Jesus, this reminds me of the summer of 1990. I was hanging out wearing a Cool as Fuck t-shirt (like this one but tye-died) in a village which had a strong Garth Brooks fixation and a lot of check shirts.
No wonder I was accused of all sorts of drug related things. At least I wasn’t beating my wife, fingering underage barmaids or generally being evil. In fact, I think that summer may have been the last time I felt kinda content.
Hanging out, playing football, listening to music, smoking a lot of cigarettes (a lot), occasionally getting drunk. No responsibility, the house was quiet and I just wandered. Getting blasted in the spooky Protestant graveyard, climbing the Pub sign (very high) and one major drunken altercation (sorry Mr Man) with a vegetable patch. Sounds like a Hovis commercial for young offenders. Shit, twenty years later…
and this just made me feel miserable and fringe-y.
If you’re out there
I wished I’d met you 20 years ago because that piece above just about describes what I was up to. Conform or be subject to accusation of weirdness, ah my youth and the way I look back on it fondly. The blog looks great btw! Mooooooooo.
Thanks Kevin. To all those people from the past, I’m sure you will join with me and scream, “Look at us now.” Although I do believe hugging MP3s will make you blind. Be careful