Yes, Comrades
Well, I woke in a sleeping bag with icicles for feet. There was an ice cube next to me in the bag, I threw it on a fire and it farted. There was also a second sleeping bag which appeared to be empty. Got me bearings sorted, whipped out a smoke and a little Haddock face emerged from the pupa next to me. I fucking hate people who sleep like dogs, who wake with a start when a ladybird walks across a leaf, fully alert and ready for action. Take a night off, Christ. Brief discussion of the evening's frivolities and I mustered up the courage to investigate my beloved. She turned out to be ok, Don Bongo laid there quite the thing. Not one bit of damage. The odd smattering of cheese powder, crushed receipts and ground in dirt but nothing major. Quick change of the tweeds. Onwards!
If I were being completely honest with you, really our story ends here, brothers and sisters. But I'm not completely honest. We drove to Wick, got ourselves and the Jazz Wagon the fluids we all needed to continue. This was when I discovered Wick's time freeze when the petrol station woman said "Later" to the queue in front of me and was met each time with a "Later". No music was played for the entirety of our journey, the sun wasn't out to play anymore and we were experiencing the more traditional Scottish weather. It was nice to see the scenery in two different lights though to be completely honest about it. Guess what those other two cunts did? You'll never guess. They slept for two. Bloody. Hours. That's a new rule: at least one other has to be awake besides the Captain of the ship. In their defence all I had to do was blink and they shot up (returning to what we discussed before). The hunt for McDonalds was a tiring one. We decided as we passed Inverness that as we couldn't see it from the motorway, we wouldn't bother going for a look. I've seen Inverness on telly too, every time some prick in a goofy hat visits them they have to stop and ask for directions. And they're superstars, so what chance did we have?
This seems like a good time to point out that we actually took a detour through the Twilight Zone. So that's two trips for the price of one really. You remember that stellar parking spot I blabbed on about before? Well, it was off a two way road. I will stand in front of a judge now if you like and this is what I will say "Yes, Your Honour, I can wholeheartedly swear with my hand on the good book of truth, which is a scientific textbook I'd like to remind the jury, that we did not, I repeat for sake of deaf jurors, The Rastaman Rebels did not pass that parking spot on the way home" In the words of that Bill O'Reilly cunt - you can't explain that. Neither can I. I seemed to be the only one bothered, but then those two sods slept the first leg of the journey so it was all down to me to know if we passed it or not. But we didn't and we definitely took the same route we took to get there. Answers on a postcard.
We saw the bright lights of Glasgow and felt an air of danger. Well, I did. You ever driven that road in when your gears aren't working? What a bastard. Anyway, we stopped at McDonalds in Govan (where I hasten to add there was no small change like in London at all except that they served Irn Bru). Then we dropped Bongo home and argued about our route home right up til Captain Haddock's iPhone died. Fuck.
We managed it right up til Kilmarnock where he started complaining that I never listen or some crap like that, I dunno I wasn't really paying attention. Next thing I know, I'm sat in the Jazz Wagon waiting for CH to finish being criticised by his folks so I can get home and play me some Nintendo. Travel can do that to you, just want to go from one end of the spectrum to another, which in my mind was playing video games until going to sleep before going back to work the next day. How do I do it? That'll cost. Eventually he appeared after much pacing back and forth to contain the boredom on my part and I took him to his place of residence. Bit of an anticlimactic ending, I know, but what did you expect? I went to the Chocolate Kingdom and was named a hero? Good to be home to moaning pissheads, Bunny Dread and that blimmin' hamster.
No Australia blog this time. Introducing a new thing for the moment. Haven't got a fixed name for it yet. For now, this is Sergeant Dread's Monthly Mantras. At the end of every month, I'll pick the ten (or less) songs that summed the month up best and share them with you for your ignorant pleasure. So, here goes...
March 2012
1. The Beatles - Hey Bulldog
2. Arcade Fire - Keep The Car Running
3. The Smiths - London
4. Cat Power - Keep On Runnin' (Crawlin' Black Spider)
5. Paul Weller - Kling I Klang
6. The Stone Roses - Driving South
7. The National - England
8. The Jam - Set The House Ablaze
9. Billy Connolly - Irish Heartbeat [originally by Van Morrison but don't let that put you off]
The last tune is the big one. This is a one off, I won't do this soppy lyrics bollocks again but this one time I feel it's appropriate after about a month of the blog.
Paul Weller - Empty Ring
Careful not to end up fighting no one
Still battling on when all your enemies are gone
Making you look dumb and stupid
In an empty ring
What would it matter to you
If the punch you always planned was right there in your hand
No one there to see it land
In an empty ring
The taste of fear and fortune
The smell of toil and sweat
But if a crowd ain't there to see it
It's just another memory, just another memory
In an empty ring
Words of wisdom fail you
In the time it takes to fall
But if a crowd ain't there to see it
It's just another memory, just another memory
In an empty ring
Will the world to listen to you
Still battling on
When all your wars are won
You just don't know when to give up, do you?
In an empty ring
In a bit.
SD
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