there we were standing in a hip indie student guardianista bar sipping our continental fruit beers when all of a sudden there was a commotion and everyone was rushing to the windows camera phones at the ready. outside there were two charvers, not kids actual grown men, squaring up to each other. nothing unusual there you might think, this was a friday night in newcastle afterall. but then it took a turn towards the bizarre as both men seperated, went back to their mates, stripped to the waist (!) and squared up once again.
at which point, naturally, they proceeded to bray seven shades of shit out of each other. the fight only coming to an end when the girlfriend (?) of the smaller bloke chased the other one away using a bottle of coke as a club. her man was left, face bleeding and completely laced in, shouting down the road that his opponent was a fucking makem pussy. by which point we were all utterly ashamed at ourselves for taking part in the whole horrible animalistic spectacle that was essentially a whole load full of well off people cheering on poor people fighting.

and all this before we even encountered the combined nightmares of the 'party bus' (some pissed up slags on a double decker), the 'party fire engine' (pissed up slags in a fire engine) and a load of wrecked up stag do pub golfers inflicting their drunken lecherous selves upon any nearby women.
don't you just love this country.