I love Newcastle and its skip rats
Last year I was working in this small restaurant clapped onto the side of this pub in a very charvery area. The restaurant was nice enough and I was often working the weekends doing split shifts.

Came in on a sunday morning to be told there was a wedding reception being held in the restaurant. So I walked through ready to start work to be greeted by the union of two skip rat families. The bride was the first thing I saw... I say thing because she was a clear winner of Miss Cancer Face Burn Victim Uglyness UK.

There she was fat as they come with her feet up on the table swinging the chair on two legs, her tiara was wonky and she had a gravy stain on the mammoth tit part of her net curtain dress. Clutched in her meat hook was a barcadi breezer with a pink straw in it (for special occasions). Surrounded by bridesmaids you would usually find stood about in the bus stops of toon.

The groom was covered in tattoos but was actually quite a nice guy. Unfortuntaly for him he had decided of an early age to do his own tattoos with a needle and biro ink, so they all appeared dirty blue and said things like "Dazza".

I set to work clearing the chicken dinner plates away from next to the bride when she delivers the immortal line...
"I'm fucking sick of me dress man, I'm fucking sweatin me tits off." she then picks up a bit off yorkshire pudding and lobs it at "Dazza", he turns round and she says
"Dazza man fucking gan get us anuva drink man its me wedding daaayy" which warrants the reply
"fuck off yee lazy bitch"

The conversation continued in this hilarious vein till late into the night. Eventually they were turfed out back to byker but not till I was greeted to the sight of the head bridecharver getting pied by the grooms brother against the window whilst finishing her pint!

Skip rats I salute you!
(Manatee Fondler, Fri 15 Jul 2005, 15:33, Reply)