There’s nothing quite so manly as a guy with oversized glasses drinking a White Russian… and if there is, I don’t want to know what it might be.
We discovered Daz’s great uncle in a painting as well.
Look at that handlebar tache.
One of the benefits of living in town means that you get to make use of the mid-week drink offers that are missed by those who only venture in at weekends. It’ll be no big surprise to discover that the city is also a much nicer place when it’s not rammed with brash, middle-class drunkards.
…it leaves more room for us drunkards to enjoy the half price cocktails!
A closer proximity to the clubs and bars also means that the way you drink changes. Instead of having to make every night a complete train wreck in order to justify the exorbitant taxi fares home, you can afford to treat drinking as a more social, leisurely affair (although possibly not financially).
Ever since I was wee, and even before I was really in any position for it to make any difference, I knew that I felt more of a kinship with city living than I did or would with something more suburban. There’s something about the pace and attitude and variety of people that’s awfully enticing.
Glasgow seems like a perfect size for this as well: just big enough to be diverse and busy, yet small enough to feel like you’re at home no matter which bit you’re in.
Who knows what’ll happen when I finish University in May: whether I’ll need to move back to Kirkie for a bit to save cash; disappear abroad for a while; or simply plunder on, but whatever happens: Glasgow will always be home.