this mostly happened, and i wrote about it as it did cause i was all 'inspired' and whatnot. up to you to decide if you think i'm a pretentious wanker or not ;)
I'm in the toilet at another pre-drinks pissing away another rum and
coke. A rousing rendition of 'happy birthday' begins - it's always
some one's birthday - I don't join in.

I should at least try and get into the spirit of things now we're at
the event of the evening. I order vodka. £3.80 can fuck right off.
This'll be my last snifter and I'm gonna need to find something stiffer.

Poor stuff, Bournemouth.

A familiar scent drifts into my nose. Like tobacco with a bittersharp
edge. What fuckin' prick's toking weed, this is a no smoking area.

Drop something, don't even look at the symbol. Man, I'm fuckin' cool.

I'll gargle magic smart phrases with these gargoyles. Power struggles.
Growls at my jowls from these foul sour muggles, so I don't snag
huggles. It's all so unnecessary.

This is the advantage of living with a fittie making mittens, hopefully it's for the
shits and not kids she's knitting for.
You don't want to get fucked.
But fucked I am, so chronological order basically means nothing to me
right now.

At least one person iterates what we're all thinking, 'alright lads!'
he gets a bit irate, 'only birds piss about at the pisser. Fuckin',
come on!'

Vikki the fittie dares me to snog a fattie in return for a heathen heaving quickie.
Jokes, she's well fit. 'Fit?' I ask, 'she doesn't even FIT in her baggy
winter dress!' Sorry Vikki, too tricky.

Mate, I got a fuckin' abrupt little angle, date with bangles. Goes 'caw
blimey' like cockney seagulls. I'm not entirely sure why I think that
means something.

A kid asks for hydration like herpes doesn't happen. I send him off
with a splashing. He says I ain't so dashing, I says, mate, it ain't
fuckin' rationed, crash on over at the barzilla if you want your fill
in a similar, but not quite, fashion.
He looks confused. He must be deaf by now because I've said it loud enough.

This e I've taken better be top quality cause I don't yet feel it
kicking in.

I wonder if it could be so good that I'll be coming up some time next
week, mid-lecture. Yeahhhh bwoiiii!! Fuckin'! Narrative! Yeah! Teach me
the fuckin' hero's journey, biatches!

Oh. There it goes. Now I've got the feel of the schpiel, the real thing.

Gotta find that hotter kind of prime heiny. Ahh fuckit she's long gone
like a last harsh pass, the long one from the bong.

I've seen some of these people before.
'That girl's a prick but I'd still give her a thirsty session.'
'nah man, she's cool.'
'well she don't give a good first impression.'

A pile of stilletoes by a pillar though? How peculiar. Toes heal where
clothes don't I guess.

Well that was worth it, 20 minutes of buzz and now it's fading like
ultimately pathetic rainclouds. I hope this is the eye of the storm.
20 minutes at the top like Jade Goody til she dropped, and I ain't
talking pills, that lady was ill so it ain't cool to pull the piss even
though she made a mill... somehow.

I'm trying to spot my friends but the smoke machine isn't helping.
It's like I'm in a thundercloud, only the thunder sounds a bit better.
Actually, a lot better. Staying up late to listen to a storm coming in
is definitely for queers.

I go into a side room, half expecting to find someone. Who the fuck
would be in here anyway.

Some nutter asks me if I've got anything good. I tell him I ain't got
shite like a guy who got diarrhoea til he died. He looks upset. Cheer up lad, s'only a joke.

I chat at the bar to just any that's there. Guy springs into action,
'she's with me' I'm like 'yeah, I got a girlfriend, man. I don't wanna
fuck her she's fuckin' rough anyway.'

Ow, my eye.

Mmm. Time for a smoky.
A case of misspoken mistaken identity gets me talkin to this fella from
Middlesbrough. He thinks I've had a mission getting here from nearly
Wales, not knowing I've long since taken up residence down south.
Bleh, dry-mouth. I says to him it must not be a mission for him to
get anywhere cause he's from the middle. He says to me he's gotta go, gonna
take some more drugs. Fair enough I says.

