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Another Cock & Ball Story

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We haven’t heard from our dear friend Frank for quite a while now.He is most likely to the Grand Tour of Europe on Lady Nina,but wherever he is,he has my best wishes and I hope he knows how much we miss him.

Anyway,here is an old post from him that reminds us of his genius.

 

 

Frank looks back, more in sorrow than in anger, to re-tell a chilling tale of a long-lost summer of love, a terrible betrayal and lots of super furry animals.

I was mugged in Seven Sisters.

To be accurate I was attacked in Seven Sisters since nothing was stolen.

Cold bloodedly gratuitously attacked.  A summer afternoon several decades ago spent with a friend and I was heading home to Tufnell Park.  It was an early evening in July but I could hardly see as I turned into the tunnel heading for the tube, eating sausage and chips.  Out of nowhere something hit me on the back of the head and just as I turned, a fist hit me in the mouth.  I fell to the ground in a daze and the protagonists proceeded to kick the living shit out of me.

There was a lot a ‘fackin this’ and ‘kantin that’ as the boots went in and afterwards just the sound of nasal snickering.  Before I passed out I caught a glimpse of two of them.  One in white trousers and a bowler hat with ‘Tottenham Droogies’ written across the back.  The other had calf-length faded jeans, docs, white tee shirt, braces …. and a tattoo on his forearm.

A tattoo of a cock and ball.

I must have been out for a while because when I woke up, the ends of the tunnel were dark.  The reek of urine and unwashed bodies was only just bearable.  I was surrounded by squashed chips and, nestling in the gutter by the wall with not a bite out of it, was my sausage.  My head hurt like hell, split lip, bumps and bruises all over but I seemed to be OK.

I’d got away with it.

Could have been killed.  Could have been maimed or paralyzed for life.  Thankfully I had done what most blokes who are being kicked in the head do, I protected my privates.  Death is preferable to castration.

I had survived.

Slowly I got up.  I just wanted to get home.  Brushed off the fag ends, chewing gum, dog shit.  Stretched out my arms and then my legs, moved my head from side to side.  Tested my aching bones.  Nothing broken.  Lets go home, Frank.  Then someone behind me coughed.

I spun round afraid that they had come back to finish me off.

But there standing in front of me was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.  She had on an ankle length yellow dress and sandals.  She had long, long tresses of red hair and her smile was extraordinary; it could fill a room, or, in this case, a tunnel.  Her smell was intoxicating and as she touched my face with her hand I just knew that she was an angel.

I was dead and on my way to heaven.

She asked me if I was okay.  She asked me if I was in pain.  She asked if there was anything she could do for me … and before I could answer she passed me her guinea pig and started mopping my brow.

Guinea pig?

What the fuck?

She gave me a guinea pig?  Well yes she did.  She handed me her guinea pig.  Cleaned me up.  Took her guinea pig back.  Held my hand and took me to Tufnell Park.

That is how I met Maude.

Oh Maude, Maude, Maude – you were perfect.  She took me home to my apartment and stayed for three weeks.  What a three weeks!

Idyllic.

Walking on the Heath.  Drinking in The Flask in Highgate.  Strolling through Waterlow Park.  Saying “hello” to Karl Marx.  Wearing each others’ clothes.

Actually she wore mine, I didn’t wear hers, I really didn’t.  Getting drunk together on Grand Marnier and sick together afterwards.  Listening to a friend play folk songs outside the Admiral Mann.  I even started to read poetry, although it didn’t last.  Mostly though, we just made love.  Anywhere and everywhere.

In that time I was treated to a parade of animals.

Guinea pigs, rats, hamsters, geckos, turtles, tortoises, parrots, budgies, kittens, puppies, fish, snakes, you name it.

Every day she would disappear for a few hours and return with different animals.  Only on Sundays would she return without an animal and on Sunday evenings she was always very tired.  The explanation turned out to be a bit crazy but I could deal with it.  She let on that she was into animal liberation and spent much of her time nicking animals from pet shops and domestic animal stockists.

