The interview on Friday was probably the worst interview I've ever done. I thought I'd made it fairly clear in the other thread that I'd totally fucked it up?
Anyways I have been off reasonably shitfaced since.
If you think your man had a lucky escape Dexter I'll trump that with one I heard a while ago.
There's a local dude called Tam who is by all intents one of the world's great drunks. He's a very nice bloke (he once gave me a tenner to go and buy the Legion of Doom wrestling figures)
but one of those shambolic types that amazes you how he managed to reach the age of retirement.
Tam is a major loyalist, pretty sure he was into all sorts in Ulster during the height of the troubles.
As a result his arms are covered in UDA tattoos.
Tam is a hefty chap and likes to wear vests in the Summer as his size makes him a bit of a sweaty bastard.
After one of his full on benders he found himself being chucked out of a taxi in the middle of the Gallowgate, pretty much the most hardcore Republican / Celtic part of Glasgow.
Luckilly for Tam his brother in law is a taxi driver but being the days before mobile phones Tam realised that he needed to find a payphone, if he could swing a drink into the act then all the better.
He stoated into Baird's bar (which is literally world famous as a Celtic pub and was shut down not too long ago due to Republican / IRA links)
This is one of those places where everyone turns to see who walks in and as soon as they saw Tam (UDA tattoos on full show) the barman shouted: "Have you not got the wrong pub mate?"
To which Tam, in the way only one of those archetypal booze maniacs could do, shouted back "That depends pal, do you sell lager?"
The barman split his sides, phoned Tam's brother in law (hence why we know the story) and told him he could have a pint then he better get the fuck out before he was lynched from the nearest lamp post
