The Recreation Uniform

I think I’m going to write about recreation, the way in which people choose to have their play-time. This is a recurring theme for people of my age. In this piece of writing I’m going to evaluate the manner in which people choose to intoxicate themselves and pursue their kicks week-in, week-out.

Alcohol is the universal drug of choice. (And a drug it most certainly is) Not only is it a legal drug, it is encouraged and embraced by all walks of the community as the “done thing”, recreationally. No one questions it. I have been thinking about why.


It was my 20th last Friday, I had a bad one. I started drinking early and continued to drink heavily and frequently into the latter stages of the night. From start to finish I was a sinking ship. My speech was bullshit, I barely remember a single person from the myriads of strangers that were colonising in my lounge. I just remember speaking bull shit. Oh imagine the bull shit that was spoken. I was probably arguing very drunkenly and over-passionately with some glory bastard who supports United about how talented Stewart Downing is as a footballer. (this has happened numerous times, I’m always alone, I always lose the argument and I’m generally always hated by the end of it) I just remember going into the fridge to eat these meat balls, I must have gone back and forth about 7 times within the space of 1 minute and 30 seconds, a sight which was probably very much enjoyed by the group of spectators present.

Earlier in the day I went for a shop at Aldi and on entry there was a fireworks display, and immediately I fell in love with the idea of the “MEGA BLASTER!!!” because let’s face it, a party isn’t a real party without one. The pack consisted of about 7 different fireworks of several different varieties. I didn’t have to think twice about buying it. I was fucking smashed when we decided to let them off. I don’t remember much of what ensued, only that I got bored of watching them, and decided to let them off in my own hands and brandish them around like some kind of “Twisted Fire-starter” I didn’t know what the fireworks were, I couldn’t read the label, couldn’t be bothered even. If it was a rocket though, all hell would be let loose and in the future I’d probably be wanking with my left hand.  I’ve seen a video recorded of it, and its basically just this hopelessly loud bloke bouncing around shouting things like “Yeah baby!” in some kind of drunken pyro-euphoria.  I suppose I’m just a young boy who can’t handle his mega blaster.

Later three of my friends really let me down for no apparent reason, and the night culminated in me seeking desperate counsel from some of my unfortunate house mates who thoughtfully obliged. Thanks house mates (especially Waldo, thank you for everything Waldo, and I’m sorry I keep stealing your shit). After they left though, I ended up a crying heap on my bed and rang about 3 of my best friends for support. That was my last memory of the night. I don’t even know why I was crying, my life’s all right, couId be better, but I can’t complain, the future’s bright. I don’t really have much shame in admitting this, emotions can be impossible to harness when you’re drunk, and at that time, I was on a different planet.

From my experience, the extreme of being drunk, and I mean extreme is basically just a living hell. You’re trapped in your own head, the room starts spinning and you can’t even think straight. Everything outside your head is so intense, you just want to crawl up and be nothing to do with it. I appreciate that some people will just fall asleep, and some people haven’t ventured this far, but when you have, you’ll know what I’m talking about. 

So usually an ethanol powered night goes roughly like this; You have a few drinks at your house, put a few merry tunes on and then it’s time to leave with you loyal comrades. You look forward to seeing a girl you like, or whatever. With any luck, she likes you back and you’ll pull her, oh it is exciting isn’t it? After a couple of Gaymers’ finest pear cider you’ve got that Dutch courage to pull you through. You’re a bit tipsy, being a bit bolder than you normally would in speech, your confidence is high; brilliant. Its all good up until now really, but you’re happy so what do you do? Drink. You’re drifting away from reality but that’s good, reality is overrated anyway. Let’s forget our lives, pretend our problems don’t exist, just for tonight. Just keep drinking, drinking is “radical” man, the idea of drinking large amounts is always so appealing. Drinking makes you lose your rational thought so the more drunk you get the more you’ll continue to drink. “4 shots of your finest Sambuca please barman” “£12.65 please mate” Shit. Who cares? We’re getting hammered, We just don’t give a fuck.