Her aim in life was to free them all.

Create an animal utopia where they could all live free from human bondage.  How she managed to get plastic bags of tropical fish and a twelve foot python out of a shop without anyone noticing I have no idea.  But she did it.  Insane of course, and I loved her all the more for it.  We were madly, stupidly, giddily happy.

Until that fateful day in early August.

So far we had lived in my flat.  It was OK.  But I was getting more and more curious.  Where did she live?  How long?  What was it like?  Was she sure that she was not using the animals as a cover for her sneaking back to a long time live-in partner or husband?

Joke, sort of.  What was she hiding?

After much cajoling on my part she finally agreed that we could stay at her place.  She lived in a flat on the first floor of a Victorian house on the A10 near to the junction with Clapton Common.  She had been on her way home when she found me in the tunnel.

So off we went.

We spent a pleasant few hours in the Spaniards’ Inn and went to a party with friends in Stoke Newington.  Caught a taxi to hers.  Let ourselves in.

Her living room was full of no-longer-soon-to-be-pets.

It was smelly and it was noisy, but she cleared a space  and we sat and drank tea and chatted amongst the boxes, cages, baskets and tanks.  Finally we fell into bed exhausted.  The following day was Monday and neither of us needed to get up early.  We were very soon fast asleep in each others arms.

We awoke on Monday morning refreshed.  She made cups of tea and brought them back to bed.  Gradually we began to get interested, the way you do.

We kissed and cuddled …

Then Maude whispered that she would like to make love in daylight amongst the trees and birdsong.  Her garden was beautiful at this time of year, she said.  She asked me to open the curtains and open the window.

Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.

About as excited as I have ever been in my life I leapt out of bed, hopped to the almost full-length sash window and threw open the red velvet curtains to let the sun in …

The No 149 bus route has been transporting the residents of that area to the City for many years and I believe that it still does to this day.

In the days of the old Routemasters, in the rush hour the bottom deck was crammed full of people, many standing and some dangling from the platform at the back.  Upstairs was calmer and those fortunate enough to get a seat were able to read the paper or a book, do the crossword, do the Pools, knit, or in most cases just sit and watch the world go by.  There are a number of points on that journey where the bus comes to a standstill for quite a while as the traffic gets well and truly jammed.

One particular point is just outside Maude’s flat.

The floor of the top deck on those buses is roughly about the level of the first floor of that particular block of houses, and the windows of the bus are about six feet from the residents’ windows.  You can see awful lot from the top of that bus and on that day passengers had a real treat.

As the curtains opened they were greeted with … think of Leonardo’s Study of Human Proportions according to Vitruvius. 

But weedier and in a state of arousal.

For my own part I just remember seeing an endless stream of tickets coming out of the Clippie’s machine and thinking thank goodness they can’t see my feet because I’ve still got my socks on.  I turned to shout at Maude for setting me up, and as I did so I noticed something.  Something very serious indeed.  Something which caused me to shut out the embarrassment of the last few seconds completely.  I couldn’t believe it.  I froze.  The blood drained from my face and obviously from other places.

The bottom fell completely out of my world.

In the lower right hand corner of the window was a sticker.  Not a very big one, about the size of a bob-a-job sticker.  But this particular sticker had a motif on it.  A dreadful symbol.

A cock and ball.

We just hadn’t discussed football.  People had the summer off in those days.  No transfer activity.  I turned to her and just shouted “TOTTENHAM” at her at the top of my voice.  At first she completely misunderstood and she laughed and shouted:  “YES. YOU TOO …?”.

But before she could finish, she realised.

It was probably me screaming “YOU ARE A FUCKING SPUD” that gave it away.  Her beautiful face contorted into an ugly grimace and in a vicious whisper she spat “Arsenal.  You are a fucking Gunner?  You bastard”.

