I spent too much money over the Xmas period (and in the weeks leading up to it), and as a result I’ve found myself incredibly skint this month. This has meant that I’ve had to be very careful with money through January and I’ve given up the booze. Cold Turkey.
Having had to spend so much time in has given me a lot of time to think and evaluate my life. I’ve been wondering where all the time has disappeared to and asking myself: would I do things differently if I had my time all over again? The answer is undoubtedly, yes! Most of my regrets are about sex, drugs and booze – but only that I didn’t have more of these things when I was younger. I had my fair share of course, but not to the excess that I would have really liked.
In truth, I’m having more fun now than I ever did before – but given that most of my school pals are now married with kids and settled down – at what point do I have to do the same? At what age will I have “missed the boat”? When is it too old to dance etcetera?
On Friday I was lucky enough to be given a free ticket to a gig in Camden. It was a Screamo band called The Blackout. It was good fun, but I was clearly the oldest person in the place by at least 10 years. I was certainly the only bald bloke there. Being in situations like that really make you think…
Then on Saturday I went to my mum’s, unannounced, and by coincidence she was looking through some old photos of me. They brought back all kinds of memories for me, so I thought I’d share a few of them on here. All were taken during my teenage years between the ages of 16-19, back in the days when I had hair and piercings (as now, I didn’t like smiling much back then). I used to listen to The Doors, Supergrass, The Prodigy and Pink Floyd on a daily basis during that period in my life, and I’d sit up all night watching The Evil Dead films and listening to The Clash. I used to play Super Mario and Street Fighter 2 on my Nintendo console as well (but only up until the time I discovered the pub and put childish things behind me). There was also a picture of of teenage bedroom – complete with Che Guevara and Clockwork Orange posters – which brought back all kinds of nostalgic reminiscings.
It was around those years – while I was still at school – that I got my first tattoo; a sun on my hip. Together with the piercings, this should have made me the coolest person in Sixth Form by rights. But it didn’t, sadly. I actually had my first tattoo before I lost my virginity, although it was around that time that I had my first proper girlfriend – a shoplifter called Michelle who went to Notre Dame school (dirty catholic sluts).
I also remember when I first went to the Ivy House pub at the age of 16 with my fake ID, or going to the Venue nightclub in New Cross. Or the Bon Bonne in Norwood and Gin Palace in Old Kent Road. I also went to Klub Ku and The Fridge but I didn’t realise they were gay clubs at the time.
When doing my Art A-level I got to go to life drawing classes and it was the first time I’d seen a naked lady up close (apart from watching Eurotrash, staring closeup at the telly screen with my trousers round my ankles). On the first time I went, there was an attractive young French student posing, and during the tea break she came up to me to chat (probably because I was the only other young person in the room). Certainly wouldn’t happen to me now! She only put a jumper on, and when I glanced down (which I did often), I could see her vagina. I was so excited and terrified that I couldn’t speak properly and ended up mumbling like a spasmo. I was much more shy in those days, I would never of had the confidence to go in to a pub and sit at the bar, talking to the barmaids like I do now. But in fairness I did look very young, and I suppose for some people these things come with age.
Looking back at these pictures brought back some good memories but also made me feel a bit sad. I wonder what the next 10 years will have in store for me…
Anyway, here are some of the photos:
Categories:London Life, Photos, Woe
This is a personal website and the views expressed here are my own (or stolen from other people down the pub). Facts may not be accurate, or could be poorly paraphrased gags borrowed from proper writers - or simply, outright lies.