Without realising it you’re on a journey to a destination that doesn’t exist. The only destination you’ve got a ticket to is a bad one, hopefully everyone’s so fucked they don’t remember, including you, but you could be visiting somewhere nasty where you’re a mess and you fuck up badly. Violence? Humiliation? Loss of possessions? All absolute mother fuckers, and there’s always many more out there to be discovered.

The thing that strikes me about poisoning yourself with alcohol is that, when you consume it, you are effectively switching yourself off. You are putting your mind and body to bed. If you drink it in enough volume, you will fall asleep, or ultimately; die. You are reducing your awareness and concentration. (which is the primary cause for the illegality of drink-driving) Alcohol reduces you to your primitive instincts. If some lad tries to insult you, you want to fight them. I usually tread on thin ice and find unique ways to provoke people (who I can already tell are bad people, but I’m still being a little piece of shit). People get that “look in their eyes” as they scan the vacinity for a mate. Much like animals. Horrideous bastards can be seen rubbing their pubic area against the posteria of unconsenting girls all around.

You begin to deviate from your regular mannerisms and ways of speaking, I.E- act like a wanker. Penelope might fall over and get thrown out, she might later try and defend her horrideous behaviour by suggesting that she’s “been spiked” We all know Penelope truly has NOT been spiked. So shut up. An average night out you’ll shake hands with 3 or 4 boys who’s name you won’t remember, you may not even like these people but because of the drink you’ll bloody do it anyway. Alcohol leads to affection which would never in a million years have taken place in the cold light of day. Ever been to McDonalds on a night out? Hell. It’s full of a species of homo-sapien who suffer from emptiness of the cranium.  There’s always some smashed little streak of piss called Quentin trying to hug the poor big Nigerian bouncer called Lazarus, saying something like “Mate can we be friends??!!!!” to amuse his friends, they are amused. Quentin proceeds to the counter and buys a big mac and chips which he only eats half of, on exit he shakes hands with the bouncer and says “I love you mate take care of yourself!!!!” Quentin, you’re making a fucking tit out of yourself, now go to bed you stupid c**t.

Whenever I go out at there’s no loyalty whatsoever. In terms of lads, you’re not out on the night out together really. People won’t think twice about leaving you to go out on their own devices. In this way, alcohol separates you from each other. I have a mate actually, Julius he’s called brilliant, brilliant guy, who always has some kind of mysterious ulterior motive which emerges after a few glasses of vodka.  When he gets drunk, he disappears through the cracks into dark places that no one knows about, engaging in treachery and bizarre behaviours which are completely unaccountable, and never spoken of again. Absolutely no consideration for friends whatsoever. People get into states where the last thing they want to do is actually answer their phone. Its all about the lack of awareness. All too many times I remember walking around clubs aimlessly, up to new floors, out in the smoking areas, to find no one.  I always end up going home with someone who I didn’t come out with, it might be Julius’s flat mates who actually think I’m a dick, or some girl that Dorridge Cornfred may or may not have slept with in one drunken night of passion (In- joke) “Where did you get to last night Zenith? I totally lost you bro” asked Molvern “Sincerest apologies Molvern, I was so very intoxicated that I haven’t got the foggiest idea where I got to” Like thats a fucking valid excuse Zenith you desperate little mollusc bastard.

I’ve had so many nights when I don’t remember what happened, and I suppose it is difficult to determine whether its possible to have had a good night if you don’t remember it. The conclusion I’ve came to is that no, if you can’t remember it, It can’t be good, you might as well not have been doing anything at all.

