walked down to Leidseplein, went on a small zipwire, and headed home via Rembrandtplein and the RLD.
Got up, checked out, chored internet at the Apple store until they disconnected us, then after a last spliff boarded the train to Bern, Switzerland.
We took an initial four-hour train to Frankfurt, the first 2 hours of which passed in a blissful haze induced by the “Northern Lights” strain. At Frankfurt we boarded an absolutely packed train, and failing to find a seat we sat on the floor outside some 1st-class cabins. We passed three hours like this, with the weather getting noticeably warmer with each stop as we headed South. We managed to nab our own cabin at Basel, and enjoyed an air-conditioned half-hour before the ticket man kicked us into 2nd class.
Eventually the train reached the Swiss capital, and as we approached the station our moods grew increasingly sombre as we saw seemingly endless factories and graffitied houses. We stepped off the train, onto a dank platform and our first view of the city was so unpleasant we started to wonder what we had done to deserve this.
Eventually we found our way to a nice part of town and the impressive Parliament building with a beautiful view over the city. After a Maccy D’s, and Gian and Arby getting caught in the women’s bathroom, we headed down to the river to sleep rough on only our 3rd night in Europe. We each took a 2-hour watch from 12-6, although there wasn’t much sleep to be had, woke up at 6 by the river, not a bad place to wake up, went to station but train to Milan was full, headed back to Parliament building to sleep on a bench, Arby met a man called Boris, who was drinking and smoking at 9am, also played rugby for Switzerland. Back to station for train to Milan.
The train was fucking hot but passed through some amazing mountainous landscapes and gorges. Eventually hit Milan which was also a complete shithole.
Took a taxi to our hostel which was 6km from the city centre, in a quiet, somewhat scummy neighbourhood. Climbed a small hill, went to Carrefour and a pizza place before getting a relatively early night.
We made the trek to the city centre in the morning, and saw the stunning Duomo, the city’s centrepiece. Splashed our feet in a fountain. The street vendors were cunts. After lunch, went to look for a Carrefour for food and booze but as the solitary cunt there rudely intoned, the store was shut due to inventory.
We made our way back into town and stocked up at a supermarket that was far closer to the centre, including 70cl of Smirnoff vodka for 6 euros. Arrived at the Piazza and even three-and-a-half hours before kick-off, there were hundreds of fans chanting and blowing their horns. We claimed our place and began the wait. The crowd slowly grew until the huge square was filled in its entirety (reportedly 60,000 people), and the combination of Italian flags, flares and air horns created a fervent atmosphere. As kick-off approached we somehow found ourselves next to the ultras (also cunts), who were entertaining themselves by smashing glass bottles and slapping each other. Flash bangs went off with increasing regularity, we got singed by a flare, and began to legitimately fear for our safety. Thankfully the game kicked off and the crowd settled down a bit. There was fantastic noise until the first goal went in. The masses soon regained their voices although the second goal before half-time put Italy right on the brink and the crowd knew it. More out of hope than expectation the 2nd half kicked off to a great roar, but it just got worse as Motta got injured with Italy having used all 3 of their subs. The crowds thinned after the 3rd goal but having travelled 2 days to get here there was really no point in us leaving early. The square was almost overflowing with litter as we left and eventually hailed a taxi to take us home.
Milan to Munich
Really nice scenery, seats which folded to make beds, having a nice conversation when rudely interrupted by thuggish German border police. Arrived in Munich around 9.
Put our stuff in lockers, went into town, nice place, got a kebab, got a beer in Hofbrauhaus, chored the glass! Slept rough at the train station.
Woken up at 5am by security, manage to smash Limoncello, wait for three hours, go to supermarket, board train, own carriage for 6-hour journey. As we arrive, Prague looks like the biggest shithole yet.
Walk to hostel, staff are really friendly, room is huge even with 13 beds. Find out it’s legal to possess pretty much any drug and the helpful man at reception marks a bar where we can find a dealer. We strike out for the “Chapeau Rouge”, stopping at military and sex shops along the way.
Taking shelter from the rain in an arcade we stumble upon a store selling Duff beer, it’s expensive but definitely worth it for the novelty. Go to Chapeau Rouge and a big guy loitering by the toilets sells us 4g of weed for about £9 a gram. We head back and while rolling talk to a guy called Will from Birmingham uni. He stays with us as we smoke it and seems to be disappointed not to be enjoying some free weed.
The blunt’s barely finished when the effects start to kick in, we head down to the dungeon. Arby puts some incredibly slow, weedy music on. I feel elated and can’t stop laughing, Chimp can’t stop fidgeting and eventually becomes quite panicked. Arby mongs for the most part and is a million miles away although does dance for quite a bit. 4 guys from California come down and make friendly conversation, but friendly conversation is beyond any of us at the moment. Eventually we climb back up to our room and crash.
