Wednesday, 2 December 2009







Monday, 16 November 2009

The In-Can Scuba And Me

This is a piece by Jethro Holman and it is about beer.

I recently moved up to London to go to university, It
instantly became clear to me that everybody drinks a lot more here and they
drink it hard and fast. Before living here I was based in Brighton, It’s a lot
more relaxed there. If we where all going out I would get about 6 cans in and
have around 2 hours to get them down and enjoy them. When this was the case I
used to drink Kronenbourg, it was my favourite lager due a lot to the image I
felt it gave of me to everyone else. For me Kronenbourg was a mans lager and I
cant really tell the difference between most lagers.

So after moving up to London it became clear that to be
socially accepted I was to be drinking more and drinking it faster. I picked up
my normal amount of cans and had a session before going to a club with my
housemates, I drunk my beers at the speed everyone else was and realised that I
had finished everything early and that I felt like shit. Due to the immense
amount of bubbles in a cheap lager I thought that I was going to have a baby.

This became my biggest problem with drinking beer fast,
there where a few different options to solve the bubbles issue.

-Drink spirits with juice/soft drink

-Go for the keg you buy from supermarkets

-In can scuba

After a few nights on the spirits I realised that is hit my
harder than when I was on the cans, I got far to drunk to quickly and peeked
before I even got to the clubs so this wasn’t really an option for me.

The keg seemed a good idea as it is about the same price as
getting the cans in. I had a couple of nights on the keg I felt like a massive
plonker as all of my mates are hanging about with bottles and cans and fro away
things while I am running back and forward to the fridge and hanging about with
a big pint glass. This is all very well and good if you are hanging about in
the pub in a gentler atmosphere but in my house when we are pre-drinking we
seem to listen to a lot of Grime and R&B to get into the mood. Therefore
wandering around with a glass isn’t a good move.

So my last resort was to go for the new thing of getting a
can with an in-can scuba. This is an odd little ball sort of like a ping-pong
ball with a hole in it that filters out the bubbled to make it taste like
draught. I soon realise that on these cans I can neck a beer in one or two
massive sips because there are no bubbles getting the way. So in an hour pre
drinking session I can neck 8 or 9 cans which for me seems to be the perfect
amount to have a good night. 

So for all you ‘lads’ who are having the issue how to get
the cans in and not feel bloated beyond belief I recommend to you the in-can
scuba, It has changed my university life and made my world a much better place.


Football Manager and Me

Jack Potter is a lad currently studying in Liverpool. He likes drinking Fosters, playing football and listening to Lil Wayne.

The Football Manager series of computer games is something, I find, like many other teenage boys, to be a rather embarrassing addiction. Previously known as Championship Manager, or ‘Champ Man to its rather vehement fans, the game’s addictive nature can seen to be almost comparable to ‘virtual crack’. Fortunately, I’ve never felt the need to take time off work or school to finish another season in the late 2020s taking Huddersfield Town to another Premiership title. But grudgingly withdrawing from the screen as the sun comes up is not an uncommon experience.

The game itself seems to provide some sort of escapism for some players. How else will you ever see your local club sign Brazilian international strikers for £50m? Being an extremely mediocre football player of arguably only Sunday league standard, I can only dream, rather pathetically, of appearing on the game’s database, but I still feel real pride in pulling off another spectacular deadline day transfer coup. Spending hours scouring the transfer market for potential signings and trawling through the squad lists of the Slovenian First Division on what is, essentially, a tarted-up Excel spreadsheet in hope of unearthing a future world beating defensive midfielder is an entirely rewarding pursuit on any Sunday afternoon.

The ‘game’, and its status as such is probably completely arguable, is not particularly attractive nor, to the outsider, particularly interesting. Appearing to be completely incomprehensible to non-football fans, the idea of watching a computer program play out virtual games of football, with what appears to be very little user input, seems rather absurd. Having to explain embarrassingly to female flatmates why one is still awake at 3am watching coloured dots play football is not a pleasant task for any university fresher.

