Strangers in a foreign land...

Pove came up to see me in exile

he brought me a present! reading about irrelevant local crimes brought a tear to my eye

a buxom teen at work who loves me gave me some rock from Blackpool as a present as well

I just got a new t-shirt delivered that day...its proper spicy

the weather was terrible for hitting the razz

we waited for the bus and I got ahead of myself with a decent quality photo

I'd like to say that the weather is always like this, but its not. Its normally like Manchester, but that is hardly a complement

eventually we got to Elliotts in Prestwick. Its mint and a great scope, but I got scared about cracking my camera out. I'll brave it some other time

beyond Elliotts we tore into Flanagans

its a bit like the Faulkners, but instead of being full of mentally retarded scummers from Alty, its full of nutty jocks

guess what we were on?

well Pove was, I was being a mincer

taxi

awful smalltalk was had

this place is exactly like 24 hour party square in Torremolinos- full of slappers with clubs that are not open 24 hours.

we went to Club de Mar, also known by the locals as 'Club Too Far'

I kept my flash off for fear of looking like an English bastard but managed to take some nice shots

disco dave told me some good news about his future, but I cant put it on the blog cos its a secret

JD & carnage

it just played a load of cheesy dancetunes, so me and Pove drank heavily instead and avoided dancefloor carnage. Think we were scared

one of the doorman was stood on this box frantically looking left and right in the club. I think he was just leching though



the wheels were well off for me by this stage, Pove wasnt as bad though
I flipped onto vodka straight followed by a glass of water for some reason. Never a good time to hit it when you're on your arse AND in a round system with Mr Povey

he stuck to what he was good at, that is, basically anything you put in front of him that isnt lighter fluid or meths

ordering at the bar was ace cos I couldnt understand a word they were saying due to the music. So, I just shouted at them and then shrugged my shoulders when i got a response back in a coarse Scottish accent and shouted again until I got my order

dancefloor was a bit poonshy (new word picked up) and had the odd mature knocking aboot

the music was, as they say here...pisch

so off we went to our third club of the evening for Indie carnage

this is their Carling

I got chatting to some mad bird and managed to wear her coat for half the night. Then I was getting my sleaze on, she looked over my shoulder to spot her mother giving us both dirties

so I ran off for a bit and scoped at the bar before meeting her outside again. And getting shooed off like a pest by her mother. Again.

we didnt scarper far though. Only as far as Subway

Pove was absolutely dunted and didnt know what to get so he copied me. He seems to have learnt a trick that jobber loves to pull

footlong Subway Club. No peppers though, cos they're for mincers

hometime

when we were out of the taxi we discovered what 80s disco group Shalimar had been up to- setting up a care home

Pove got a smoke on, listened to tunes and told me of his current irons in the fire

I was still so done in that I forgot to put the flash on

then I fell asleep to the sound of Karl Pilkington

(End of part one. Part two to follow soon...)