martes, agosto 21, 2007

Another Day in Paradise

So, Goth will try and describe a usual day in the capital of Europe. Goth could wish he was a cunning linguist but, he never was that good at tennis. It will be raining (it's always fucking raining in Brussels) and grey and full of stupid twats called 'tourists' who couldn't afford to go somewhere interesting like Prague or Venice or any fucking where that matters.

However, stuck in Brussels like a pig on a stick, one could decide to embark on an adventure, braving the magical mystery machine, known as the Metro. Cunning piece of technology designed to put people in little tunnels in the vain hope that they might go somewhere interesting. As it never quite works that way, one might arrive in a pub-type place.

*Set the scene Goth*

OK, one might find an Irish bar with...

An Irish barman with Dutch roots and the 'munchies'
A dippy Irish girl with a lunatic boyfriend
A German guy with intelligence but not enough to fuck off when told to
An English person with more money than sense
A Welsh man with a slightly ironic attitude
An Indian without a cowboy in sight
A French woman with an empty stomach and the latest sudoku
A Scotsman with a penchant for crosswords
A South American with ideas beyond their reach
A Greek man with a BMW but no charisma
A Belgian wastoid without a shag since life began
A Spanish waiter who drops everything he touches
An American looking for proper food
A Mexican with an habitual need for various substances

oh, and lots of alcohol at inflated prices.

Welcome to the cosmopolitan hell that is Brussels, without a van Damn in sight.

Of course, one should not forget the train of European 'amateur politicians' passing through hoping that someone notices their prescence, a smattering of burnt out journalists and various celebrities who couldn't be famous if their very life force depended on it.

Add to that, some stale peanuts, some out-of-date crisps and lashings of mayonnaise and welcome to the jungle baby.

Could be worse I suppose, the doors might be closed or they could have banned smoking.... again... for a day or twenty.

Bollocks, get the beers in.

13 comentarios:

Stacie dijo...

well...stale or not, at least they have beer. I could do without all the company as I'm a bit of a loner, but if I had beer, I guess it'd be alright..

john.g. dijo...

I think i'll stay in my local!

john.g. dijo...

Oh, and BTW Goth, the wheels aren't squeaking!

PI dijo...

Don't people - tourists - visit Belgian for the cuisine - although I still csn't get my head round chips with mayonnaise - Daphne notwithstanding. And how dare you suggest my cyber son has squeaky wheels?

john.g. dijo...

Thanks Mum2 xx

Brom dijo...

Ha the Metro.

No one told me that once you bought a ticket you had to do things TO the ticket before your feet left the platform.

Twas only on my last ride of my last visit that a station-ary bloke helped my with a semi busted ticket machine, then noted my attempted departure and told me that I had to validate my bit of card before using it.

I've got a wad of them upstairs! - I wonder if I could sell em on Ebay?

(Gee that comment is a blogpost by itself, and I've dedicated it to you lovely boyo)

You Sick Bastard! dijo...

But all the alcohol could be flat and that would be truly hell.

SpanishGoth dijo...

Stacie -> not always, sometimes they run out - bastards

JG -> local is good, never said wheels were squeaking

Pat -> it most certainly is not for the 'cuisine'

Brom -> JJ spent awhile riding the Metro for free as I told him it was free

YSB -> flat Jack Daniels is ok for me

Gorilla Bananas dijo...

The intelligent German guy could have been a great philosopher like Schopenhauer, explaining the meaning of life, and you told him to fuck off! Lady Daphne says that Belgian chips are the best in the world.

zoe dijo...

goth! you told JJ that the metro was for free ? BWAHAHAHAHAHA what a twit for believing you.

Tom Joad dijo...

You should try some 'real' Belgian bars, Goth. My local has a peak-time crowd of around 10 and they all bugger off around 6.30 for their din-dins. The barman knows me and just keeps the Jupes coming until I raise my hand in submission. I passed a very pleasant evening there with Mme Joad last night and the bill came to a whopping €29.00 for both of us to get a bit wobbly. I think the bastard's overcharged me...

Tippler dijo...

Tom, your missus does NOT do 'a bit wobbly'.

She's either stone cold sober or flat on her arse.

The process took about fifteen minutes last time, if memory serves

SpanishGoth dijo...

GB -> actually, knowing that Schopenhauer died in 1860 I don't think he would have been in the pub (but I have read his work)

Zoe -> not just once but for nearly 2 weeks !!

Tom -> I do drink in typical Belgium bars, and Portuguese and Spanish

Tippler -> oh you are such a bad influence on people