Monday 10 November 2008

London Pride

Oi! How's it going, me old china? And how's the trouble and strife?
Blimey, you've got yourself a good bird, by the sounds of it.
Yup, I'm all on me Jack tonight. I'll have a bitter and a whisky, if that's awright. Bloody 'ell, I've got some daily mail for you! Pour me that gay and listen up. What I'm about to tell you will make your hairs stand up on end.
Do you remember me bricks and mortar, cute little London lassie? She used to go out with that Bill O'Randy, you know, that complete James Blunt you threw out last year because he was hustling in the loo? They were quite serious, about to get cash and carried, if you're asking me.
I think he was a tea-leaf too, you know, always managed to get a five finger discount on anything. I saw him on a car boot sale once, trying to get rid of his loot. All sorts of vintage, design and fad fashion stuff. He would sell you Gucci sunglasses, a pair of Hollisters and what not for a tenner. Every Saturday the place's full of punters. I never bought anything from him, though. Nah, I don't trust that lad an inch, and the way I see it, the receiver is as bad as the babbling brook.
Anyway, you can imagine I was pleased as pie when Jess dumped him. She was way out of his league, you know, and I didn't like the way he pushed her around, the randy bugger.
She caught him in the act one night when he was on town with his lads, looking to pull crumpet. She met his friends in this club, didn't expect them to be there, but since they were, she went looking for Bill. Guess where she found him... He was having it off in the bog with some cum dumpster! And you won't Adam and Eve what he said...When the cat's away, the mice will play! I promised myself, if I see that geezer again, he can expect my Oliver Twist up his loaf. After that trick he pulled my Jess, it's no more mister Nice Guy!
As I was saying, she used to live with him in this bedsit in central London. Obviously she moved back in with her dad that very night. The poor gall was devastated. Now, I'm having the time of my life, having my bricks by my side again, even though we're living cheek by jowl. But I think I'm driving her up the wall.
This was three weeks ago, and the first days she just lay on her old bed, weeping and sleeping. And then one day, snap, she got on the dog and called an old friend, Melvin. She's known him since primary school. He's a total ginger beer, but he can always cheer her up. That chap's the dog's bollocks, if you know what I mean, the best bit of the beast, very lickable.
I haven't seen her shed a tear since she called him. In fact, I've hardly seen her at all, 'cause she's out mostly. Apparently she took up swimming again. She hadn't been in pool since she met Bill, but she started exercising like a bitch and yesterday she entered the first competition.
It was a men's team, but two lads were injured during water polo, and there was only one geezer on the bench. With one man short they wouldn't stand a chance at the Regional Championship, so the jury allowed them to have a female stand-in. This competition was cocks on the block for the team, so they made a bet that the best swimmer would shave his loaf, as a proof of aerodynamics, and all would buy him booze for the rest of the season. Obviously, this was just a bet for the geezers, nobody thought they would be beaten by a gall that only started training two weeks earlier.
Anyway, I drove her to Greenwich, and promised to support her. When she was younger I loved to take her to the pool, with all that wet eye candy about, but as I said, me Jess was the only gall that day. I see why Melvin was so eager to go, but I myself was bored stiff in no time. And you know what it's like in those pools, hot and damp, and these championships take ages. So I dozed off immediately, and when I woke up she still wasn't on. By that time I got the munchies, but I didn't want to miss her big moment. For half an hour nothing happened, but I was Hank bloody Marvin. Then they announced a break. I decided Jess wouldn't mind if I popped by at the local to get a bite to eat, so I walked down the first field of wheat and found myself a proper pub. I ordered some pork scratchings and a shandy to flush 'em down, when I saw him again. What better door to emerge from than the gents, I'm asking you.
'Hello there, mad lad,' he said, 'mind if I have a bite?'
'You wanker,' I said, 'how dare you call me dad!' and smashed his north and south and splashed his scotch in his wide open eyes before he knew what was happening. But then again, O'Randy wouldn't know his arse from his elbow, if you're asking me. Blimey, I taught him how to read and write 'till the bouncer put paid to it and threw me out of the rub-a-dub.
I hurried back to the pool, but they wouldn't let me in because I had blood all over my shirt. I waited outside and it seemed to take ages, when I finally saw the first visitors coming out. Then there were some sulky guys with Adidas bags, the losers, I presumed, and finally, there she was.
At first I only recognized Melvin, who was walking beside her, and then it hit me. She was all lo and behold: they shaved her, all of her beautiful barnet was gone! I was so fucking proud, but the looks of her were killing me. All I could say was: 'But you're my little gall, you're my little gall,' and the bloody tears were running down my face. That's my Jess, me old china, and she bloody beat 'em all.
I need another bevvy now. Can I have a pint of London Pride?

1 comment:

  1. The exercise was:
    Write a first person narrative in an uneducated prose, using plenty of collocations and cliches to characterise the teller, or in eloquent prose, which employs a range of rhetorical devices to allow the teller to show of his/her education.