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I am Spartacus!
I wonder what Katie Hopkins would make of that?
Well that went well.
...whatever you say I am,
If I wasn't, then why would I say I am?
Bit shady there Bob!
That's the fella!
I'm Brian (and so is my wife).
I'm an only twin
I'm both twins
(From the Wikipedia article on Eric Douglas):
Douglas entered British comedy folklore when, during a stand-up performance at The Comedy Store, London, he became angry by the audience's reaction to his stand-up routine. This led to him shouting out, "You can't do this to me, I'm Kirk Douglas's son!" A member of the audience stood up and shouted "No, I'm Kirk Douglas' son," referring to the iconic "I'm Spartacus" scene of the 1960 film starring Kirk Douglas. This ended up with the majority of the audience standing up and repeating the line.
The last time I remember saying "I'm Spartacus" was during a drinking game after a rugby match. (Oops...) Maybe I was picked on because I was already half-cut, but the idea was to say "I'm Spartacus" whilst downing whatever was left in your glass. The next person has to follow, and so on. So you wait till you're near the end of your pint, and so it goes on. Having been caught out a number of times, with a few turbo-shandies mixed in as well (and a few cans of Kronenbourg while I was watching the game earlier), I wasn't in the best state for getting home, but I ignored everyone's advice to get a cab and got on the train instead. (Oops...)
The first section of the journey went well. Well, apart from chucking up my guts on the train at Waterloo (oops), but then I correctly transferred from Waterloo to Waterloo East, to get my train directly back to Blackheath... then promptly fell asleep. Woke up at Gillingham, Kent, realised I was in the wrong county, so got off the train and waited on the platform. This was the biggest Oops... I simply got on the next train going in the same direction. Er...
Hmmm... so, Ramsgate, 1.00am or so. A bit far for a cab home, so I decided to have a wander, maybe see what the view's like on the beach. Saw a pub bench on the way and decided to see how comfy it might be for a kip. Not very. Carried on 100 yards to a park, walked through that and found a nice bush to sleep under instead. Got woken up by the seagulls about 4.00am, pretty good timing to investigate the next train back into town. Waited outside the station for the guard to turn up and when she did, she took me up to the little office on platform 1, gave me a cuppa tea and two Mr Kipling apple pies!
Got on the first train back into town and promptly fell asleep. Got woken up at Broadstairs and asked for my ticket. Harrumph! £16 out of pocket, roughly £3 more than the cab journey I could've taken about 12 hours earlier.
...Then I realised this was all taking place on Sunday evening/Monday morning and I was expected in work. (Oops.) Got off at Victoria, Victoria to Blackheath, 10 mins jog home (and I was a fat non-runner in those days), shower, change, jog back to station in suit and shoes, turned up to work 20 minutes late. Not bad, I thought! Boss had a right go at me. Git! He did like my excuse though.
He's a very naughty boy!
Big_Bad_Bob wrote (see)
I am... ...whatever you say I am, If I wasn't, then why would I say I am?
That's fecking creepy - that was the last song that came up on my iPod
get on get on get on get on get on...the groovy train
Sounds like new fangled modern music..
It was in 1990!