Sundays… apparently a day of rest and day of reputable religious worship and relaxation, except that I never seem to do any of that. Now oddly I have a girlfriend that has a rather dubious obsession with boot sales and the much more fitting term of “flea markets”

Boot sales to me are the apitamy of skankyness and there is nowhere on this depressed fueled fed world that’s worse… except maybe a boot sale in my horrid town of Harlow. We got up at around 1pm and yes I know it’s fucking lazy and yes I know it’s a tad late to go to a bloody bootsale, but if you ever try and get up my bird before that then your looking at a whole fucking day of abuse, mood swings and her sneakily putting chewing gum on your chair every time you try and park your ass.

She is in all intensional purposes a vile monster before midday, a rather strange and surreal opposite to that of werewolves, vampires and zombies that only drink blood in the sanctuary of night… Sarahphobia as I call it lays waste to people in the morning… especially Monday mornings where it’s advisable to be a galaxy far far away… fighting a civil war against the Empire is more preferable than pissing Sarah just after crack of dawn.

You know when your in for a real boot sale treat when you have to fuck up your suspension on your car getting to it, turning into a dirt track next to a crudely painted sign saying “car boot” into a world of hill billy's, ass raping of strangers and pickpockets. Bouncing around in a poor motor as you successfully manage to find every pot hole and every lump in the ground so dodgy you couldn’t even walk over, a simple case of following the trashy litter scattered road to flea heaven.

On parking up in a field of all places we get out the car and head towards the boot sale and getting out our change, 50p it cost us to get in… that means that we have to pay for the privilage to buy the shit that other people don’t want. Now call me pedantic but that’s bit of a cheek because that means you have to buy at least one item or you might as well just throw a handful of change into the air and bugger off.

If there’s one thing I can’t fucking stand and that’s people, boot sale swarms of people especially because they are different to normal shoppers in the respect they are just plain fucking rude. They hover about in front of you like they are on some sort of day trip; you can see their brains scanning over all the useless tat that other people are trying to get rid of. They stop dead right in front of you as they sniff out a particularly appealing piece of shit that they like, meaning you gotta stop dead in your tracks with half a ton of bloody rottweiler walking next to you that nine times out of ten ten don’t stop when you do.

One thing that escapes me is why the police don’t get down there in the early hours and round up all the local thieves when there all in one place!! Some of the stuff is downright criminal and the worst ones are the Chinese or the Turkish sellers of pirate DVDs. When I used to go to Hackney Marshes Market with my mate Ange it was one of the worst places for pirate DVDs, now I aint a proclaimed of truth and bloody justice and I will buy a pirate DVD on the principle that cinemas are bloody crooks.

In Hackney you are treated to a showing of a “copy” of the DVD before you buy it so you’re not ripped off by its quality… Now my mate Ange don’t take any bullshit… we was shown a good quality film and yeah, we decided to by it… when we were handed the DVD we gave it back and said “No, we’ll have the one you just showed us“… all fucking hell broke loose and to say it was barbaric would be an understatement. We’ve probably still got our faces on the “Turks most want respectable citizen list”.

Back to the boot sale yesterday though, and the one thing that surprises me is the amount of actual bizarre bollocks that people actually own. Most it can be categorized into two different groups “interesting… but shit!” and “smelly, crap and shit!” yet people are undeterred into selling the most stupid of things. If I were to hold a boot sale I would end up selling everything I wanted to keep, the shit your pushing at one of these places is a reflection of who your are.

I am the worst for stall judging, I look at the pasting table of bullshit then I look at the cretin selling it and I try to picture what their house looks like judging by the garbage they are peddling. Where is your pride boot sellers? Unless your selling hooky gear, pirate DVD’s or tobacco you aint gonna sell an incredible amount of shit or make a surprising profit… so do us all a favor yeah… save yourself the embarrassment and give it to charity! The advantage of doing this is that the little less unfortunate orphans with dirty faces have one eyed dolls to play with, the homeless get a half used bottle of Old Spice or Brute to dampen the smell of their bangin asses… and more importantly… I get a fucking lay in on a Sunday!