As a rule, Meester Dangerfields stories are damn funny, yes I like the sex and drug content, but I like sex and used to do loadsa drugs. Men of a certain age often have parallels, the soggy bag of porn was a classic, I used to carefully dry it out on the radiator. I knew all the local places where you might find dumped gash rags..
Love this! Brilliant expressive writing the captures the gonzo grime of it all, reminds me so much of my uncle and his scoring stories a rich tapestry of visuals and smells, superb stuff Mr Danger, as an added bonus I’ve asked you a few times to tell this story on YouTube well the part about the charity box anyhow!
Hopefully, “the Good Lord willing and (the phone don’t ring),” I can send that yet this morning. Well, it’s still Saturday night somewhere…( a self-imposed deadline).
My first impression was that I had gotten a “You might like this…” referral to a “hunting” site. “Why don’t kids these days want to be hunters? A grand old tradition that allows for family bonding…Nothing says bonding, like taking your assault rifle and turning a deer into venison burger...”
No, Chris, I *didn’t* like it. I didn’t like it at *awwllll*, (drawn out Southern drawl) (from *Mash* when they put a Captain’s patch on Radar’s sleeve: “It’s for Corporal Captain. Just a new rank they are trying out. What do you think of it?” “I don’t like it…). And I don’t like being confronted with vivid descriptions of what happens to a person when their hijacked brain turns them into a zombie, behavior controlled by ultimately toxic amounts of a substance/behavior dedicated to removing all joy from life except a very brief explosion as the needle delivers what they have been scrounging for with their barely functional body for as long as it takes.
But…I was fascinated and just kept scrolling. Doom scrolling, I guess. Very good writing. More on that later, after I get a good night’s sleep, something denied me for 25-years, waking up sick and tired, breaking my daily vow to not do *that* again tonight. Doing *that* again…
Kind of brings about, a sense of nostalgia and want in me and a sad sense of emptiness that I find in now being clean. I alway's feel that something is missing. But when your in it it's just pure hell.
I haven't been able to reply for months due to a dodgy phone, well bravo bravo on a surberb descriptive memory of a rather you'd probably like to forget memory, unless Dirty Lynne wasn't that bad lol x
Great tales that many can relate to.
Encompasses the struggles, filth and humour of a self induced hell.
A couple of sentences required a couple of readings but did not distract from the overall message.
Thanks Christopher, WE ARE NOT ALONE.
As a rule, Meester Dangerfields stories are damn funny, yes I like the sex and drug content, but I like sex and used to do loadsa drugs. Men of a certain age often have parallels, the soggy bag of porn was a classic, I used to carefully dry it out on the radiator. I knew all the local places where you might find dumped gash rags..
It’s just really good, no witty remark required.
Nice one, just trying to push the algorithm, not written a book report since school. Have a nice day.
Love this! Brilliant expressive writing the captures the gonzo grime of it all, reminds me so much of my uncle and his scoring stories a rich tapestry of visuals and smells, superb stuff Mr Danger, as an added bonus I’ve asked you a few times to tell this story on YouTube well the part about the charity box anyhow!
AMAZING! I couldn't stop reading this Part 1! The Railway Tavern hahahaha I've been in those toilets with an ex bird..... ..
Fantastic half week there.... I have to read part 2 NOW!
Hopefully, “the Good Lord willing and (the phone don’t ring),” I can send that yet this morning. Well, it’s still Saturday night somewhere…( a self-imposed deadline).
My first impression was that I had gotten a “You might like this…” referral to a “hunting” site. “Why don’t kids these days want to be hunters? A grand old tradition that allows for family bonding…Nothing says bonding, like taking your assault rifle and turning a deer into venison burger...”
No, Chris, I *didn’t* like it. I didn’t like it at *awwllll*, (drawn out Southern drawl) (from *Mash* when they put a Captain’s patch on Radar’s sleeve: “It’s for Corporal Captain. Just a new rank they are trying out. What do you think of it?” “I don’t like it…). And I don’t like being confronted with vivid descriptions of what happens to a person when their hijacked brain turns them into a zombie, behavior controlled by ultimately toxic amounts of a substance/behavior dedicated to removing all joy from life except a very brief explosion as the needle delivers what they have been scrounging for with their barely functional body for as long as it takes.
But…I was fascinated and just kept scrolling. Doom scrolling, I guess. Very good writing. More on that later, after I get a good night’s sleep, something denied me for 25-years, waking up sick and tired, breaking my daily vow to not do *that* again tonight. Doing *that* again…
Dangerfield is some strange sort of gnostic demiurge... the world we see around us in all its filth, pathos and iniquity is His creation...
Kind of brings about, a sense of nostalgia and want in me and a sad sense of emptiness that I find in now being clean. I alway's feel that something is missing. But when your in it it's just pure hell.
Struggling with substack. Can't find anything but the hunting tales
Struggling to find your stuff on substack
Awesome mucker. Looking forward to part two
You might very well be the Hunter S Thompson of the 21st century
Can't wait to read part 2 👍🏻🤪
I haven't been able to reply for months due to a dodgy phone, well bravo bravo on a surberb descriptive memory of a rather you'd probably like to forget memory, unless Dirty Lynne wasn't that bad lol x