Sunday, December 04, 2005

Pachty hard in Glesgey







"So", said the Lady. "I've got my tickets for Faithless and the Chemical Brothers next weekend in Glasgow. Now I've got to find somewhere to sleep." And I thought "I know people in Glasgow, I shall ask them." A little later I thought "I like the people in Glasgow. I should just come along and see them". To be honest, it took me quite a while to figure that out, but I didn't want to come along to the concerts (the lady mocking me for saying "sorry, not my cup of tee", here it goes in German, just as true and better in sound: "Des is net mein Ding, Junge, Vadder echt net. Wenn ich ehrlich bin, wa, dann mag ich am liebsten schoene leckere gute Musik, so richtig mit Melodie und richtig schoen gut, Junge, wa. Vadder..." sorry, I'm losing it ... where was I? Oh, yes, first I have to close the brackets:...)Anyway I thought I might as well come along and hang out with the boys while the Rach is bouncing away in the SECC. A little later all was arranged and we were on the bus to Glasgow. We bought some booze on arrival and took it to Renfrew Street, where we were served susage stew by the boys. I was at least, cause the Lady had to be off to the SECC before dinner was ready, muhuhaa-a. Jamie, the Kristian-man, Scottie (the Aussie! isn't that weird), Nick and meself were then chilling to the sweet and gentle sound of beer cans opening and Jamie's band's new record (Uncle John and White Lock, the new recors out on monday!). After the boys had loudly, clearly and repeatedly shunned the bottle of cider we had brought along (to the effect that it now sits in my fridge, haehaehae), I was told what the evening had in store for us. Following the inspiration of the poster in the kitchen we did the Dude, his Dudeness or, if you prefer, il Duderino and went BOWLING!!! It was a horrible place with ninetees Mucke of the rotten kind and lighting in un-be-liiievable colours. Plus I am totally crap at bowling but I had a hell of a time with the boys and their about 20 friends who all had names they didn't hesitate to tell me (I remeber ganze 2!) and welcomed me in their midst as if I had always been there. Maybe they're just on drugs all the time and really did think I had always been there...hm. No, I don't think so. Rachel joined us at about the time the DJ started playing spicegirls and the like, carefully feeling his way up to Duran Duran where he comfortably remained throughout the rest of the evening, which wasn't that long as the place closes at midnight. The whole gang trooped (is that a verb? Well, it is now.) to the Art School, where we listened to drum and base. I wasn't really in the mood to dance, as I couldn't find the cloakroom, thus wearing my turtleneck jumper and skijacket in a crowded club and also this is where the saying with the cup and the tee comes is again. I bereft Kristiano of his key before he had the opportunity to smoke a hundred joints and abuse a large range of chemical drugs and contently went up the street to our residence. As I had promised Kristian to let him in on his arrival there, I couldn't really fall asleep, kept on getting up all the time because I had thought I had heard him coming home (his flat has no buzzer, you see) and only really was in a phase of the deepest sleep hours later...when the boy actually came home and desired to be let in. Rachel had to wake me up, because I really really didn't hear anything and apparently I missed quite a show, starring Kristain Emans outside the door and shouting through the letter box "Scooottie, let me iiiiiiin...the Germans took my keeeeeeey...I can't enter my own flaaaaat..." and so on. I finally woke up and opened the door, and boy, was he glad to get in. He's normally very shy and not a physical contact kind of person, but chemicals and desparation can just screw a man's hugging habits up. I'm glad I didn't suffocate. He also brought the whole gang along, but as he is a very considerate man, drugs or no, he all took them downstairs to his room with him as we were sleeping in the living room. The night started with Rachel in the armchair, me on the couch and our cloths on the short couch and ended with me on my camping mat on the floor, Rachel on the short couch and Nick and his skateboard (!) on what had formerly been MY couch. Deep in the night (or rather early in the morning) I awoke when Nick was shoving his board under my feet and busying around on the couch table. I asked him "what are YOU up to?" and got the reply "I was just about to ask you the same thing". "???", I said, "I'm sleeping here!! At least I'm trying to!". He muttered something incomprehensable and then proceeded to try and lie down on the couch next to me. I tried to convince him not to do so.
Me: "Nick...go away!"
Nick: "You serious?"
Me: "Go away!"
Nick: "Honestly?"
Me: "Go! away!"
Nick: "Go away?"
Me: "Goaway!"
Nick: "Goaway??"
Me: "Goaway!"
(pause)
Nick: "Naaah, I'm not listening..."
Hooraaaaay for the happy pills he must have taken. He can't remember anything and I am actually thinking of blackmailing him. I just have to make up a story...
Anyway I eventually fled the scene and went to sleep on the floor, which was probably better for my back anyway.
We had bacon sandwiches for breakfast (God almighty, what an invaluable piece of information!)and then went on a sightseeing tour. Kelvingrove Park, University building, Huntarian Art Gallery and Macintosh House. But as we were a little tired after the previous night, our higlight was a meal in the local chip shop.
That evening Rach went to see Faithless while Jamie, Nick and I went to the other Nick's place for a poker night (Kristian for some reason being too tired to even get up from his couch). I met Nick on the street coincidentally (Ichso "Hey, mister Nick!" Erso "bloody hell!!!") and he assured me that poker skills were not essential as nobody had any. It was a good poker night with homemade indian food (gee, can that boy cook), lots of people (dougie was there of course and Eoghan the architect came around, too), a fridge full of beer and an episode of "Family guy" on DVD. The only thing missing to make it a perfect poker night was anybody actually playing a card game... but that didn't matter. Chilling and chatting war angesagt and I invited lots of people to both Edinburgh and Berlin. Nick told us the story of the King's dochtir and the Queen's dochtir and the Well at the End of the World in exquisite Highland Scots; me heid is still buzzing! We finally went home to have a good night's sleep. At some point during the weekend I also bought a jumper and we met Sietzke and her sister in the shop next door, but I cannae really remember when that was.
Anyway it was a brilliant weekend and I even did quite a big deal of preparation for tomorrow already.
The sun was shining on our way home, illuminating this beauty of a country in a way I almost had to cry.
Life is geat.
The world is a good place.

