October 26, 2004

Thank God...

...that I don't live in Hackney anymore. My girlfriend and I luckily moved away from that cess-pool of inhuman scuzziness over a year ago now, and honestly haven't looked back, other than to poke fun at all the sad cases who splash out +£200,000 for a dodgy one-bed flat there because it's a 'trendy, up and coming borough'. Or to be constantly amazed that we actually managed to survive there for as long as we did. Thirteen months to be exact. If you're reading this Brass Goods Man (description = unhygeinic rat-like creature who hung around underneath our flat all the time sneering at people telling him to sod off they don't want to buy a replica horseshoe coat hook whilst selling crappy old rubbish that had fallen off the back of a particularly arseholed van) have a wash. Please.

Hackney is renowned as the place where the longest seige (you know, guns, hostages, snipers - lots of fun basically) in British history took place. Three and a bit weeks I think it was. The main seigist (?) eventually brought the proceedings to a close in style. The police had turned off all the gas and electrics going into the building, so in an attempt to try and keep warm he set fire to some of the furniture. He got warm alright. Unfortunately for him, he also managed to burn the building down with him in it. He was definitely from Hackney. And it was right round the corner from where we lived.
While we lived there.

This gives you an idea of the general appearance of beautiful Hackney.

Nice eh? Really pleasing to the eye. Of course it's not all car washes. There's also buses.

Glorious, oh yes!

Well, my brother pointed me in the direction of a quality website that has a
guided tour of Hackney on it. It's very detailed and thorough, so set a good amount of time aside to go through it. It's also bloody hilarious and should be used by Hackney Council as a method of getting more loonies, madmen and serial killers to live there and scare away all the stylish twats with too much money (who are much harder on the eye that all the purple-faced winos who hang out in the park behind HSBC!). So there.

Watched a brilliant film last night called Touching The Void. If you get the chance to watch it, watch it. It's an utterly brilliant real-life documentary about a couple of lads who went to climb a humungous (is that how you spell it?) mountain in the Andes. And I'm pretty sure they wished now that they hadn't bothered. But blimey, it really boggles your brain to see how much the human mind and body can take. I also know now that I NEVER NEVER NEVER want to go mountain-climbing on anything bigger than a compost heap. Which isn't really a mountain, but you know what I mean. Ever.

Right, I have to now stick my head in a bucket.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oi! Brass goods man here. I know who you are. You are that fucker with the paper aeroplanes. I'm gonna fuckin get ya. I'm not scared of you. You just watch out.

2:25 pm  
Blogger Davida said...

I live at the foot of the Rockies and every year there are a few brave and foolish people who think they are going to go mountain climbing without experience and without gear. Last year, they had to rescue a woman who decided to climb while wearing HIGH HEELED SHOES, daisy dukes, and a little tee-top. Of course, it got cold, and she was stuck there, with bleeding feet and frostbitten nipples, until they could find her silly ass.
I lived in Philadelphia for most of my life before moving to Colorado. I think that your Brass Goods man has relatives that hang out on Spruce Street trying to sell used athletic shoes.........

9:01 am  

Post a Comment

<< Home