Good things can’t really possibly happen at events called “VODBULL” or “CARNAGE” That’s something I’ve conceded. That’s why I used to hop the fence at Revs- If ever I were to pay to enter a place so full of debauchery, tasteless music, and single cell organisms flocking around chatting bull shit about their bull shit lives, I would lose a piece of my soul. I might as well make a game out of it, if you’re smart and you win, the rewards are self-explanatory. As you may have heard I specialise in expedience and subterfuges. I like playing games. As I stand in the queue I am ever-looking for opportunities. I observe the eye-line of the bouncers all in one image using my falcon-like peripheral vision. As soon as they are distracted by some whopper somewhere and people are pre occupied with chat and music, the moment comes. I hop the metal fence briskly and rush up the stairs with the bouncer in quick pursuit. Now here’s the fun part, I quickly migrate to wherever the masses of people are congregating and blend into that crowd just like the Creed and lose that big bastard right away. I produce a smug grin of satisfaction as I watch the meaty ex-criminal lumbering up the stairs, irate and looking intently for the perpetrator, to no avail. He won’t find me. That’s my night’s worth of fun. Haha now I’m here I might as well get my free drinks worth then…….

Back to more solemn issues then; I had to get away from Birmingham on Saturday night, and arrived in Loughborough at approximately 2:30 am. The town is in disarray. Fucking Siberian wasteland. And I’ve never been so ashamed to be alive really. Everywhere scum. Mindless thugs were jumping about everywhere, insulting people, trying to start fights. I saw people who were so fucked that their facial features were all in the wrong places, people lying on pavements, sprawling around with crowds looking over, not even surprised about what they’re seeing. Angry people gurning to themselves in the dark corners of the room. On the dance-floor aggressive monsters were leaving their shoulder out there as they storm through, Where are they going? You don’t have to do anything to start a fight, that’s what they’re in town for. They’re looking for a reason to batter you, because that’s the only thing that can comfort them in life. Rats. Society would be better if they all vanished off the face of the Earth ( I think you know what I originally put for that sentence)

Lets talk about deaths shall we; In 2011 there were 8,748 alcohol-related deaths in the UK, 42 fewer than in 2010 (8,790)(–2011.html) According to The Mail; Its more like 30, 000. I think that’s more like it. Imagine the volume of alcohol fuelled fights in major cities like Manchester and Birmingham, not to mention fucking Greater London. People fight on nights out, and people are drunk. Then these people die. They’re probably not defined in these statistics. If they don’t die they can become seriously injured, and end up clogging up “casualty wards all over the land” That costs money. (Yes this a point that corresponds with “The Irony Of It All” by The Streets a brilliant, brilliant song, and if you haven’t seen it, you MUST watch it Again The Mail tells us that “Alcohol misuse is costing the NHS up to £3billion a year, with more than 28,000 hospital admissions caused by alcohol dependence or poisoning” (This information can be found on the same hyper-link) Its not the money we should be bothered about though, it’s just wrong isn’t it? Seriously wrong. And there is absolutely nothing that anyone is ever going to do about it. Another means of death from this poisonous liquid is its resident addiction; alcoholism. A nasty, nasty fucker that goes hand in hand with liver disease. I think we can all agree but I don’t have time to talk about that.

Don’t even get me started on smoking. A useless habit. A waste of money, and it kills. Another perfectly legal drug. 114,000, 20% of deaths world wide. Those statistics speak for themselves.

Drinking alcohol is nothing compared to smoking drugs. Smoking the Magic Clover (that’s what the gangsters call it, I think) is absolutely terrible. I hear stories about little yobs sitting in garages for hours on end, talking to each other and listening to hip hop music and it sickens my stomach. Weed is a terrible substance, it’s definitely Class B and illegal for highly valid reasons, I mean look at the deaths that it causes per year…… Oh wait actually, apologies, I seem to have my facts mixed up, there haven’t been any recorded fatalities from it, ever. When these groups of people smoke devil grass together, they sit down, do nothing, eat, philosophise, laugh together. Criminals. Someone needs to stop them they are a threat to society.

Smoking weed can have adverse effects if it is done in excess. But so can most substances, too many chips will make you a fat lump of shit with a heart that struggles to pump blood round the entire circumference of your bingo-wings. “All things in moderation”- Aristotle. People debate whether it is addictive or not, but its not, its really not. It’s a lifestyle choice. If you’re smoking it way, way too much, its your life that’s the problem, not the doob. It amazes me what people think about weed sometimes. If you’re an educated person, and especially after looking at all the deaths and financial implications of alcohol in statistic form, and you still maintain that cannabis is worse than alcohol, then you’re just a bit simple really aren’t you mate?

