Drunk people

Are a real pain when you're sober, don't you find? Freed from the old parental duties for the evening, I was going out on Saturday for a wee refreshment. Despite only being about seven-thirty, the bus was invaded by a seriously bladdered and painfully loud group of frankly ugly men. The bus took an interminable length of time to leave the bus stop: half of this was taken up with 'the lads' learning that they had to give money in exchange for the journey, the other half with them struggling to locate their pockets. On the journey, they burst into song, "Wo ho - we're half-way there, WOA HO! LIVING ON A PRAYER!". They did not appear to be ashamed. I can't tell you how much I wanted to harm them but unlike about 90% of Glasgow's Saturday-night revellers, I was unarmed and since there were about eight of them, I didn't fancy my chances much. We were indeed only half-way there and unable to stand anymore of this sonic torture, I got off and got a taxi instead.

Maybe we shouldn't but photocopying your genitals, eating kebabs, falling over, and embarrassing yourself at an office party are the sorts of by-products of drinking too much that we have become used to and tolerant of. But we have to draw the line somewhere and surely this is it? I will support any political movement that promises to make singing Bon Jovi in an enclosed public space punishable by a lengthy period of incarceration.

Meanwhile, these idiots owe me a fiver for the taxi.