What Fresh Hell Is This...

Dean on Brighton beach with M.O.K tattoo

 Once again I travel to Brighton in the name of Dean. Once again I wake up with malnutritioned hangover shakes at 5am to find him smoking pot, watching Forest Gump, and calling me a pussy for sleeping. Once again we carry on drinking until he damages himself. And once again I listen and smile as he hatches evil evil unspeakable drunk plans agains all living beings in the vicinity... In fact, apart from the addition of Fab, the gambling addicted french housemate who plays Mario tunes on piano, and the fact that Dean actually threw up from the amount of alcohol he consumed (something that hasn't happened in 10 years, and officially relieves him of alcoholic status, pussy) this was pretty much the standard monthly Brighton visit I always get...

"Well being unemployed and wanking for weeks on end does get boring you know."

After 10 Pints, this guy can still play the best Mozart rendition I ever heard. It appears Dean has an aptitiude for music, managing to teach himself this piece, among others, having grown tired of... well... wanking and boozing.

Dean Smoking

M.O.K Tattoo

Whenever I have that moment of objective clarity, which tends to occur whenever i'm in the vicinity of Dean, his stoned as shit demeanour, and his inclination towards world and self destruction, I need only look down at this shitpiece tattoo that Ben gave me back in the Summer of '07 and remember why I'm here.

Dean smashing a glass over his head

Fab munching piano keys

Dean in the Cowley Club

The paradoxical nature of The Cowley Club, Brighton's anarchists club, is the fact that it's, well, an Anarchists... CLUB. Yes, you have to be a MEMBER to ENTER. Anarchy, right? This is undoubtedly the crowning achievement of retardation I have witnessed in a pretty long time and the sense of victory I felt when Dean managed to barter our entry inside was shortlived as I realised it was just a bar full of paranoid old hippies and extremely shit literature about sticking it to the man...

...of course Dean's fully aware that sticking it to the man is only really worthwhile when you're doing something jokes, like pissing in a doorway on a busy highstreet at 3pm on a Saturday afternoon.

Portrait of Dean, Pav Tav, Brighton.

Portrait of Chris, Oakford Social Club, Reading.