We wake the next day and head into town, seeing a little bit before heading across the river to the North. We climb and walk through a park, stopping for a steak sandwich from a friendly barbecue guy. We walk to the Metronome which has stunning views over the city. We make a quick stop by Sparta Prague’s stadium before walking back into town, along an incredibly expensive street, for a 3-hour walking tour. It’s interesting and after we take 2 Russians back to the hostel to sell them some weed, making us drug dealers.
We go out for a 4th of July pub crawl, starting with a 2-hour all-you-can-eat and open bar. Needless to say we take full advantage of this by stuffing as much food and alcohol down our gullets as physically possible, totally ignoring the other people there. We get caught ‘stealing’ beers from the open bar by the angry owner (who got even more annoyed when he discovered the beers were warm), meet a racist redneck having a piss, and Arby smashes a glass bottle on the ground before spewing a red, wing-filled chunder. Gian and Arby go home soon after, leaving me on my larry and very drunk. I dance with a Dutch girl but head home fairly early. It later transpires that Arby had sold 2g of weed to some Spanish guys in our room, while Chimp vandalised a bus stop by throwing a rock at it, shattering an advertising board.
Again we rise and walk into town, this time across the Charles Bridge, which is packed, and there seem to be fit girls everywhere I look. Maybe it’s the not wanking. Anyway we meant to walk up to the castle but instead get sidetracked, meeting an Algerian man, buying a comically fat cigar, and then we hit an Absintherie. We also smoke a doobie, and pass a considerable but very pleasant length of time just monging. We buy a CD of the music they were playing as they had some sick mixes although I wonder if it will sound good when not stoned.
Eventually we re-emerge out into the sunshine and it’s not long before I manage to drop my phone over a high wall into some stinging nettles. I don’t trust myself to jump in my weedy state so have to walk a long way around, climb over a high, wobbly gate and sneak round into someone’s garden but I get the phone. Finally we wind up at the castle which has a number of impressive squares and buildings, not least the cathedral, and doubles as a great viewpoint over Prague.
We head back down into town, still weedy and very tired as we have walked a LOT today. It takes a while but we make it home and sleep for an hour. After this Arby and me shower and meet two Australian guys who grow their own weed and are the biggest potheads I’ve ever met, knowing seemingly every strain in Amsterdam, claiming to smoke 14g a day, and sharing a lot of their substancias with us. We decide to go to Karlovy Lazne, Prague’s ‘superclub’ with five floors. I only locate 4 but I’m just so stoned it doesn’t take me long to lose the others at which point I spend the next 2 hours sitting dazedly on a balcony watching the old, suicidal-looking DJ and the dancers below. I could swear that most Czechs cannot dance. At 3am I leave and take a scenic route home, returning at 4.
Prague to Krakow
Take a morning train into Poland before changing to a Communist-era sweatbox in Katowice. The toilet is just a pipe down to the ground. Krak looks even worse than the other shitholes we’ve visited but it’s actually quite pretty around the centre.
We ask for directions and the guy actually walks us to our hostel which gives a nice first impression of Poland. The hostel is in a good location about 10 minutes walk from the city centre and we’ve got a private room for 9 euros a night, not too shabby. Only problem is the sweltering heat 24/7, just lying on the bed leaves a film of sweat all over you. We check out the main square where there’s some strange werewolf-based performance going on, and eat a good quality Italian meal, plus drinks, for about £6. We meander round the square and back to the hostel.
We get up and head to the bus station to visit Auschwitz, but the hostel has given us the wrong location so we spend 30 minutes searching fruitlessly. When we eventually reach the station we buy our tickets. But when we head downstairs to our bus 5 minutes before departure, it’s already packed full, and leaves. After an unsuccessful complaint at the desk we resign ourselves to waiting half an hour for the next one, which we have to negotiate our way onto.
Auschwitz itself is a moving experience. First we visit Birkenau because the main museum is free after 3pm. It is strange imagining the Nazi soldiers would have herded prisoners around on this very ground. But the best part is the main museum. It explained to us the history of how Poland was brutally occupied in WW2; you walked round an incineration chamber and shooting wall; and there was a corridor maybe 10m long where the walls on either side were piled high with thousands and thousands of pairs of shoes belonging to prisoners. This experience gave a horrible sense of the magnitude and severity of the Nazi regime which left us feeling numb and sorrowful, almost stoned as well. It was a powerful feeling.
The mood lifted as we returned to the Krak and marvelled at 500ml, 9% beer for about 40p. Ridiculous. We make a belated decision to go out, and after Arby has to change out of his shorts, which apparently is the hip thing to wear in London, but not Krakow, we go to a club called Coco. There are a fair few girls, and we don’t scare anyone off which is good, but at the same time I’m unable to actually approach any for a dance, and by 3am I’ve probably missed 2 or 3 good opportunities. Arby pulls for a bit. Right at the end, I somewhat desperately try latching on to a girl and am immediately rejected. Oops. I slink home.
