my "friend" brendan

It looks like today is going to be one of those 'avoid Brendan' days: he's actually outside my flat as I'm typing this, shouting up at my window...

my friend Brendan

The trouble with Brendan - apart from the fact that he's insane - is that he's from Texas. He's stereotypical. He knows everything about every-thing, has done everything you've done, only better, and insists on shaking your hand every three minutes, for absolutely no reason whatsoever. "Good job," he'll say. Then a couple of minutes later you might, for instance, notice a seagull standing on a motorbike seat, shitting. Point this fact out to Brendan and his hand'll be out again, waiting for another shake.

"Good job, mate! Good bloody job."

Actually that's another Brendan thing... overuse of the words 'mate' and 'bloody'. And the word 'quid', too. It makes him feel more English I suppose.

He pretends he's a doctor, as well. He claims he was a flying doctor in Australia for a while (yeah, right), and then moved here, to Hastings of all places, to work in the local hospital. He's actually got a proper 'doctor bag' with all sorts of can't-buy-it-in-a-chemist medical stuff inside, but it's all way, way past its use-by-date. So maybe he was once some kind of doctor, maybe not. One thing though: he sure as hell isn't now... he sells dodgy computer equipment (I've seen his car stuffed full of monitors).

Oh, hang on, he's stopped shouting now. (I'd better keep away from the window though, cos he'll be watching from somewhere).

top | back to seethru zine	the whole week » 1 2 3 4 5
talk about the south coast diaries »

[home] [zine] [music] [weblog] [games] [e-cards] [shop] [talk]
[about us] [what's new] [site manifesto] [email us]

all content © 2002 seethru.co.uk : all the usual rights : hosted by mirahost