I couldn’t stay.

I needed air.  I grabbed my clothes, putting them on as I scrambled through the menagerie in the living room.  I got to the front door and slammed it to, shutting out the cacophony behind me.  I headed for a café on the corner of the block, ordered coffee and just sat in a window seat sipping and smoking.  I half expected her to follow and to be honest I half hoped that she would.

But I realised it was over.

I could take the pet rustling and I could even take being humiliated in front of a bus full of people but I could not take the fact that she was a SPUD.  That could never work.

But that was not quite the end of it.

As I sipped my third coffee, having smoked half a pack of cigarettes, two panda cars and a police van arrived at her flat.  Maude was led out in handcuffs and for the next hour policemen loaded the back of the van with her contraband, Noah’s Ark fashion.  I felt bad about that at the time as I watched her driven away in the back of the police car it seemed unjust that she should go down for stealing animals when she had such good if not misguided intentions.  It turned out in court about six weeks later though, that every Sunday she ran a pet stall on Club Row.

She had been nicking pets and flogging them on.  She also stole them to order.

I will always remember Maude though and if I ever meet her again, which is very unlikely, I know exactly what I will say to her……………

“CARMON ARSENAL CARMON ARSENAL CARMON ARSENAL

ARSENAL, ARSENAL, ARSENAL….ARSENAL, ARSENAL, ARSENAAAAL…ARSENAL, ARSENAL, ARSENAL….ARSENAL….ARSENAL”

 

About ArsenalAndrew

Annoying, perennial optimist and lifelong supporter of the finest football club the world has ever seen. My support for the club manager and every single player is non-negotiable, yesterday, today and tomorrow. Retain all options on fellow fans.

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133 comments on “Another Cock & Ball Story

  1. No cigar…
    We played with enough heart to be encouraged.
    Rambo was my MOTM.
    10 games to go.
    Should be fun…RASERS

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  2. Sorry to hear you’re having a bad time Passenel, hope things improve for you.

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  3. We quite clearly need a quality DM.
    t shouldn’t take more than 7 players to attack & score…
    DM + 2CBs should always maintain defence…

    Again for me Jenks’ inexperience cost us twice.
    Sigurdsson & Parker should not have been allowed to pass..

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  4. Well that was not what was required. We played well apart from 2 sloppy goals conceded. Ramsey is becoming a very good versatile player. My MoTM.

    Onwards & Upwards. Still along way to go this season.

    ARSENAL ARSENAL ARSENAL

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  5. 10-match winning run now, boys.

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  6. HEy HO, bit of a bugger to lose to them as always but as folk have already said we weren’t awful for much of the match outside of that short period gifting them a couple of goals.

    But, what folk here know is that they remain here because they are not so fickle as to allow a single result to affect how they think nor, indeed, what they know. They know that things remain nowhere near as bad as some may be saying and, infact that things remain on course in the scheme of things. They also know that Piers Morgan remains a turdbucket.

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  7. > They also know that Piers Morgan remains a turdbucket.

    A bit polite but I agree with the sentiment entirely.

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  8. Tottenham have some tough games coming up Inter twice with an away trip to Liverpool sandwiched in between, Lets hope Pool can do us a favor and Swansea and Fulham can take points off of them. In April they have Everton, Chelsea, Man city and Wigan. see some dropped points there.
    I hope the spuds have to build their own stadium in the future, then we will see if they can maintain a high league position whilst financing a re-build.

    Don’t worry too much about this result, we are well placed as a club of the future, it’s just always hard to take a loss. Tottenham as a club are at their peak, they cannot climb much higher. We on the other hand will just keep getting stronger and stronger.

    We have to play the long game at the moment, patience is needed.

    Brilliant article by the way.

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  9. Thanks for the well-wishes, but it’s not so much for me, it’s people I know and care about getting devastating news, which has upset me.

