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Victoria Embankment, London, Sat 10 MayTell you what this city needs, this bustling hotbed of commerce and activity, and that’s a load of slow-walking cunts jamming up the pavements on a slow-motion walking tour. You can already tell what the attendees will look like; the men will be walking with their hands behind their backs like scholarly Imams, the women, arms folded, gazing up at whatever landmark their tortoise-paced tour has brought them to. Children… Well, technically children aren’t allowed as it’s 14 or over.Kids under 14 must be fucking screwing. It’s like when you can’t buy an 18-rated VHS, or go to the bar unaccompanied, even though all you want is a lemonade. Grown-ups are always trying to ruin your fun, and now they take away the slow-motion walking tours of London? Fuck that. I say all the under-14s need to unite under one banner, and show that yes: they CAN walk slowly, they CAN handle a shandy down the Crown & Anchor, they CAN deal with all the cum jokes in Scary Movie, mostly because they don't understand them yet.
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St Column Minor Memorial Hall, Newquay, Sun 11 MayA little while ago, I began re-watching episodes of seminal alcohol madness documentary series, Booze Britain. In these artfully shot pieces, camera crews follows groups of men or women or both around their respective towns. It’s usually a town they’re going to university in or a town they will never leave. There were episodes in Stirling, Newcastle, Liverpool, Portsmouth, Weston-Super-Mare, and they all plumbed certain depths of debauchery, but nothing compared to the sheer madness of the Newquay episode. A group of about five or six men, who dubbed themselves "The Tanks", drank mineswept pints with fag ends in, shots of sambuca they’d gobbed in, snorted condiments, the lot. The grande finale came when one of them stripped naked in what looked like a takeaway shop, pissed in a pint glass and gave it to his mate, who then downed the whole thing, threw it up into a bucket and the naked man drank his own regurgitated piss and then threw it back up all over his mate again.
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Royal Armouries Museum, LeedsThe Leeds Royal Armouries Museum is getting an awful lot of mileage out of the word "swords" and "Middle Earth" here. They have a total of four, count them, four – 4 – swords in this non-exhibition, and they’re not even the fucking swords from the film. In fact, they’re not even the original replicas of the swords from the film, as apparently they’d "sold out" and were "limited to 10-20".What? You couldn’t even get the fucking actual replicas that some nerd bag with too much money has on the wall in his room? Just say they’re the real ones from the movie, who the fuck is going to know the difference? It’s a sword, not the Adoration of the Magi, for fuck's sake. At least they were made by the same guy who did the originals, but it’s not the same, is it? If I was going to see Swords Of Middle Earth (I wouldn't) I want to see the swords that beheaded orcs and aided Frodo on his journey to the chasm of Mount Doom.Also, wasn’t JRR Tolkien just getting lazy when he invented "Mount Doom"? All these elaborate names for places and people, and he sets up the final scene in fucking "Mount Doom"? Guy’s a cunt, but he probably had better weekends than you shit-munching fart-breathers will over the next two and a half days.Have a shit one, prickos.@joe_bish
