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Old 06-24-2015, 12:35 AM
satan's twin satan's twin is offline
Louisiana Downs
 
Join Date: Mar 2007
Location: Keystone
Posts: 333
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Last year at this time Steve and I went to London with our friend Kevin Marko where we joined up with Brockguy to go to Royal Ascot. The day we arrived was a rare glorious sunny Saturday and it was also the day England was to play its first World Cup soccer match against Italy. It seemed as though every person in London was in a pub by late afternoon and half in the bag hours before the match began. My daughter had spent her previous year of college there and during my visis to see her, I became familiar with several choice watering holes. In Whitechapel, I knew of a pretty rough pub that was a slam dunk for providing idiot behavior from its patrons and maximum laughs for us. Smokers there can only drink and smoke on the street next to the pubs which meant the pub was empty with a couple hundred people hugging its walls outside. Once inside Dellinger spotted a girl face painting the St. George Cross ( pale white base under a bright red cross-a national symbol in England) onto the face of damn near every person in the bar. He couldn't wait to get his face painted. Unfortunately for him, I got to her first, and with a ten pound tip, I gave her specific instructions for how Steve's face flag was to turn out. She primped and painted him for about ten minutes and sent him back to us. Fortunately, there were no mirrors readily available for him to savor the art. We immediately encouraged him to step outside onto the sidewalk, start screaming "we're gonna win tonight" and high-five with everyone out there. With a half dozen Heinekens already stoking him, we really didn't have to encourage our boy all that much. He bolted out of the pub and into the center of that mob screaming and yelling like a banshee about how "we're winning tonight. That was easily one of the roughest, nastiest looking assemblages of ghouls iin all of London. Some were even men! Instead of the enthusiasic greetings he anticipated, Dellinger got pummeled with forearm smashes, elbows and body shots. And that was only half as bad as the verbal abuse. One pass through that gauntlet was all he was up for before returning to the comfort and solitude on the barstool adjacent to us. His first comment was " those f...ers really hate Americans." Apparently, they weren't real fond of Italians either. We pulled him into the bathroom to look into the mirror to see the Italian flag painted across his face that we had substituted onto his mug. We howled when he started screeching at us. But just for a minute. Nobody loved a joke more than him, even when he was the target. Keep raising hell brother. I'll miss ya.
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