    One of my neighbours has been setting off fireworks. I wonder if he’s a spud who is so chuffed at a rare victory that he’s getting carried away? I think AFC are taking this charity thing for the poor and unfortunate to the extreme! Stop giving away points now boys!

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  10. Evening everyone…unfortunate that and thought we gifted it to them when we were by far the better team…feel like individual errors have really been the undoing so far but despite that I’m still fully confident that we can overhaul them into the top 4

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  11. Sorry things aren’t going too well, Passenal. Hope that changes very soon.

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  12. Ah, didn’t see your 7:21pm comment, Passenal.

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  13. Pass – Sorry to hear things are not cheery even if it is your friends. This game could have been a tonic but such is life. We move on.

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  14. And now we’ve got to wait 10 days for our next game…sigh

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  15. The wait for the next game is going to be painful with so many seemingly revelling in declaring our season over right now…might avoid twitter for a few days

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  16. Passenal… Hope things get better for you and those you care about

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  17. Its going to be a long 2 weeks until the next League game.

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  18. Ok.who is up to bat tomorrow?

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  19. Hope you have a much better week PASSENAL.
    I thought over all we were the better team and play more efficiently specially when TOMAS came on. Two soft goals to give away. I think the guys got caught playing the offside trap.
    GAINS
    by no means am I having a go at AARON. I think he a ver good game and I love the kid for his toughness coming back from a devastating injury. I have higher hopes for him.
    I just think he might have taken his chance better from that beautiful
    Pass from TOMAS. Handful of games left. Hope to see the best from
    the crew to the end…
    UP THE ARSENAL!!!!!!!!

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  20. Dearie me,that was close.We were the better side. Two crap defensive moments. They will probably lose against Liverpool. We just have to keep going and most of all ignore the complete and utter crap people talk.

    We beat the Spuds 6-3 this season and we will be ahead of them at the end of the season.

    Arsenal.

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  21. I blame Lady Nina

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  22. @ Frank,

    6-4

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  23. God bless you Frank. We were by far the better side, we ran them ragged for over half an hour. Those eejits eulogising Sp**s can f*ck right off. I wasn’t impressed by them at all. The wheels may yet come off that trolley. Gifted the goals in the first half or this would have been a totally different story.

    Still time and I still believe in this team.

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  24. Did anyone else think Adebeyor should of seen red for that dive? Clattenburg bottled it for some reason.

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  25. We have played worse and earned more points
    I can’t remember us playing better and getting nil points
    No gripes at any player today – at times no handbrake, foot brake or gravity

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  26. The gates of doom have opened everywhere else it seems. As expected. I have no gripes either ‘Coll, these games are always on a knife edge, and truth to tell I was feeling really comfortable until they scored.

    I shall descend to the anti-media fallout bunker for a few days methinks, save for visits to PA.

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  27. “I shall descend to the anti-media fallout bunker for a few days methinks, save for visits to PA.”

    I think I will follow your advice Harry.

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  28. Sadly it’s the best advice I can offer Passenal. ‘Til the dust settles at least. Just read your earlier posts btw…hope things look brighter soon.

    Arsenal.

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  29. I don’t think so children

    Clearly the post match barrage has been launched – mostly of targets the coordinates of which were long programmed into the guns

    That is over

    We are out of our bunker

    We have a fine football team

    The machine guns work and the wire is intact

    Cut em down – Swansea next

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  30. they stole the match with two goals /mistakes … we were still the better team.. many games till the end.. fuck the media

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  31. Someone just tried to post this

    *Wenger out HAHA”

    Clearly an intellectual colossus .See what we are missing here?

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  32. Why the haha? Someone enjoying us not winning? Surely can’t be a Gooner then.

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  33. I simply cannot fathom, at how a so-called Arsenal fan, could be happy, at seeing Arsenal lose to the Spuds…
    There are some very sad people out there, masquerading as Gooners…

    Like

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