The Whit Monday "Brap" Story

To make up for the general lethargy I've exhibited this past few days, I'm back on the case and gunning to make it up.

By the way, I will be interspersing this piece with photos of people I will have shot when I come to power. As it is these people that not only represent everything thats gone wrong in this country, but also one of their kind was the aggressor in this story. They are also the people I mentioned in my early drugs issue post, ala this dickhead >

Firstly, As we all know, my Whit Monday was eventful to say the least, I had a slow start but certainly made up for it thanks to D.O. , Mike v2.0, Sarah and Adam.

Adam, especially had a great story to tell me when I arrived on the battlefield mid-afternoon. Given that this day in particular, is the only day in the year where drinking is allowed on the streets of the town, and one of the few where the pubs never close, you can certainly imagine the sordid display that occurs as everybody for ten miles shows up in a town roughly the size of a '98 Renault Clio.

The pubs open their doors around 11am, and being in Britain, they are almost instantaneously full. By 11.30, everyone is plastered. I'm not sure why this occurs. We've always been a warlike race of people so I imagine that on a day of all day drinking, it only truly makes sense to get battered in the first half hour if you are looking for a particuarly large fight. This is generally what happens.

And so it was, that at 1.00 pm, a mere two hours after the pubs opened, Adam witnessed a fight at a cash machine across the street. As you may imagine it starts with one very drunk man standing behind another, before deciding the guy in front is a prick. He just is.

Cue the pointless swearing and stupid non-sensical insults that have become a staple of British culture; "You fucking prick", "I'll fuck your Mum", "Look at you, with your gay hair" and "I'll slap you with a razor" are just a few choice examples Adam and I have heard on our travels.

You see if you're not British you may not know this, but we're all hard, even if we're not. It's a state of mind I've witnessed nowhere else in the world. Too much ego-fuelled black rap music has encouraged two whole generations to believe that they are an amalgamation of every tough film character ever they've ever seen and as a result, they can do whatever the fuck they like because no-one is tough enough to stop them. The chap to the right, clearly has this delusion.

Anyway, I digress, the name calling didn't last long, because a full scale brawl broke out before the aggressor, who was a total dickhead, got dragged off his victim, who I imagine was a bit of a dickhead also. As the angry man's friends dragged him off down the street before the riot van arrived and a large man with a single rubber glove turned up, he decided his caveman style chest beating display wasn't over yet.

Let's stop here for a moment, to reflect, if the following image is not the most ridculous thing you've ever seen in your life, I would be very, very surprised.

Back to the story;

He turns round, and across the length of the street, decides that the best way to mend his broken pride and display his power and dominance to his victim, was to shout at the top of his lungs [with a perfectly straight face]; "BRAP!" and pull two gun signs with his hands, which is the most ridiculous shit I've ever heard.

Brap is one of a few words I know that should come with a colour chart; "You must be THIS black to say this word". It is a word from a world and culture that a 30-something, middle-class, drunk, white man could never begin to comprehend.

When I'm Prime Minister of the World & The Moon, this whole thing is an issue I'll deal with very strongly. Tasers and guns for the police?.. sounds good to me.