I was riding home from a night out yesterday on the bus, listening to music and not paying attention to anything. As we we're at a bus stop, a girl started screaming her head off at the back of the bus and pointing out the window, as soon as I looked I saw 3 guys. One on the ground, bleeding everywhere, and saying "Please, I didn't mean it" over and over, one with a baseball bat, and one standing there yelling at the man on the ground. As soon as they realised there was a whole bus of people staring at them, the man who was yelling took a gun out and shot the man on the ground in the head. The bus instantly went up in screams, and the two men got in a car and sped away. As the bus driver called in for help, a third of the bus was screaming, a third calling 999 and the other third (including me) just staring silently.
Eventually they let us leave the scene after getting statements, and I finally got home around 2am. When I came home I was visibly shaken, and I told my Mum what I had just seen. Then all of a sudden my mom got scared, she said "You're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air." I whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license plate said "Fresh" and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare but I thought "Nah, forget it, Yo holmes, to Bel-Air!" I pulled up to the house about seven or eight and I yelled to the cabbie, "Yo holmes, smell ya later!" I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there, to sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air.
― Blair (Blair), Saturday, 3 February 2007 17:13 (eighteen years ago)
one month passes...
threads like this remind me why, despite everything, i love ILX.
― grimly fiendish, Monday, 5 March 2007 13:33 (eighteen years ago)
At three in the morning in Glasgow it's easy to get Bel-Air mixed up with Bellshill.
― Marcello Carlin, Monday, 5 March 2007 13:34 (eighteen years ago)
one year passes...
four years pass...
I've never been there, but this week's The Economist is chock full of quotable lines:
Adjusting for age, poverty and gender, Glasgow has more than twice as many deaths from drink and drugs as Liverpool and Manchester.
...
Glasgow is still feeling the after-effects of a particularly sudden industrial revolution in the 19th century, when rapid urbanisation cramped workers into unsanitary housing. There was often nowhere at home to sit down, so men did so in the pub and have been drinking hard ever since.
...
One theory is that Glaswegians are just gloomier than other Brits and put a lower price on the future. This manifests itself in, among other things, an excessive love of deep-fried Mars bars and other health-sapping delicacies.
...
It is as if a malign vapour rises from the Clyde at night and settles in the lungs of sleeping Glaswegians.
― The Painter of Blight™ (Sanpaku), Monday, 27 August 2012 01:09 (thirteen years ago)
I think I remember this being posted on the old Plan B board too. RIP old Plan B board. :'(
― tubular, mondo, gnabry (Merdeyeux), Monday, 27 August 2012 02:42 (thirteen years ago)
Just as I was thinking that Glasgow had changed a little bit since I was here the last time - because now there’s all these little places to put your cigarette out everywhere, and it says Keep Glasgow Clean and shit? - as I was walking into the Tron tonight, and it’s a beautiful theatre – a complete, smashed, thrown milkshake against the wall of the Tron. And that, to me, is Glasgow in a nutshell. I’m not certain what makes you angry while you’re drinking a milkshake. For me, I’ve always been perfectly happy, even at any stage of the milkshake. The initial first foreplay rush of “oh my god, I’ve got my milkshake,” and then “aahhh my brain it’s freezing I drank the first part too fast,” and then there’s the middle part where you’re “this is kinda samey but it’s icecream so I’m stickin’ with it,” and then there’s the last part of the milkshake where you’re like [snuffling noises], you’re searching for the last drops... at no point have I ever gone “FUCK THIS MILKSHAKE! And FUCK THIS WALL. This is where the fuckin’ stones meet this chocolate shake, I have HAD IT with delicious ice-cream flavoured beverages.”
But apparently in Glasgow they cause a little consternation, because I don’t know that I’ve ever been anywhere that there wasn’t a smashed milkshake in front of. And I believe that Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s first design was a field of fleur de lis with a smashed chocolate milkshake in front of it and a straw hanging out the top, and then a guy stepping a fag out on the top of that.
― itt: i forgot that he yells at a butt (sic), Monday, 27 August 2012 02:45 (thirteen years ago)
poor guy but nice for him that that was the worst thing that he had seen in glasgow or anywhere. i'd call that a charmed life.
― jed_, Monday, 27 August 2012 05:19 (thirteen years ago)