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Scouse bird with a vodka dependency and an acute sense of social observation. Always self deprecating, always blunt. Follow me on twitter WARNING: Non-scousers may not understand language of this blog.
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Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Get this scouser off my motherfuckin train!

Lying in bed with @maverick85p last weekend I had the devestating bombshell dropped that @LazzyMash (the artist formerly known as @OMGitsLambo) was fuckin off to Spain for 5 months so go and soak up some sun and STD's. The little tit. No sooner had he entered my life as he was fuckin off and leaving me, he's like the fit little brother I never had. Even though I have a little brother I can't really comment on his fitness cos that would just be weird. And illegal.

I knew I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't see his cheeky little face one last time so a few 'quiet' drinks one night was deffo on the cards. Quiet. Yeah alright. So I bloranged up on Tuesday night, lashed me rollers in after Zumba on Wednesday and I was all set to go.

Being the classy high maintenance WAG that I am we decided to meet in the Ship & Mitre for a few Cherry Bombs (a drink of my own invention involving cherry beer and handbagvodka) where a lad @susielovesvodka had been texting also decided to meet us. Well worra bellend he was. I instantly hated him anyway cos he's messed her about a bit and that's strike number 1. Strike 2 was he was 30 odd and terminally unemployed. Strike 3 was that he'd turned up only because SHE offered to buy HIM a drink and he actually asked her for it and finally strike 4 was he was 30 ODD and turned up in cropped skater jeans and hi tops. Fuck off mate. Seriously grow the fuck up. His mate was so scouse it seemed like it hurt to talk like "Arrrr meeeet gerron me traackeeee there meeeeet" while squinting with a pained expression.

I got rid of Hi Top Wanker in the most obviosuly arseholey way I could think of, " So what are you up to tonight then?"

"Oh yano just seein where the night takes me, where are you going?"

"Oh WE'RE gettin off in a minute, hope you have a good night like."

"I get the impression you don't want me to come."


See ya mate don't wanna be ya. Sometimes that girl needs to be cockblocked for her own 

We fucked off to Baa Bar on Hardman Street, downed a few cheeky Baa Bakewells - sometimes I love gettin a cough cos I have the medicine out of a shot glass an pretend it's a bakewell. Yessss! We put in a few requests, 'The Lonely Island - I'm on a boat' naturally and then I embarrassed LazzyMash & SusieLovesVodka by doing the stripper-esque Zumba routine to Loosen Up My Buttons. Cos that's how I roll. Norassed.

After stumbling down to Mojo for a swift whiskey and lemo I had to get off cos I had a business trip in the manana. cos I'm proper dead important like. So I left Susie out with LazzyMash and heard the next morning she'd been crying in the taxi on the way home cos he was leaving. She's met him....twice. Gotta love that girl after a vodka like.

I got up the next morning and braced myself for a trip outside of the fair city of Liverpool cos I just knew I'd be seeing some fuckin sights. I was not disappointed. The journey down there was pretty unremarkable, I was still fucked so I barely paid attention - I just got to the office in Middlesborough, did what I had to do then fucked off the hotel to order my weight in free room service and kip. I love free shit.

The train journey home the next morning went via York, Leeds and Manchester. It was like goin on Wool Safari.

I knew it was gonna be a fucker of a journey. I was sat with the girl from work in a table seat cos I needed the sly phone charger under the table seein as the iphone holds charge like a post menopausal woman holds her piss. At York the woman who reserved the seat next to me got on and stood over me with a shitty attitude "That's MMMYYYYY seat." Yeh alright love chill the fuck out you can have the seat I just want the charger. She then proceeded to take out a leather document wallet, a highlighter, an iphone AND a blackberry. She took some papers out of the wallet and started highlighting shit to try and look important. It just made her look like a tit - especially as she seemed to completely miss the point of a highlighter. Now correct me if I'm wrong but to me the point of a highlighter is to highlight important points? Yes? She seemed to think it was for colouring in, she was highlighting every fuckin sentence and it was winding me up to death. I had proper train rage. I felt like grabbing the highlighter and scribbling all over her grid and screaming, "WHY DON'T WE JUST AGREE THE WHOLE THING IS IMPORTANT LOVE???". I mean she highlighted bullet points.....not even the point the bullet was in itself highlighting, I mean the actual dot. Get a grip love, assess your life.

I tried looking away but on the other side of me was a disgusting student wearing toms and elasticated chinos. I didn't look up any further in case he was wearing a cleavage top. I wouldn't've been able to take it. 

Fortunately the student got off at the next stop (Highlighter bitch was in it for the long haul unfortunately) only to be replaced by some hippy middle class family. I mean the kids (aged roughly 7)  were dressed in what looked like fair trade clothing and straw trilbys and scranning on carrots and houmous. I mean when I was that age it was all about the E numbers - don't push me push a push pop an all that shit. I decided to 'get away from it all' and go the first class bogs for a break. 

It was one of these tilting trains and I felt like I'd downed my entire nights allocation of handbag vodka as I lurched down the aisle. I nearly landed in some scousers lads lap (identifiable by his head to toe grey trackie) which would have been better than that time I was on the way back from London and stood on some womans foot on the way to the bog an then actually sat in her lap on the way back. Soz aba me love. Clearly me and trains don't mix.

We changed at Manchester and I felt like the whole trip was worth it when we saw these two fitties. I don't know what I was more jealous of, the streaky St Moriz that hadn't been rinsed off, the afro hair extensions or the baby pink lippy that came free in Sugar magazine in 1998.

I'll leave you with that mentally scarring image.


@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs

 PS I did what any self respesting scouse bird would upon her return to Lime Street station. I'M BAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!