Current mood: FANS...
Category: FANS... Music
BLOG MATERIAL...
Yes boss, yesterday Mrs Giovanni and myself went out to the pub...
WHAT?!?
MRS GIOVANNI WENT TO A PUB WITH YOU MR GIOVANNI?!?
HELL YES!!! VERY OCCASIONALLY IT HAPPENS!!!!
Now, I know a few of you doubt the existance of Mrs Giovanni.
Yes boss, I'm certain some of you think she's a figment of my wanky little mind, and that every night I do infact sleep with a large pink teddy that I dress up in suspsenders and lipstick and talk to as if it's my girlfriend....
But let me say this:
If you think like that you're the ONE WITH THE PROBLEM!!!!
MRS GIOVANNI LIVES AND WE WENT TO THE PUB!!!!
So, the pub was called The Lauriston, it's in 'Hackney Village' and it's a shitty fucking pub.
Yes boss, the first time I ever went into The Lauriston I noticed a sign that said that anyone wearing baseball caps or Burberry wasn't allowed in...
WELL!?!?
Sure our chavvy little friends can be a pain in the ass at times, but is it absolutely necesary to BAN the fuckers from the local pub. I mean how far away is that from
No Irish, No Blacks & No Dogs
But that's the spirit of Hackney Village...
It's completely full of middle of the road riche folk, who've either got lucky on the property market, or who think of themselves as being ever so slightly clever....
We're talking people who think slumming it is driving a vintage Saab. People who live in a rough area, even though they're loaded because they think it's rootsy...
Like
'Yeah we live in a shithole, but in this quaint villagey bit that isn't that slummy, next to a huge park in a million pound house, but yah, we live in Hackney, we've seen a Banksy, we're probably artists!!!'
Anyway, the 'No Chavs' sign came down a while back and my pink teddy (in suspenders and lipstick) and I still go to The Lauriston about 3 times a year, because it's one of the few places anywhere local, that does Italian style pizzas in a proper oven, and Mrs G does need her Italian style Pizzas now and then or else she'll stop yelling at her Italian friends when they're only a foot away and stop saying Ciao!
So, we get inside, and there's this noise going on that made me imagine a human being forced through a coffee grinder.
Yes boss, it was a deeply penetrating kind of a sound that really digs into your subconscious and starts pushing up the daisies.....
Well, figuring it could only be a temporary sound, we took a seat and ordered food..
It didn't stop...
It went on
and on
and on
and the staff are working around it as if it didn't exist.
So, I tolerated this racket for a while and seeing no human beings (or even coffee beans) being fed into coffee grinders or workmen using heavy tools, I went to the general area from where it were coming, to have a look at what exactly the sound was....
Well, you'll never guess what was casuing it?!?
A fucking ordinary table top fan!! They'd balanced it on a thin metal sheet that attached the oven to the wall. The fan was causing the sheet to vibrate and that was making this godawful noise...
I mean fucking hell, it was a 2 minute fix to prevent this horrnedous grinding sound and it appeared that it hadn't occurred to any one working there that it could:
a) Be doing their own heads in and should be fixed
b) Doing their customers heads in and should be fixed
Well it continued and I was reaching the point of explosion when a staff member turned the stereo on - and then, apparently noticing that the sound of the fan was LOUDER than the fucking stereo, turned the fan off...
IT WAS VERY VERY WIERD!!!!!
Anyway, today it was another scorcher and with the weather forecast saying more of the same well into next week (FUCKING A!!!), I dug our horrible cheap plastic very chavvy fan out of the box room and set it running...
'LOOK MRS GIOVANNI!!' I yelled, feeling enormously pleased with myself 'I'VE MANAGED TO TURN THE FUCKING FAN ON, WITHOUT KEEPING HALF OF EAST LONDON IN A STATE OF MENTAL TORTURE!!!!!'
'Well, aren't you a clever boy.' she said 'Now make me a herbal tea, I have a terrible headache..'
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