After receiving a very hate-filled and hurtful email from someone I decided to forget about their recent abusive attack and get myself out of the house this past weekend. Not that this person should take any credit for me going out. I’m quite happy not to hear from them again.

I don’t care how that sounds. They made some rather insulting comments and soon enough they will be forced to eat those words. And I hope they taste worse than anything they have tasted before. 🙂

I met up Saturday evening with Reiss and we had some very nice apple & mint shisha at a place next to Cambridge Heath station before getting onto a bus to get into Angel. Reiss was going onto the Mucky Pup while I was going to meet Will and Lee at Big Red.

I’m sure I cut a rather bizarre sight as I sat on the top deck of the bus trying to remove nail polish with nail polisher remover. Well I probably didn’t look that out of place considering the bus was packed with people dressed up for various Halloween parties.

It was an enjoyable night, despite the fact that Will told me off for posting Avril Lavigne songs on my, blog and for not being a fan of Columbo. He seemed rather disappointed when I announced that I was more a fan of Diagnosis Murder.

We did some drinking, some talking, lots of smoking and even more perving at the sexy women dressed up in rather revealing costumes. It was like sitting at a table with three dirty old men doing really bad Sid James impressions.

And I lost my hat. It kept my head warm and made me look slightly more dodgy than normal. 🙁

Will did say something to me that made me think. He pointed out that I’m still tired three weeks after stopping the pills. I think maybe my tiredness has something to do with the damage that my recent overdoses have done to my liver and kidneys.

The term hero gets thrown around all too quickly these days. It seems that all you have to do is say ‘bless you’ when somebody sneezes and the next minute you’re queuing up to get a knighthood from the Queen.

I am a hero.

The N38 was taking a very long time to arrive so I ended up walking right up Essex Road to my old stomping ground of Englefield Road. Next bus was due in five minutes. Awesome I can sit and listen to my Ipod until then.

My Ipod, obviously not able to stand any more Seether or Avril Lavigne, decided to run out of juice. It was then that I noticed the man and woman sitting next to me. I earwigged their conversation.

The bloke had seen the woman waiting at the bus stop and had stopped and was trying his hardest to pull her and get her to come back to his place. I was admiring his confidence because no matter how many times she said “I’m not coming back with you” the more he persisted.

My growing respect for him died however when he dug into his bag and pulled out his tenancy agreement that was going to prove to her that he was old enough to rent his own flat. I did find myself wondering who carries that around with them.

Any lasting admiration vanished when he announced that he was a massive fan of Will Smith’s rapping style.

Onto the bus we got and the bloke followed the woman up to the top deck. About 30 seconds later she came stomping back down with him close behind her. By the way she was now telling him to leave her alone you would think he would have got the message.

She was now becoming quite upset, but she had nothing to fear for sitting not three feet away from her was a slightly drunk and rather weird looking hero. A sort of poor version of The Green Lantern.

With the burning anger of being mocked for my taste in murder shows still running through my blood I leapt into action. While staying in my seat I told the young man that his advances were not welcome by the lady, only in not such a nice way.

He told me to mind my own fucking business. I then did what can only be described as an impression of a cowboy that has landed a part in EastEnders.

I said “What did you fucking say, sunshine?” and slowly rose out of my seat like I was ready to go for my guns. Only I didn’t have guns, how much damage could I do if I threw my dead Ipod at him?

He got off the bus before I could put it to the test. As I sat back down I thought I heard someone let out a cheer, turns out they were about to embark on a five minute coughing fit.

She may have only thanked me with a kiss on the cheek and I then went home and ate chips with no sauce but I’m still a hero.

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I am running the 2018 London Marathon to raise money for Livability UK in memory of my dad. If you can I'd appreciate any donation you can spare. http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/deansaliba
News Reporter
Dean Saliba is a freelance writer, professional blogger, media enthusiast, dirty football player and huge professional wrestling fan who covers a wide range of subjects and niches including, making money online, traffic generating, pro wrestling, blog reviews, football, how-to guides, music, internet marketing and more.