7 August 2017

Letter Home

Drank a little with my mom and Reggie yesterday. Sonja on the red, scotch for me, beer for my mom, Reggie on the rum. Martinis at 5:00.

Red moon when the sun went down.

After a time my mom disappeared for a spell and when she reappeared she produced an old air mail envelope postmarked 9 SEP 1976. Addressed to my mom and Beer Sr. Written by Beer Jr.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I've been in school a week now. The amount of fucking homework is stupendous. Teachers and my fellow students say it hasn't even started yet.

My subjects are English and European History (1603 - 1715); Geography - physical, climatology and mapwork; English - Shakespeare, short stories, Milton and poetry. Those are my A levels. In  addition to those I am taking Political Science and General Studies. English kids' studies are too advanced for me in every other subject offered but I should be able to ace all that shit.

The guys in school are super. Everybody is a fucking rocker like me. Going to die young or get crippled trying.

The teachers don't like to come down to your level and talk to you. Very academic.  Make me write everything with an ink pen. They all go the pub every day for lunch.

Weather is very warm!

I received Axel's letter. Tell him to try not to drink as much as his big brother.

I'm in the pool tourney with one of the lads and his girlfriend at the Nag's Head tomorrow. Eight Ball is new to them so maybe I will show them up.

I just finished reading 75 pages of a book called "Introducing Shakespeare." Fucking English think they invented the language. Shakespeare is ok but he is no Hunter S. Thompson.

During games period Wednesday afternoons I am playing field hockey. I scored 3 goals today and added an assist. (A star is born!) They don't know shit about hockey in this country. All they know is football and they aren't even that good at that.

I took the wrong bus home from the pub yesterday. When I asked somebody where the fuck I was when I got off they could not understand me because of my Canadian accent.

I went into London last weekend. The English people seem concerned about all the wogs in their country. That's what they call darkies here. Wogs. I don't think I would want to be a wog in this country.

Saw Piccadilly, Oxford Street, Carnaby Street - all tourist shit. Saw one of the Queen's cars too - or it could have been a decoy. Fucking Roller - all the windows smoked in. The IRA want to fuck her up. I don't know what they are waiting for.

We went to a pub and drank 18% beer. That was fucking excellent. I didn't even heave until I had to roll down the car window on the way home and paint a flame down the side of their car. Fuckers must have wanted me to heave making drink beer like that.

Let me know how the Canucks are doing next time you write. Crap I'll bet. Those motherfuckers are never going to win shit!




Anonymous said...

WTF, beer.

Huge fire at Abbotsford mill the other night.

Let us know you are okay, looks like the place is toast.

- Jonku

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Not often a mill does not burn down at 3:00AM, the customary arsonist hour. Pretty spectacular show: nothing beats the sight of a lumber mill going up in flames. I, alas, will be at work of Friday morning and, in all likelihood, many Fridays henceforth.