Fuckin London man. Before we get tae what was a belter of a wrestling show, I’d like tae give ye a few tips on how tae survive this hunner mile an hour pit of terror if you’ve yet tae experience its wonder. Firstly, if ye get on the London Underground…that’s yer first mistake right there. Don’t dae it. I’d been on it 5 minutes, when it made its first stop and a wuman actually dragged her son aff the train by the throat. The problem wae that is that I was between her and her son and she managed tae drag him off without me moving. I swear tae fuck this wean passed through me like a fuckin ghost or somethin. A chill raced doon my spine as I seen him emerge fae me like I was a magic lamp, and he wis poppin oot tae grant somecunt three wishes. Second tip I’ll gie ye is for Scottish folk only. London does not go at our pace. Glesga pace is leisurely. Even if its gaun a bit quicker than ye’d like, naecunt will shoulder barge ye oot the road if you’re choosing tae cruise. Minimum speed for pedestrian travel in London is 50mph. Ye fall below that, cunts will make a point of clattering any luggage they have with them aff yer dome. If they knock a tooth out, they present it tae ye as a warning. “Speed up, or we take aw yer front teeth….warned”
I jest though. From the little I seen of it, London seemed gid. Its essentially Glasgow without the Sectarianism or sense of belonging. Its essentially Glasgow but bigger, faster and the supporters of English fitba teams are actually English and not glory hunting wanks. Its essentially Glesga but its no. Its just no. Its no Glesga.
Was heartening tae hear aw the ICW chants in the queue. The megabus destroyed me but, so I looked upon them less as “ICW Regulars” and more as “People I could lean on tae stop mysell falling through the bar like Del Boy done that time in Only Fools” So aye. A fuckin wrestling show eh. Long winded shite intro oot the road. Sorry for keepin ye fae the good stuff.
After the opening lingual delights fae yer Billy Kirkwood, he introduced his broadcast colleagues for the evening, yer Veronica LeStrange and the returning Dr Sean David. Proving that the combination of smashin patter, smashin dids and eh…Dr Sean David, gets over no matter where ye are. Then we had two former best pals knockin the shite out each other tae kick us off. Intae it? Course ye are.