I will always remember the 15th of Feb. 2003.
I woke up at 8am, which immediately signifies a less than normal day.� After a fair amount of badgering of asleep/hung over students, we (a bedraggled bunch of architects, a computer student, music student, 1 law and 1 languages student) made it to oxford bus station.� You may have guessed that we were indeed going to exercise our right to public protest against the impending war against Iraq.
Having negotiated the perils of London transport we made it to embankment tube station.� The words "Shit!� "Oh my God!" and "anyone got any beers?" all passed our lips as we emerged from the underground into the blistering sunshine. The cocktail of bright sunshine, biting winds, and the smell of 2,000,000 (not exact figures) unwashed hippies made for a heady and intoxicating experience.
Goddamn hippies everywhere!
The next few hours were spent amidst the throngs say no to war� and �Bush is another word for cunt� bannersIt was cold; we were hungry and really badly needed some beers!� But through these hardships we pulled through to make it to the seat of our democracy! The houses of parliament loomed before the great unwashed like a big plant eating dinosaur about to be devoured by the small but plucky raptors.�� At this point we took what can only be described as a �mission� to find some food.� We ended up at Waterloo train station and in true protester style ate a disgustingly bad burger king burger.� From there we bought four cans of� �wife beater� each and headed to Hyde Park.� Now content with our bladders full of alcohol we felt more like joining in with the bongo drums and whistles (ONLY �1).����������� It was when
we got into Hyde Park when I began to phone people in a vain attempt to find
old friends amidst the throngs of protesters as expected this resulted in
failure.� We followed a beat combo
around the park for a while then headed off to see the main event.� The speeches.� Some American preacher (possibly Jesse Jackson) was preaching to
the crowd �do it for peace, do it for love, what�s this for? LOVE!� that sort
of thing.� At this point Ian and Dick,
having now drunk 4 cans of Stella each, needed the toilet.� So off they went.� We said, �Ok we�ll meet you back here by the banner of George W
as Mickey Mouse giving Tony Blair a blow job�.�
However within seconds of them leaving the aforementioned banner walked
away.� In the meantime Ms Dynamite had
come on stage and gave a speech about peace and stuff. Then sang a song about
her� which I found kind of distasteful. 
���
A few of my comrades� (Ian, Rob, the back of Dick�s head.)
Through a miracle we eventually found Ian and dick and headed out of the park.� Question was what to do now?� We wouldn�t be able to get the bus for hours so we headed for a pub.� Rob knew where a Wetherspoons was so we headed off.� About half an hour later we got to the pub. Had a few pints and some food (I had a tasty wether wrap and twisty fries.)�
The moral of this story is that war is bad. People get hurt.� Sadam is an evil dictator who sends his own people to death and has a really bad foreign policy.� George bush is an evil dictator who sends his own people to death and has a really bad foreign policy.� And Tony Blair is nothing more than a poodle.�� Personally I find Bush more a threat to world peace than Sadam� but that�s a different story altogether.� So I leave you with this�Peace and love MAAAAAAAAN!
made by:demonstratorsfordemonstrators