7 comments:

SchnautzeJunge said...

Das erklärt, warum Du gestern so einsilbig warst.

scotspotter said...

wiejetz?

psychorach said...

Was that a superb week end or what??? Chemicals, Faitheless & the boys on chemicals!!!!

animaldelmar said...

fleggo, du ruinierst mich. diesen eintrag vollstaendig in einem internetcafe zu lesen, ist unmoeglich. auch wenn das internetcafe mit zwei beinen im pazifischen ozean steht. haehae. schulligung. schuess.

scotspotter said...

Arrrghhhhh. DU musst auch schon sagen, wie's dir geht, Frau. Denn frei nach David Bowie bedeutet ein Eintrag mit deinem Blognamen noch lange nicht, dass du noch lebst.
der Eintrag ist wirklich in seinen Ausmasen ein bisschen episch geworden, aber nur so passt er zu dem Wochenende, haehaehae!

animaldelmar said...

es geht gut, mir und dem grossen. wir sind in sydney gelandet, welches aussieht wie eine gruene landscholle mit puppenhaeuschen von oben. ansonsten ist es recht frueh am morgen, wir haben gerade die nachricht von eriks haus bekommen, dass wir doch kein zimmer kriegen, was buddy beschissen fand und ich auch, aber vielleicht nicht so heftig ausdruecken wollte. thailand war voll und heiss und gut. fotos und text gibt es ab heute nachmittag. kuesse, m

fr fleck, du altes Geloet. endlich geht es mir mal so richtig gut. die letzten 26 Jahre waren ja mehr so bedrueckt. jetzt, wo aber mal eben die ganze alte Erdekugel zwischen uns liegt, lichtet sich der Schatten und das Leben macht wieder Spass.
Ach, du wolltest was nettes lesen? Hast du das wirklich erwartet? armes Maedschen.
Fetten Knutsch vom Buddy

scotspotter said...

Mein Freund sagt: "Aha. Der dumme H****sohn...".
Ich sage: Aha. Frau Zwilling, du Königin des Palmenstrandes, ich will auch in Sydney sein, ich schlaf auch unter der Brücke.
Wie ihr seht, habe ich Umlaute, ich befinde mich in heimatlichen Gefüllten und fahre morgen wieder ins Edinbüro.
Herr Görgens , the King Kong of Blogtotalversager, soll sich lieber erstmal die Schäbigleit vom Leibe waschen, bevor er wieder Worte an mich richtet!
Ich gucke alle Bremen-Spiele. Und du nicht.