Metro Ramblings

There’s a Free Newspaper available to Tube and train travellers in London called the Metro, which you can grab on your way to work Monday to Friday. It is used more as a device to bury your face in rather than a News source, as talking, eye contact, and smiling are all fineable offences on London transport.

Traditionally I haven’t been able to plunder the literary depths of this editorial masterpiece as I only had an 11 minute train ride to work. Now that it takes two trains, three buses and a Hovercraft to get to my place of vocation I have more than enough time to fully emerge myself in the allegorical soup of British Journalism. So what did I find in Friday’s Metro?

Front page headline:

Tornado tears through London

"Millions of pounds of damage was caused to dozens of houses as a tornado swept through North London yesterday"

Blah, blah, blah I live in South London so who gives a fuck. The sports section consisted of one full page on Manchester United, one page on Chelsea, and one on Arsenal. Information on the other 17 football teams could be found in a paragraph under the Lotto results.

There was an article on Pete Doherty, because there is always an article on Pete Doherty. Every single fucking day. This time it wasn’t about Pete getting fucked up on drugs and doing something stupid, but about his actor mate Mark Blanco. Who got fucked up on drugs and fell out of a third story balcony and died. He’s only a stage actor (if that) so you probably have never heard of him. And unless he gets cast in the lead role of the Weekend at Bernie’s musical, you won’t be hearing from him anytime soon.

Here’s an excellent Metro snippet:

"A Woman coughed up an air rifle pellet – 21 years after her brother shot her in the face."

Also: Britain’s youngest publican has had his inn keeping licence taken away because, well, he is too young. Council officials have said that Chris Hardacre, 12, cannot serve at the pub because of child employment laws. He is eligible to regain the licence next year when he turns 13. Duh. I might go drink at his pub when he hits the big one three next year. I’m going to get liquored up and tease him about his braces, then leave in tears when he beats me at arm wrestling. I’m so jealous of his last name. “Hardacre”, little bastard should have grown up and become a tough-arse detective.

And finally, Friday’s interview of the day was with Dave "Death Wish" Legeno, professional Cage Fighter. When questioned about his early days when flashy entrances were all the rage, Death Wish (as he is more affectionately known) had this to say:

"I’d come on dressed as a priest with two sexy nuns carrying a Samurai’s head."

Easily one of the best quotes of the year. Merry Christmas "Death Wish", and a Happy New Year to you too.