I’ve heard of friends staying up for days straight playing that one next game, knowing that you can’t quit while you’re winning and you certainly can’t go to bed on a loss, and even putting on suits and holding imaginary press conferences ahead of virtual European Cup finals. I’ve been red-faced in front of relatives and friends for my foul language; I’ve broken keyboards, punched walls and stabbed office chairs. All because of late goals conceded away to Darlington in the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy quarter-final. Reports of at least 35 divorce cases citing the series as a contributory factor in the breakdown of a marriage seem wholly reasonable.

But despite all of this, nobody will ever come close to the spectacularly named Tonton Zola Moukoko. Watching the Swedish midfielder of Ghanaian heritage lead my Peterhead team from the Scottish Third Division to European glory on CM 00/01 in a 5-1 win against the mighty Juventus, after literal days of play, may be amongst the proudest moments of my childhood. Sadly for Tonton, his career never hit the heights of his Championship Manager heyday, and he currently turns out on a Saturday for Atlantis FC in the Finnish second tier. It’s good to know he’s still a top level footballer at heart though; he didn’t even accept my Facebook request.

The Essential 50 Cent

He’s been shot nine times. He’s had a film made about him. He’s even the star of a videogame that involves him running round the Middle East blowing shit up trying to retrieve a golden skull or something. He’s one of the most successful rappers of all time even though he sounds like he’s battling several speech impediments and has a tonne of marbles in his mouth. He’s unforgettable…so special….it’s 50 Cent.

  1. In Da Club (2002)
For most of us this was our first introduction to Fiddy. Well, actually I remember reading in the NME that he had a song called Wanksta and thinking that that was really cool before I’d heard any of his stuff, but I digress. Ok, you can barely understand what he’s saying at some points but who cares? It’s like when Kano’s on top form, the cadences are mesmirising.  Everything about the song just works, from Dr Dre’s minimalist production (seemingly just some orchestral stabs and a two note guitar line) to the obvious smirk 50 must have had on his face when he tosses off lines like ‘watch how I move you’ll mistake me for a playa or pimp/been hit with a few shells but I don’t walk with a limp’. Basically this song just makes me feel thugged out. And I bet even your mum likes it

  1. Ayo Technology ft. Justin Timberlake and Timbaland (2008)
Ok, somehow this song manages to make a Crystal Castles sample sound good. That 8-bit melody leaks out of the speakers (talking of speaker leaking, check out Lil’ Wayne’s verse on Can’t Believe It by T-Pain, it’s totally inhuman), 50 just raps about wanting to bone some chick I think, it could be cybersex or something though and the bridge! Oh Lordy, the bridge! JT’s falsetto is too good. It’s literally impossible not to sing along with the chorus. That’s a scientific fact. There’s no actual evidence for it, but it is scientific fact. I hope they play this song in strip clubs. Also, you seen the video? Woah, should only be shown post-watershed.

  1. Candy Shop (2005)
This is the sound of 50 not giving a fuck. No messing around with metaphors and stuff, he’s straight up in there: he wants a blowjob and he wants it now. I remember reading an interview with the grime producer/MC Jammer who slated this track for making his young daughter sing about oral sex. The video is spectacularly unerotic. I think Oliva is bathing in chocolate sauce and then she eats an apple. Apples aren’t sexy. Chocolate sauce isn’t sexy. C’mon guys, you can do better than that. The song does provide one line that always gets me Richard Gere smirking, ‘dance floor jam packed, hot as a tea kettle.’ More rappers should reference household appliances. Oh, and £5 goes to anyone who can decipher what 50 says at the end of the video.

  1. 21 Questions ft. Nate Dogg (2002)
This song is rad for two reasons. 1) It’s a list song. Lists are great. Songs of lists are great and 2) it’s got Nate Dogg on it.

5) Windowshopper
I remember hearing this track for the first time sat on the back of the school bus. I swear that coming out of a tinny set of speakers it sounded like something off The Infamous. I was convinced that Radio 1 had uncovered a hidden hip-hop gem. Then I heard it properly. Yeah, my Mobb Deep comparisons are a bit off the mark but it’s still a big tune. Some people think that hip hop is just about dudes boasting about how much money that have. Sometimes that’s all you want to hear.



This is it. We are reclaiming the word lad.

Are you a lad? Got something to say? Get in touch. But only if it's about beer, football, birds and hip hop basically.


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I'm a creative writing student at Goldsmiths. That's about it?