This week we visit the weirdest village on the planet. Sheep chasing, in-breeding and wife swapping are the norms around this area, and this pub earns its entry on past glories, rather than what goes on now. Don't get me wrong, it is still a mighty fine place to get shit faced, but with most of the bender squad having moved more than a £10 in a taxi trip away, it is difficult to get everyone over there at once, even though Andy the landlord is a good lad. I am of course talking about the Villager in Wilsden. For those of you old enough to remember, it started out as Wilsden working men's club, a.k.a. the Strugglers. It's heyday was the late eighties/early nineties, when well known knob head The Duke held forth as the landlord. A true eccentric, he was hit and miss, staying open all day Sundays, when pubs were supposed to close for the afternoon, and constantly on the look out for signs of drug use. One of the greatest moments was the mini riot started by some knob head during the first England game of the 1998 World cup, which ended with Dutch in shackles, being carted off in a fluorescent jam sandwich. Sadly this resulted in his banishment for life, well at least until the Duke left. King of the Pixies, Helmet, Jamon, Mad Ad, Mallky and Grande Queso have all served suspensions, for various misdemeanours, mainly the fighting variety. Lobon used to spin the wheels of steel every Saturday, and Sundays were drink yourself stupid day. Memorable moments include the Funky Pedestrian gipping on the floor after trying to drink 6 pints in one hour, the time I knocked some kid clean out the door, and then tossed him his crying girlfriend as he lay on the floor. There was the time me, the boy and Gster managed to plow through three bottles of Jim Beam in one session, and Grande Queso kicking off with several people, including on one occasion himself. Lobleys bird busting into the place and calling him out as the father of her child, the Duke hitting the panic button whenever a fight broke out and his drug testing trick of all of a sudden leaning over the bar to pry open your eye's and stare into them. It was after a session in the Villager that Jamon went back to San's and managed to puke and poop all over the bathroom. This lead to Crespo's immortal line of "Here, this puke smells like shit!" after the aforementioned Jamon made a break for the exit. It was also poor old Crespo who had to sort out Caroline after she landed on a flowerpot and cut open her arse. Funky P crashed his car on two occasions after too much booze, the first time taking out his neighbours car and wall, after responding to my put down of his driving. When I told him his fast driving was impressing nobody, he sped full throttle down his street, panicked, and drove straight in to a parked car pushing it through a wall. His second mishap nearly resulted in him becoming the Funky Angel, after his car burst into flames when he hit a wall. Ironically a passing pedestrian rescued him. Skidley now sports a fetching vagina on his head after Ropey took out several motors after one to many Guinness's. It was here Beaker tried to glass me with a pile of minute pieces of glass, and Spunky Monkeys then girlfriend took him out with a bottle of Budweiser. Gster dished out the clothes line from hell, and nearly killed some punk who was hassling the boy. One New Years Day, when Kev Osbourne had become landlord, we decided to pass the time by playing stupid drinking games, and we set up a swear jug to pay for a round of shooters at the end of the night. After four hours of binging a drunken Dazzler shouted out "Arse, shit, fuck!" threw all his money into the swear mug and passed out, whence Jamon put him in a corner to sleep it off and left a trail of dry roasted peanuts back to the bar so he could find his way back when he awoke. These are just the drunken japes and shenanigans that spring to mind, there are countless more that have passed into oblivion. Safe to say the last bender I had in there, on Saint Pats day earlier this year with Crespo and Shouty, Young Paul kicked off and smacked some geezer twice his size. Some places never change. Location
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Tuesday, July 31, 2007
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2 comments:
Oh the memories, you forgot the time Mr Nossel got eight balled by Mad Ad and bunny hopped round the pool table twice with his pants down,To add to stupid barrings ,I myself along with Patti found myself barred one christmas after getting wrecked and singing carols through the weirdo neighbours letterbox .this resulted in a visit from our friendly neighbourhood cunt-stulbes.
I forgot to mention Gwens legendary rendition of Bjorks "Its all so quiet" That is worth videoing for sure.
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