Some racing raver says I'm racist. I'm like, hey, what's your drum n
basis?
It's that time of night. This place is full of girls who aren't
looking where they're Fuckin' going. Got me wondering if this night is
ever going to end or just stay in stasis watching this lot chew to tunes until they're faceless waste-heads.

Is for me, I'ma spliff n split.

I'm rolling and some chop line chappy comes over strolling telling me
the whole thing.
Oi. You. Not so hilarious.
Get out my face before I get nefarious.
Now, now, now, this is no place for irony.

I bump into my new mate Russel and it kicks off again. This night could
actually last forever, but I'm pretty sure that would be terrible.

This MC's either super skilled with his clicking tongue trends or he's just
making up nonsense. Ahhh well. All's well.

I lose Russel in the tussle of the last minute crush, but it's OK.
We'll all be in the same spot of bother in ten minutes. Outdoors
without our hella main fellas or umbrellas.

Mmm. Music.
I wish I was higher.

Actually, I kinda just want this to end, send me home. I've been fed
bedlam when I should been in bed like a lamb.
Time to peep sheep in my sleep, I think.

Taxi as it weeps for our departure. Aw, don't cry, Sky. We won't
forget tonight if we try.
But still, there's no time for chivalry as we jump into a yellow cab
at a red light.

Girl to my left tells me that Apparently the killer whale that's
(shocker) killed again, it's wrong what's happening to it. Like
slavery. Made to entertain when it shouldn't.
Well, I says,
Maybe we should let loose Robbie into the wild, he's had his time.
He asked us to let him entertain, but, yknow.

Bored.

'Out the taxi, son, you're holding up traffic.'
'Really? Cause I'm pretty sure we're the only car on the road.'
Sass is not often a welcome tip.

Fuckin', still 1.2 miles from home. Cheers Googlemaps.

Nice little place, but it ain't mine. They've been watching Style Wars?
Not quite as good as Star Wars, but at least they're well dressed.

It's walking time cause, Fuckme, I'm just saying what I see now.

Good thing I'm home alone now no work to be shown to the crowds.
Ugh. Fuck off brain.
(quibble, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 20:26, 8 replies)

*Clickity*
Very nicely told, Sir.

You are Jeff Noon, aicmfp
(MrOli is ugly, but in the morning you will be sober, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 21:34, closed)

Praise Indeed!
Love Vurt
( LemonEntryMyDearWatson This time, Moriarty, the hand is on the other foot, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 22:09, closed)

haha, well to be honest i'm surprised b3tans can actually be nice :)
haven't actually read any jeff noon, which is something i should clearly remedy, a quick google has definitely got my interest going!
would Vurt be your recommendation on a first buy?
(quibble, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 23:55, closed)

I can see why you might think that
There are a few around here who are quick to judge and think attack is the highest form of wit... but most of us are nice and just enjoy a bit of banter.

Vurt is probably my favourite, and is a full and very good story. Though Pixel Juice is a very close second... it's a set of short stories, all set in a world very close to "Vurt" (You'll see what I mean once you've read them)

Yeah, get Vurt first. Then Pixel Juice will give you hints about the back stories.
(MrOli is ugly, but in the morning you will be sober, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 9:05, closed)

HELLO UNITED

(nettestar meeow, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 23:20, closed)

tl; dr
and yes sir, you are.
(spaffwrap indulged his power socket fetish on, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 4:42, closed)

You are a pretentious wanker
but you manage to pull it off. Pun intended. I click thee.
(Falstaff's Spiritual Successor, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 11:14, closed)

yes ditto
Wouldn't have done the same but you kept me reading and I liked it.
( sanityclause is waiting until, Tue 21 Sep 2010, 15:38, closed)