I’m not going to endeavour to defend ecstasy, partly because I can’t be arsed, but acknowledge that fights don’t result from it, in most cases; just happiness and union between friends and a love for music. The bad stories that come from it (and there are bad stories) are a result of stupidity and ignorance. Buying it off an unreliable source is what costs people. If you know what you’re getting, and how much to have, I have no problem with people taking ecstasy. The problem is people don’t know what they’re getting or how much. Pill-Poppers nights have meaning, they go to support musicians they love, and the crowds there are all assembled in an almost harmonic appreciation for each other and the music they are listening to.  27 deaths for ecstasy last year. A pattern seems to be emerging…..

There is a lot passion in that. There are only two types of events which I have seen which have the capability to make a man raise both of his arms and push his chest out, and dance music events are one of them- The other is football. I believe Passion is an intelligence, and at fucking Pop World Funky Fridays, I’m telling you now there really is no passion whatsoever.

If you’ve continued reading this article up to this point, then you will probably be thinking that I’m strongly discouraging the use of alcohol. I drink it myself and will continue to drink it (I know loads of people would love it if I actually came out and said that alcohol legality, or even consumption was absolutely wrong, just to call me a hypocrite and think they’re being really original and clever) I’m not saying it’s wrong. I just think society is very deluded about the reality of drugs, and alcohol’s reputation should be more in question. I just want the monotonous characters who discriminate against weed and ecstasy who go out every weekend to do the same thing, at the same places, over and over again for no real cause to open their minds to the bigger picture. They won’t though The nights are mindless and insipid, they have no purpose.  Because it’s what everyone does, and its comfortable for them for that reason. There is safety in numbers. The majority can’t be wrong can they?

On the night before my birthday I went to a poetry slam event, and then with another lad who’s birthday it was as well planned on going out on Broad St. I had a few beers but it just made me feel tired. Alcohol can do that unfortunately. I had an epiphany really. It was about 23:50 when I looked around me and I was surrounded by nothing but whopping people, making a mess out of themselves, Livestock they were. I had to leave, nothing good could come of it, so I turned 20 in a cab back to Selly Oak on my own. Nice.

The compulsion that people have for alcohol and cigarettes is in itself quite depressing, maybe it’s the symptoms of something else? Alcohol is a refuge, and always will be. It’s embedded in society way too deep now, its commerce is way too strong if nothing else. It’s the blood of Christ for God’s sake!!!! Its been drank for thousands of years by eskimos and tribesmen and kings and politicians and it won’t stop now. In an ideal world things would be abolished, but the country is set in its ways. What makes people happy is alcohol and fags, they destroy people in abundance but they make people happy, and if you took them away the chaos that would ensue is quite frankly unimaginable. The problem will never be addressed because we are too weak to make decisions that are for the better of the country, because they disappoint the majority of its population. (Not that this problem of alcohol is exclusively a U.K one, its not) I’m in danger of sounding political here, and I will admit that I know nothing about politics whatsoever. I’ll say no more about it, I’ll just pretend its a problem thats not there like everyone else seems to be doing. Good to talk about these things though bro (Y)

For some people, the alcoholic routine is great, they love life, that’s great, keep it going! Just don’t fucking tweet endlessly about your hangover and we can surely maintain our friendship. I’m just not that simple, as I have listed there are way too many reasons to be sceptical about it and not enough to accept it with open arms so readily. We have to just find our own sub-cultures and celebrate our own individuality in whatever way we can. I’m lucky because I have one, and it really is the best, we know exactly what we are doing, and recreational life could not be better. Fashion, music, humour its all spot on with the Southampton boys, and it will be for many years to come.  I’m making memories and having experiences which I will treasure for the rest of my life, and luckily I have so much more than the banal, pointless, mediocrity that takes place on nights out. Oh yeah, and stay away from fireworks.

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