Stories and Tall Tales

A bottle of piss

For some reason we ended up being really friendly with a lot of punks from Bristol, in particular Tim and Bear, who ended up being the editor of a really great skatezine out of St. Pauls called Skate Muties From The 5th Dimension, they also had their housing co-op/music collective all sorted too.
At the Stockwell Park anti-trident do, or whatever it was, in Brixton, I think we discovered the worst case of footrot that possibly ever existed, on Bear. A tall geezer, orange hair, top hat, feathers, a real scarecrow of a man. During a conversation on the bank a couple of us noticed a pretty disgusting smell. Bear explained that he had owned his DM?s for a long time, before becoming a vegan, but they were trustworthy shoes etc etc. Anyway, the stench? No soles, literally nothing, just wet magazine pages being held in place by silver gaffer tape. Blech.
Almost as bad, I remember Christie also pissed into a big 2 litre pop bottle, filled it right to the top, then attempted to throw it out of the skylight of the bus going down there at full pelt, without the top on, bit of a nasty golden shower for at least the 6 closest seats.
I hope he?s cleaned his act up by now.