It’s a late start to our 2nd day in Poland, and after breakfast we head into town. Chimp is really upset because we laugh at some of the things he says and doesn’t really talk to us. But we thaw out after a couple of hours as we head to the castle which has some nice views over the city. And the restaurant there has good meals for £3 which, considering this is a major tourist attraction, is just amazing. We return to the hostel for a bit then go back to the castle for tea but it’s closed, so we settle on KFC which is only £3.50 for a filling meal. Unfortunately it starts to rain so instead of frolicking in the fountains we make our way back. Everyone’s tired so there’s no complaint about the early night. Anyway we have an early train to catch.
Krakow to Budapest
We awake and half five and check out. We arrive at the station only to find our train doesn’t seem to exist and have to catch a slightly later one which luckily manages to make it in time for our connection. In total we spend 9 hours on the train and it’s 6pm by the time we reach our hostel.
The last leg of my journey we wander around and down to the stunning riverside which is brimming with bridges and landmarks. But Gian is pining over Satya and Arby over the receptionist in Krakow so both are basically suicidal. We’re also all so very tired so we grab some grub before an early night. I only have two more full days at this point so I’m really looking to frolic and enjoy them. Instead we listen to James Blunt’s moving debut album Back to Bedlam in its’ entirety in the dark and cry ourselves to sleep.
We have a lie-in to help recover and so get up at 12, before going on a walking tour which is pretty informative and takes us up to the castle with a great view over the Pest side of the city. By sheer coincidence we are on the same tour as some girls we sat next to on the train, and we just about manage to recognize them although we’re not sure. We run without tipping and head back to the hostel. But on the way back we see some small kids playing footy so ask to join in. The next hour passes in a blissful, sweaty blur or gypsy football and dancing, although we always keep one eye on our belongings.
We bid farewell to the gypsies and make our way back. After a shower we get tea and a £1 bottle of wine but it has a cork so we have to go get my Swiss army knife. We hear some girls pre-lashing in the kitchen and they turn out to be the 4 most up for it girls we’ve ever met. Arby and Gian’s plan for a light night goes out the window as we are pressured into buying more beer and get served a lot of Frutsch in reception. The girls are nice and friendly and it quickly becomes apparent that we can go as far as we want to with these girls, who are Irish. Gian pimps out the one with a boyfriend who kisses me and Arb. I get with one of them, but while taking a short break to look after Gian, who by this point is well and truly bladdered, she starts crying which is like a herbicide to our blossoming relationship. To this day I still don’t know what set her off. Meanwhile Arby, who on his birthday has shotgunned the fittest one, gets his willy wet (and also bloody).The plan to go to a boat party never materialises as we don’t even make it 100m from the hostel. Classic night.
We wake on what is my last full day of the trip and walk over to Heroes Square, along the Andrassy Avenue, the “Hungarian Champs-Elysees”. The square has a tower reminiscent of Trafalgar Square but this one is surrounded by 7 guys on horses. We sit for a while and watch a dude who is amazing on his BMX.
After that we head into the park and after inquiring about renting a little car go for a cheaper boat instead and row that for half an hour. We walk back along Andrassy and through the Jewish district, past the 2nd biggest synagogue in the world. I’m really tired at this point so spend 2 hours resting. We see the gypsy kids again and then go out for some Goulash in a nice restaurant. We go get some wine and on the way back a Libyan guy starts talking to us, who also happens to be a drug dealer so Arby buys a gram of weed off him, it’s a small gram to say the least but Arby still smokes it all. We get on it in the kitchen with some Belgians, Irish lads and eventually the Irish girls too, before a guy from the hostel, Valentin, leads us to a club which is quite big. Then purely by coincidence we see the Dutch girls, who also happen to know the Irish girls. It’s just such a coincidence! Dance for a bit and then head home.
I’m saddened to wake on my last day, but at the same time I’m happy with the adventure and memories from the last 15 days. We check out of the hostel, and walk over to Gellert Hill which admittedly I did underestimate the size of, it takes a while to reach the summit with the statue and I’m sweating. I don’t spend very long at the top but we get a photo, and then since I’m in a bit of rush we say our goodbyes right there as I make my way down through the woods, and as I head back to the hostel I get that familiar feeling of something coming to an end.
I end up being really early for my flight but the airport is very nice and modern. Back in England, I catch the coach to London, then to Cheltenham. I walk home from Royal Well and my adventure is officially over at 3am. It hasn’t exactly been relaxing but it has been an incredible experience, full of substances, history, new people, and just general life. I feel like I’ve got to know not only the world but also the human condition a lot better, which I would say is priceless.
This is the rawest video y’all ever seen.
He is off the motherfucking chain.