February 27, 2008

PXPL & The Sticky Mishap

Filed under: Uncategorized, editorial, PhoeniX Phil — pxpl @ 1:08 pm

PXPL & The Sticky Mishap

Current mood: crushed
Category: a little lost and found
Writing and Poetry

Friday 16th June 2006 T’was a great night… my housemate Ed aka “The Rulez” came along with me to see Lucky Soul play at the Brixton windmill and now he is also a dedicated “Soul’dier”… although the hot weather meant that had a few too many shandies and was probably a bit devastated… I apologise if I upset anyone. This is…

Phoenix PhiL & The Sticky Mishap

Anyhow, the “Lips Are Unhappy” / “Baby I’m Broke” single by Lucky Soul is sound tracking my Summer…. it’s a bittersweet double header that I keep listening to. I remember during the long hot Summer of ‘95 I had Supergrass “Alright” / “Time” orange 7 inch constantly on my Alba mini hifi turntable. If I was about to hit the streets or if life was good then I’d throw the needle onto “Alright”… when I’d come back home from the streets - all tired and defeated, I’d flip the yellow 7inch over and collapse to the melancholic tones “Time”. Well, the new Lucky Soul single has a similar effect on me these days. The bittersweet pop heaven of “Lips Are Unhappy” despite being kind of a break up song was built for hitting the street and the flip side “Baby I’m Broke” is the perfect soundtrack for collapsing on your bed with a big cup of tea while summer rain hits your bedroom window.


I was so drunk infact, that after the show I got a £1.99 “dirt box” from a dubious chicken outlet. It’s odd, most people get drunk and wake up with a headache and a rash regretting some ill advised night of passion… I get drunk and wake up with a stomach ache and an oily mouth regretting fast food.

Despite the KFC photo on MySpace.. I’m not really a “Chicken Box” kinda guy. I like chow mein in a tupperwear box but takeaways always close at like, 11 or something…. thus by the time your out on the streets feeling a bit tipsy and hungry for fodder they’ve already turned the lights off and gone to bed.

At my most blokey I have been known to “enjoy” the classic Kebab Meat & Chips in a polystyrene tray a “Yellow Sign Dirt Merchants”. I think this is mainly because I order it using my bestest faux-chav accent and then add the necessary “.. yeah and plenty of chilli sauce on that please mate”. Problem is with Meat & Chips is that it makes you stink like filth for the next three days and everyone avoids you like you’re the proverbial wicked uncle.

A classic Chippy is “the bliss” on the way home… just a simple open portion of big British chips… maybe sometimes with a saveloy. Oh the saveloy.. it’s like a sausage from outer space or something. The problem is with the classic chippy is that they tend to be family business and they shut early to avoid exposing their poor innocent children and frail grandparents to the drunken likes of me. And they tend to be located away from the night time world.

Anyhow, that is just some of the fun I have when choosing my post-boozing fodder supplier.

My mother’s right…. I’ll never marry.

SO, the next thing I know….

I woke in my front room at 4 in the morning with my massive Eeyore mug resting in my lap at a tilted angle… I felt a heavy drip…

..followed by another heavy drip

..drip! drip! and thrice, another drip!

My massive Eeyore mug that was resting in my lap albeit tilted at an angle was slowly pouring pepsi max all over my groin… still being a bit drunk, I whipped off my jeans and boxers shorts and left them half-in half-out of the washing machine and sloped off to bed with my bottom half completely naked…

I then woke up at about 10 am. I was lying on top of my bed with no underwear or trousers on… with the window wide open. I shudder to think who may have seen my sticky cola crotch in the early morning light. It would’ve put even the most gluttonous family off their breakfast.

Oh the trials of being “the bad boy twee”.



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