24 hr drinking people

[Jimmy Nail]

from theburglarsdog.com
funny and true....

From November 2005, the government proposes to bring the country into line with continental habits by allowing twenty-four hour drinking in England's pubs and bars. New laws will be introduced that they say will reduce binge-drinking and crime. In a frank report, The Burglar's Dog give their opinions.

24 hour drinking, for fuck's sake. Whose genius idea was that, then? Listen, you can't get people to behave in a more European manner just by changing the opening times. Allowing people to drink to continental hours doesn't make them continental drinkers any more than painting my sweaty cock bright red makes it taste like a strawberry Mivvi.


Why? Because the English are fucking pigs, that's why. Look at us, man. Pathetic, boorish, arrogant, violent meatheads, still living on the glories of two world wars (which the Yanks bailed us out of, hence the historical and financial debt to the cunts and the embarrassing government toadying seen ever since) and one World Cup. We're a drunken mess of xenophobia and intolerance dressed up as patriotism, when the only thing we're now famous for is how badly we behave when we're on the pop. Britain: once at the forefront of education, engineering, social reform and literature; now the source of Celebrity Love Island and the bull-necked, chair-throwing, racist moron. And why do these arseholes fight? Because we've got nothing to believe in, and no worthwhile causes to struggle for. We're a state-pampered, media-stupified disgrace of a nation, and we're a global laughing stock. We drink because we're too stupid to be ashamed, and because our archaic laws mean that suicide is still something you "commit" rather than a cause for celebration. And the idiot powers-that-be want to give us MORE time to swill beer down our hickey-strewn necks? Ridiculous.

We simply don't know how to behave when we're drinking. Take, for example, the English approach to summer beers. We wait all year, through pissing rain and biting wind, for that one day when we can all sit outside the bar in the sunshine and have a nice few pints. Lovely, eh? Except being, as we are, so uptight, paranoid and downright belligerent, every single longed-for afternoon ends up in exactly the same depressing way: knee-deep in broken glass and vomit. It's a fact and you fucking know it is. We should be gassed, the whole lot of us.

People often gripe about the quality of the product served in this country's bars. They say, Why is British beer like piss? Because we simply can't be trusted with export strength, I'm afraid. It's also why our beer pumps are so arthritically slow compared to those of our foreign counterparts: anything to stick the brakes on our rampaging dipsomania.

Our city streets are like battlefields, our doorways like brothels and our third world public transport system a virtual no-go area after 11pm. Our values have deteriorated beyond repair, our powers of reason take a backseat to our skills with the broken bottle, and sexual equality now means that women are free to be just as drunk, tattooed and stupid as men. Congratulations, girls: we bet you feel really emancipated. Emmeline Pankhurst must be spinning like a lathe in her wooden box.

Speaking earlier of public transport, how are people going to get home from their post-midnight drinking sprees? Are the buses and trains going to be there to cater? Don't think so, somehow. What we'll get is more violence over a longer period of time in the taxi queues, and more dubious "cabbies" wapping it up legless teenagers in lieu of their fare.

Consider this: our views are based on life in the metropolitan hotspot of Newcastle upon Tyne, a veritable runner up in the Capital of Culture race no less. Imagine the scenes in fucking Skegness or Walsall or somewhere like that. Think of the carnage in Middlesbrough or some other polluted provincial backwater. We'd be out of there on the first bus to Sodom & Gomorrah, forget the Day Return.

And moving away from the city centre bars to the neighbourhood pubs, how is extending the opening hours going to help there? Think of the poor neighbours of these greedy establishments and the endless cycle of misery they'll have to endure on account of a few lairy fuckheads. It's like this: some inconsiderate drunken oaf wakes you up at stupid o'clock with their "amusing" antics; you get up the next day so full of piss and vinegar that you need a session on the lash to calm you down; still angry, tired and bitter at the end of the night, you go out of your way to ruin some other fucker's sleep in retaliation. And on it goes. Don't try to tell us it won't happen, because it will. We're the English, remember. We're small minded, petty and vindictive and we always will be. It's what made Britain Great.

So what can be done about the spiralling alcohol-related crime rate? What type of punishment would restore even a modicum of sanity to our piss-flooded streets? Thinking of the greater good of the nation, we propose that the courts adopt the three-strikes-and-out system, as some American states have (and why not, since we're practically chugging on Yankee cum already, any way Uncle Sam wants to spurt it). We believe the tariff should be something like this:

First offence - A hefty fine
Second offence - A custodial sentence
Third offence - You get the fucking chair

Unlimited drinking, or even staggered pub closing times, is a recipe for disaster, man. Who the fuck wants to hear the sound of bellowing, of breaking glass and of overpriced trainer on skull all through the night? Far better for the rozzers to round the drunks up at a pre-determined closing time, and shepherd them away to their destinations before hell breaks loose. And if any wiseguy wants to act the punk, or if any squealing scrubbers fancy a bit of hair pulling, then a swift baton charge should restore order. Tool up Plod, if necessary. Have water cannon at each end of the Bigg Market. Legalise summary execution for pissing in the street.

24 hour drinking will not lead to a more respectful culture. People will not sit chatting in cafes until the wee small hours before going home to ruffle their kids' hair and drift off to the land of Nod dreaming about fluffy kittens. Standards of morality and education have slipped so far that there simply will never be another generation of free-thinking barflies, chronicling the human condition over a whiskey chaser.

Someone in the corridors of power is going to have to realise that the days of polite gentleman's clubs and the clack of leather on willow on the village green are long gone, and the age of borderline anarchy is upon us. Take a look for yourself. Drive around any estate in any town you care to choose, and you'll see whole communities overrun and terrorised by scum, all fuelled by economy lager and cheap pissy cider. Society is a fucking joke that has long since ceased to be amusing, and it cannot be allowed to slip further into the mire for the sake of a few extra quid in alcohol tax. We suggest you lobby your MP (that's a link) to get the fuckers told.

We will, and so should you. Do it now before it's too late.

[Dave w.]

this post has put this forum back on the list of websites i can't access at work. thanks very much. can i borrow your broom when you're finished with it?

[Jimmy Nail]

Get back to work you lazy cunt!

[Hew]

crocodile shoes was shit
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