Listenin tae um fir ten minutes, ye kin pure read between the lines. He’s in a pure bevvying mood, so ah tap some cash off ay um. We tan four pints ay heavy then get on the train. Ah dae four cans of Export and two lines ay speed during the journey to Glasgow. We down a couple in Sammy Dow’s, then get a taxi to Lynch’s. After another two pints, might’ve been three; and another line of speed each in the bog, we sing a medley of Iggy songs and go ower tae the Saracen Head in the Gallowgate, opposite the Barrowland. We drink some cider and wine chasers, dabbing frantically at salty speed in silver foil. All ah can see is a blurred neon sign when ah leave the pub.
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