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I was told this story through a friend, one night when I was hanging out in Aberdeen as a student. It was about the university rugby team. So I don’t know the exact people / person of interest in the tale, as I heard it through somebody else. But, yeah: the university had its own rugby team, who played on Saturdays. And, the rugby team had had a match one weekend against their arch rivals, the Robert Gordon team, who were from the university the other side of the city. And, they won. All of the lads were jubilant and so they decided to go out that night after the game, and get very drunk. They dressed up for it in kilts, you know, the whole traditional Scottish thing, to make a big deal out of it. And got royally drunk at the bar / restaurant next to the campus. And at the restaurant there was this waitress who all of them fancied. They noticed her a lot when she brought them drinks and food. And they were all egging each other on to try and talk to her, or do something to charm her. That laddish shit. And, being exquisitely drunk, one of the lads came up with his own idea. Because he was wearing a kilt, it was easy to take his boxers off. So he took his underwear off under the table. And, the next time the waitress came back to the table, he got up on the table, lifted his kilt up, and slapped her in the face with his p*nis. Yep. He actually did that. He aimed and hit her with his private part. I don’t know how the lads reacted to it. But the girl was obviously mortified, and she ran away and told her boss about it. The boss called the police. And they arrested the lad who did it. For sexual assault. He was charged with it, eventually. And he also got kicked off his course at university. I’ve heard a few other obscene stories like this, ‘campus stories’ of a similar nature: but this has to be one of the worst. I’ve always fucking hated that lad behaviour, from young men who carouse around. Always made me want to puke. Can you imagine how that waitress felt? To have that happen to you, in public, in a room full of oafish big men? Jesus. It will have damaged her for life. And, as for the lad that did it – why was he even at university in the first place, if he was that thick? He didn’t deserve higher education. Fuck him. He’ll just have to live with the consequences of his horrific action.

[harrison-abbott]

My Dad and his family (his partner and my half sister) have a flat the other side of Edinburgh. A long time ago, maybe fifteen years back, they left their flat one Saturday to head to a fair that was going on in town. So they went along to the fair and returned home a few hours later, on what was a normal Saturday, and my half sister went into the front garden, whilst my Dad and his partner went into the flat block and then up to the flat door. Where they discovered that the door had been bust open …

Shocked, my Dad went inside, and he found a man standing in the hallway – a stranger who he’d never seen before. My Dad instantly went and tackled him. Whilst my Dad’s partner went and told my sister to stay in the garden. My Dad and the stranger fought. I wasn’t there so I don’t really know the details from what my father told me; that he had the man by the legs and wouldn’t let go; that the man picked something off a nearby shelf and beat my father over the head with it; that at some point my father blacked out; but that he woke up: and he managed to whack the guy in the balls at some point. But the man got away. And whilst he was running out, he grabbed my Dad’s partner’s purse and escaped with it.

Horrible. Sick shit. They called the police. [I think they finally managed to identify who had broken in. Who was ‘known to the police’ with a history. Because he had a right ugly mug, and my Dad was able to recognise him in the photos they showed him. So, he was charged, in the end.]

But, anyway. After the police came, they brought with them a bunch of CSI guys to, well, investigate the flat, with their white suits and their gloves and so on. So, whist father and the family were distraught and traumatised by the incident, there were these chaps were tediously going about the flat, looking for clues that might be of use to use against the culprit when they caught him. Until finally one of the men said, “I think I’ve found something! It might be from the man’s clothing. We could use that for DNA testing.” This little piece of fabric they found on the kitchen floor. And it took about ten minutes to mark the spot, to tweezer this bit of fabric up and put it in a plastic bag, and all that shit, you know like you see on cop shows. And then they took it through to the living room, where my Dad was, and showed it to him.

It was a little bit of pink fluff. And my Dad looked at it and said,

“That’s a bit of fluff from this living room carpet. The carpet you’re standing on now.”

And, indeed, there was a steaming pink carpet right under them, right there.

Lols! My Dad told me that, and he still finds it funny and I did too. So despite it being a real disgusting thing to happen to him and the family, there was that one light note to the whole chapter. Why the forensic guys figured the robber would be wearing anything pink and fluffy in the first place.

But, yeah, they got the guy who did it eventually. And he probably went to jail for it.

[harrison-abbott]

The trees were slathered

with rain and they shone slickly

in the streetlamp light, all like

the mise en scene in a gothic film.  

[harrison-abbott]

You tend to overthink bullies in the past. When you’re alone and you’ve been drinking; when it’s night time and there seems nobody to help. But when you come out of that black memorial place, you realise that those bullies aren’t in your life anymore. And that you have moral friends, who seek you out for company. Leave those immoral people in the past, if you can. You know it’s hard; but it works when you do that.

[harrison-abbott]

A storm was headed to the nation;

Later today they said it would be raging;

And there’s a fearsome sense of expectation;

Especially now, when it’s quite quiet outside,

and the rain is only a light spattering.

