TUESDAY 28th JULY
I’m away in Ibiza at the moment – which probably comes as no surprise as it’s like my second home in the summer – and my good friend Dale is with me. The shaven-headed lothario grabbed a last minute flight because he couldn’t stand seeing my shameless Facebook status updates talking about the White Isle and we flew out on Sunday night.
*****
As ever, we got right royally stuck into the booze as soon as we arrived and did the usual dash around the bars and clubs to see the familiar faces before ending up at Judgement Sunday at Eden. We managed to get VIP courtesy of my good friend Alex, the resident DJ and such an incredibly awesome person, and we headed for the back room where Telford legend Micky Slim was ripping the place apart.
We were chatting to his brother and his mates and we went into the DJ box for a photo. I’d only met Micky once before (here in Ibiza funnily enough) but he said “Hello Geoff” while I was expecting he wouldn’t know who the fuck I was – why would he know? At best, I might have expected him to shout: Wanker!
Judge Jules then came and followed Micky in the back room and this lady took photos of us with him in between mixing. We had a bit of a drunken random chat, as you do in Ibiza, and fortunately I wasn’t trying to chat her up as she subsequently revealed she was Mrs Judge Jules! I didn’t recognise her because she’s changed a bit from when she was making records with Angelic back a decade or so ago.
I also bumped into the midget from my last trip but didn’t tell him I made a poor taste joke at his expense on the previous blog.
*****
There’ll be more Ibiza-related nonsense in the blog next week I imagine as I haven’t got the time nor the inclination now. Photos from this trip will be in the gallery at www.djwanker.com at some point – you can also head there to see the latest ones from Pussycats.
*****
My car is being fixed while I’m away so I’ve had to hire a car to get me to and from Telford. The cheap option was a Ford Ka – a motor designed for women or blokes under five foot – not for a guy my shape and size. It was a nightmare journey over with the traffic as it was and being sat in a cramped little vehicle does nothing to keep you calm in mile after mile of slow-moving cars.
I probably look like Mr Bean in that damn motor.
*****
I’ve not been stopped by a police car for a long time – probably due to the fine nature of my driving – but I got pulled over as I was driving home to the crib from Pussycats last Friday. I noticed I was being followed as I headed up from Ketley Brook roundabout and they eventually whacked on the flashing lights.
Being the law-abiding citizen I am, I found a safe place to pull in and got out of the car and the officer and I shared the following dialogue.
Nice copper: “Is this your car, sir?”
Now obviously I wasn’t driving my own car, being sat in this poxy hire car, so I replied: “No, this is a rented car.”
Nice copper: “Have you any idea why we pulled you over?”
All kind of sarcastic answers flashed through my mind. “Was it because you wanted to applaud me on my fine driving and that I was putting the rest of the motoring community in Telford, including your good selves, to utter shame?”
Some people reckon they give it the large one with policemen when they get stopped. I don’t see the point. It’s only likely to antagonise them and politeness gets you much further in life. I know that may sound a bit rich given some of my trademark rude foul-mouthed behaviour but when it comes to the long arm of the law, it’s always best to act dumb. Or if you’re going to say something cheeky, make it amusing. So back to the story…
Nice copper: “Have you any idea why we pulled you over?”
Me: “No I haven’t, sir.”
At this point I took a risk and added: “Is it because you can’t believe a man of my size is driving a car so small?”
Fortunately he smiled at that and continued: “You were driving excessively above the speed limit. You were doing 50 in a 40. Have you been drinking?” I said: “No” which was true as I don’t drink at work and he took me at my word and sent me on my way, reminding me to take it steady.
I could’ve debated the point about doing 50 in a 40 on a single carriageway at 4am with nothing else on the road and said: “It’s hardly excessive” but when you’re trying to avoid getting a ticket, it’s a good idea to agree and look forlorn.
There’s an old joke about a man driving and seeing the blue flashing lights in his rear view mirror. He puts his foot down and a chase ensues. The coppers eventually pull him over and ask him why he didn’t stop.
The driver replies: “Well my wife ran off with a policeman and I was worried you were bringing her back!”
*****
That, my friend, is the size of it for this week – just a short one by my own usual waffling standards – as there is alcohol to drink, sun to worship, Dale’s farts to avoid and parties to attend. It’s Ibiza 2009 part four and we’re having fun. Back in time for the weekend, of course.
Peace.
Cheers for now,
Geoff / DJ Wanker
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