Character Of The Day: AngryBritain
“Despite being asked the question many times over the thirty-seven years I’ve spent on this earth, I am actually not ‘on drugs’ nor have I ever really had any interest. As a boy I was far more interested in the 50p cans of shit lager the bigger kids would buy the younger ones like me from the off licence opposite the youth club. Mum and dad used to dump me there on a Sunday night so they could have some ‘grown-up time’ (shudder).
Lager, especially cheap lager, is basically carbonated urine. Aged 18 with an active interest in army surplus clothing and Indie music, the natural progression was brown beer, followed by Newcastle Brown Ale because it was in Viz, and now at my drink of choice Guinness. I will drink wine sometimes, but that’s mostly to impress women/get them drunk quickly or to distract from the bad cooking and worse company at dinner parties.
The beautiful thing about about alcohol as oppose to drugs is that you can consume it in public and even in full view of the Police. Other than the one episode when I was very young where I ‘borrowed’ a plant from the local Civic Offices after a night on the brown beer, it’s never really got me into any trouble. To this day that plant is in a garden in the quiet South-East London street where I grew up. My mum really liked it until she found out where it came from.
So for the majority of my life I’ve never really had a problem with addiction. Two years ago I found Twitter and it’s all gone very, very wrong.
AngryBritain.com is the online home of fed-up Brits, a place to vent, rant and shout whatever you like about whoever you like, over the past eighteen months Twitter has become the website’s drug-addled naughty little brother. Much like heroin, I imagine, when I’m ‘chasing the Twitter’ I can’t really be held responsible for my actions and I’ll do anything for my next fix. Nine times out of ten I’ve already hit the ‘send’ button before I’ve actually thought about what I’ve written – you just ask Katie Price. She loves me, almost as much as she loves Dwight Yorke.
How I’ve managed to avoid being sued up until now is nothing short of miracle really, I guess mostly it’s because I’m anonymous, nobody knows who I am, what I look like or where to find me. And now Chris Floyd has ruined it. After this exhibition closes you’ll probably find me penniless, homeless and sleeping in a piss soaked cardboard box under Embankment swearing at commuters and trying to jab my iPhone into an artery for that one last Twitter fix.”