[harrison-abbott]

I follow this Beatles fan page on Facebook. Where people post stuff about the band, and so on. And, a while back, one of the followers posted on it something like, “I’ve been sober 5 years today! Feeling chuffed.” And somebody (presumably a total stranger) commented under his post, “Who gives a shit? This is a Beatles page.” As flatly and horribly as that. And I thought, that was mean as Hell. He didn’t need to leave that ugly comment. Okay, so the original post about sobriety was a bit out of place; but it didn’t deserve a response like that. And it’s always cowardly for people to comment negative stuff on the internet, when they wouldn’t have the temerity to do it face to face. Also – as somebody who understands addictive issues – I felt glad for the chap that had five years of sobriety under him. Yeah, it was slightly weird to post that on a Beatles page, but there was nothing wrong with it either. I hope the sober chap wasn’t too offended.

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I've seen lots of memes and photos recently on the net, about an ex soccer player (Wayne Rooney) who has gotten overweight in his late 30s. All these people making fun of him - and there are many laugh emojis under the pics. And - yeah - he's a bit overweight. But, so what? It's just what happens when you're in your 30s: your metabolism goes. And some of us find it harder to keep the weight under control. It's a bit mean to take the mick out of him. Especially considering he was one of the greatest British players. Far more successful than most people. I don't get why people take pleasure in mocking somebody like that ... A lot of the laughers will be fat as well.

[harrison-abbott]

The dream had come back again. You thought it wasn’t going to make a comeback but then it invaded dreamland, once again. The worst part was that, as a dream, it always fooled you, and seemed real. There were nightmares that you had, too, that you could break out of, because they got so ludicrous that you realised you were dreaming, and you could wake yourself out of them. But this dream never lost its tenure. Like a movie you had to rewatch, thinking that you’d never seen it before. And every time you did wake up, you were glad. You wished that you could open your mind and hack off the possibility of this dream coming back. But, you couldn’t. And you still couldn’t figure out what it meant. In consciousness, during an awake state, you did not have the same emotions about the story or the scenery in the dream. And wished that there could be some clear answer for it. Honestly – it had been going on for five years, longer than that probably. What could you do with this subconscious madness?

[harrison-abbott]

I got a message from Natalia. She was concerned why I wasn’t speaking to her anymore? The last time I’d seen Natalia was two years back. When she got on the bus without me. We’d been out drinking in town, and both of us had had too much. When we went on the bus to go home, the driver noticed I was drunk and he wouldn’t let me on. Even though I’d already put my coins in the counter, he told me to get off the bus. And, Natalia heard it, and was right next to me, but she just walked away from me and sat in a seat comfortably, and left me on the street. And I walked home at 3 a.m., because I didn’t have enough cash for a taxi. Later that morning, at about 5 a.m., I received a spate of angry messages from Natalia, telling me that I had acted so stupidly that night, and that I had been a Grade A arsehole, and that I’d disappointed her, and so on. She, as I said, had been just as intoxicated as I was. So after that I thought differently about her. I was studying. And not living in the same city as her. She was one of my high school friends; and, now that at I was at university, I knew all of these other people. Who weren’t like Natalia. And so I’d gotten these messages from her in the current age, afraid that I wasn’t replying. “What’s wrong, honey?” she said. “Are you going to cut me off after all of these years without an explanation?” The thing is … it wasn’t this one incident with Natalia. After that bus incident, I did ‘go back’ to her. To hang out. She’s developed a tongue on her which she hadn’t had before. Rude, aggressive. When I did go back to the home city, I thought about calling a few times, but there didn’t seem like much worth in it. Then with these modern-day messages, I didn’t want to tell the truth. So I only acted bemused, like I didn’t know what she meant. That we could hook up again in the future when I was back in the city. When secretly I had no intention of seeing her again. She was a bad friend. I didn’t owe her anything. If she couldn’t mature and realise her own actions, then that was no problem of mine.

[harrison-abbott]

A stillness to the air in the suburb,

after the light had finally gone and

that car exhaust from five minutes

ago had been the last sound and

with the curtain up on the window

you might’ve been anywhere on the planet.

[harrison-abbott]

You couldn’t believe that it had happened again. That same needless insult. You thought that people would’ve matured at this age, but, it just occurred again, and it sent you back to the worst periods of your life. So you had to believe it. And on the bus ride back home your mind bled and you’d never felt as bad as that in a long while.

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Magpies laughed in the canopy above

the street and they poised and heckled

at different points in their aerial kingdom

with their black and white craft.

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You could hear the rain through the drawn curtains and it was a sleepy tranquil sound when you could hear it when you were dry.

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There were hours last night where you thought you were ahead and doing well. And you wake up today and just can’t clear up a certain sense of misery, can’t break out of it. There’s nobody around to help. On your own. Simply have to head through with it, and get a nap in. Hopefully after some sleep you’d be in some other place mentally. For this afternoon, there was nothing you could do to break out. That’s just the way mood sometimes works.

[harrison-abbott]

Magpie Glen : Abbott, : 9798714603594 : Blackwell's

[harrison-abbott]

had this book of short stories published a while back. can be found in the link, if intrigued

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You’d been angsty all morning and afternoon, even though there was no immediate threat. Just couldn’t relax. Could not focus your mind on anything proper.