I'll watch that. I might even go to Southampton. Me festival days are over though. But I will be at Tollpuddle. I couldn't last year, bit of a wobbler, but change of subject....
I've been staying in a mates flat. Last week or so, loads of bizzies have been up and down, parked off up the street and walking up and down. Obviously something was going on.
There's a little gang of plonkies live in the flats next door. It's two blocks of six flats. You'll all know the type, from the 50's on housing estates all over. It's not the Taj Mahal, but it's alright, quiet, no problems, hardly ever see anyone. Considering their drunks the little gang next door are okay and really quiet. Hardly ever blast the music, turn it off by 8 when they do. I don't mind, they play some good stuff, better than the pop shite the kids upstairs play.
One got me van going in the winter when i couldn't. I got him 6 cans of export. I only mention it cos the lad was dead gratful and shocked. So, in a nutshell, they're alright, no problem and I hardly ever see or hear them. Saturday night, 4 bizzy cars and a van screeched to a halt outside. A gang of Robo Cop look alikes, dived out the van screaming. One had the big red key thing with him, twatted the entrance door of the flats in, twatted two doors in inside the block. God only knows how much it cost. They'll have got no more than a few bottles of Aldi cider and maybe a thimble full of drugs.
Them plonkies are fucked now. They'll be all over the telly and paper down here, like Pablo Escobar has been captured. They'll lose their gaffs and benefits. The homeless shelter has been done away with down here. They are running the homeless out of town. Fuck knows what will happen to this little gang. Loads of bizzies marched them out the flats, handcuffed with coats over their heads. Really pathetic sight. They even took the little aul fella that can barely walk.
One fella charged in with that dog catching loop on a stick. He came out dragging the ancient, scabby aul mutt along with it. Made up with himself. He kept marching up and down, whistling. All the neighbours were out, or hanging out their windows. People and kids had stopped in the street to watch. Every time Whistler marched past, I whistled after him. You'd have had to see it but it was funny. He was going nuts, trying not to show it, kept spinning round trying to catch who was whistling, loads of kids were laughing. And it was funny but them poor bastards next door haven't been seen since. They must have kept them in to get them into court tomorrow. Poor bloody people, it's probably the last room of their own they'll have in awhile.
War on drugs my arse. Poor bastards, being picked on and used to justify it. Why not grab Gideon when he's sitting there spaced out on the front bench.
