fidel castro

saturday night was an interesting experience.
I had heard of this small palce some 7 kms
south of whre i am that showed satellite tv and premier league
football live. So i got in a suicidal rickshaw and sped over ther
for the kick off.

On arrival I heard this crazy roar from the crowd and on walking in
i was deafened by full speakers blasting my head off from
one of the main football grounds in London. Bizarre!

I met a scot that I had bumper into up the high passes
and iordered a drink. The strange thisg was this place could have
been any local anywhere in the uk. The obvious difference
was that when you look to the left of
the screen you had the himalayas and some amazing views.
not quite what wwe have at the three horseshoes hey.

just as i thought things couldn't get any better
they closed the curtains and a gian screen appeared for the second game.
the volume went up and everyone settled down for a few hrs of footie.

Of course this is the himalaya and soon almost everyuone in the joint
was rolling a joint smelling the whole joint out. It's alwasy
odd sitting in a public area watching several of the underbelly
figures skin up with absolutely no fear
or regard for the law.

Before long the whole place was adrift in hash fumes.
Not being a partaker I observed the atmosphere alter into
a more chilled amsterdam vibe. Then across the bar
i noticed a weak looking figure with the white beard
and frail hands.
Imlloed at the scot next to me and said, 'either you have slipped me so
me of that shit or else thats fidel castro.'
He looked over and with a stoned stupper burst out laughing.
'fuck me, i knew that old git was laying low but this is rediculous.'

The evening went on in a simlar vein with the sublime
trying to outdo the rediculous.

--------------------------

epilogue

last night he was sat behind me again.

i belive he is following me for advice on the present social
impending crisis to hit cuba. I'm not for talking......