have recently found myself in barcelona through absolutely no fault of my own (is it ever?) as per usural there's quite a tale attached (like a donkey). it all started in tottenham (what doesn't?) a close friend (hello sarah!) asks me if i want to go to a party in france. i say yes.
we all blat down in another mates van (hello bugs!) and arrive some 12-16 hours later in some godforsaken shitehole near montpellier. luckily someones remembered to bring a rig so all was good & the place was rocked. saw loads of old mates and made loads of new ones (yadda yadda) so all was well and good.
then, on to barcelona! and why not? barca itself is alright, a bit quiet. yet very, very touristy: prices through the roof, street 'mime' artists, drug dealers on the streets, the works. and get this: no one is from barcelona! like, seriously, no one. south america: check. europe: check. asia: check. australasia: check. north america: check. even the other four corners of spain were fairly represented. but nowhere, and i mean nowhere, did i bump into someone who was born in barcelona. crazy!
lots of dogs also. lots of little pissy dogs (me and ralphy refer to specimens such as these as 'snacks'). i mean i get it. they all live in teeny apartments that you ain't got room in to swing a cat, much less a large dog. but still. what's wrong with a staff? i can see what went wrong with the old armada, if you see what i mean. dear oh dear. hard as warm butter, this lot.
barcelona is also something of a gay mecca (this is NOT connected to the above paragraph in any way, some of the hardest men i've ever met have been screaming queens) luckily a wore me ravin' shoes and lots of lovely men bought me drinks (hello boys!). now, you know me, i'm as straight as a five bob note (i.e. could do with a quick iron) but have absolutely no qualms about fleecing anyone gay or straight, male or female, for free drinks. just don't expect me to blow you. not unless you is fit.
and now i'm back at sodding work. half sick, actually completely sick. 1 half chest infection (thanks park forum: you were a blast!) + 1 half cluck (no more meth for me!) = 1 sick puppy. ho hum. it's my own fault. i blame no one but myself. and maybe my parents. and all my friends. and, come to think of it, society as a whole.
but it's mainly my descendants fault...