It’s noon. We can drink at noon, can’t we?
There’s nothing in our lives.
Do you think we’re a good influence on each other?
Are we depressive?
I think we’re slowly sinking into depression.
I think depressing is rising up to meet us. Claim us. I think we’ll drown in it. I think our lungs will fill with it.
I don’t even want to be an alcoholic. I don’t even think I like alcohol.
The world is disgusting.
We know that.
More than usually disgusting.
Maybe so.
Trying to find the exact point between drink and sober. And staying that way.
We’re not not alcoholics.
We can’t actually afford to drink.
Let’s drink to forget that.
Let’s really ruin our lives. We can’t even do that.
Do one of your dances. Musical movement’s very important.
I think I’m fundamentally a low level drunk.
I’ve made the deliberate decision to drink myself to death. Starting now.
This is the prime of our lives! This is us at our potential best!
Where everybody knows you name. And hates it.
We’re over-educated and under … what?
Sexed.
These are my people. Conspiracy people.
I’ve lost my sense of humour.
Drink and just crash. Drink until I pass out.
We’re disgusting. God hates us.
Your dancing. I love your dancing.
Put some disco on. I want to hear disco. DISCO, Godammit!
Play some classical music. I wanna hear some harp. I wanna hear some fucking Mozart.
Put something on we can dance to.
Drunk by lunchtime. The day stretching ahead.
I love brown light. I don’t want to go out into daylight … I hate daylight … I come in here to escape the daylight.
This is our life. My God!
This is our death. This Is who we are. This is our apocalypse.
Smoke with pride. Smoke bravely. Don’t feel guilt. Don’t let it depress you.
We’re the last drunkards. They aren’t going to allow our kind anymore.
We need people in the world’s night. We need friends.
Do you know what friendship is? Everyone doing shots together. Even the barman.
You’re an asshole. But you’re my asshole.
I’ve always wanted to be your asshole.
Afternoon drinking. It makes such sense.
X taking his trousers off. I like being in a pub that let you do that.
X and Y, singing a duet.
Am I losing my magnificent torso, do you think?
What does your tat read?
Playing Roy Orbison’s Crying. We’re all crying.
Pub wisdom. I’m writing all this shit down.
This is my barstool. This is where I sit. No one else could sit here.
I’m fucked up. I love being fucked up. I’ll always get fucked up. My life is getting fucked up.
X is taking all his clothes off again.
How much drinking are we going to do?
Every time we meet, it’s some kind of triumph over necessity.
No one listens to us.
This is the truest I’ve ever been. This is my place.
We’re the people the fuckers want to destroy. To depopulate.
See, we care about each other. Even as no one else cares about us.
He’s in love with everyone. With a lot of people.
This is the most beautiful place in the world.
I’ve got to sort myself out. I’ve got to write things.
This is the best night of my life, like every night here.
Tucking X up to sleep on a sofa.
What is this song – it’s so fucking beautiful.
This is better than any church.
Religion – that’s what I’m thinking about. A beautiful fucking religious drunkenness. Where it means the fucking world.
You just fell asleep. You can’t sleep here.
I’m 32, look like I’m 50.
You’ve got to stop drinking here. Can’t come here every night. Take it from me. Like, what do you actually do? Who are you?
I just come to the bar.
I’ll tell you who you’ll be: a guy who used to do stuff who doesn’t do stuff anymore, because he’s in the pub. Promise me you won’t be that guy.
We’re going to die in prison. That’s the only outcome. They’re going to get rid of the likes of us. And pubs. Pubs won’t survive. The kind of places people come to actually talk.
A man crying and crying on the sofa.
What’s the religious meaning of our drunkenness?
Work in Progress 