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This is a question Vandalism

I got a load of chalk, felt-tip markers and paint from friends one Christmas in a thinly-veiled attempt to get me involved with their plan to vandalise the toilets at the local park. My downfall: Signing my name. Tell us your stories of anti-social behaviour.

Thanks to Bamboo Steamer for the suggestion

(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:10)
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This question is now closed.

When South Crofty Mine the last working mine in Cornwall closed down
someone daubed "Cornish lads are fishermen and Cornish lads are miners too. But when the fish and tin are gone, what are the Cornish boys to do?" on the wall outside.

The town I live in used to be one of the richest tin mining areas in the world. Now the place is full of people who left school at 16 expecting a job for live and now have bugger all to fall back on.

Its the only bit of graffiti that's stayed with me forever

www.cornwallcam.co.uk/bestofinland/scrofty2.jpg
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:54, 9 replies)
Wales, while playing at soldiers...
Not long ago took part in an Airsoft (like paintball but with replica "guns") charity battle in the army training village in Sennybridge, Wales.
Written on the wall next to one of the shunkies...
"We must ALL fear the Gurkha"
I added "Especially Joanna Lumley" to the bottom.
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:53, 2 replies)
We used to climb up on the school roof
The roof to the Biology lab was a flat felted affair which we thought was ideal for carving our initials into.

Consequently the next rainy day the roof leaked.

It didn't take a genius to look through the register and see which class had an "SDW, CR, MA, JMP" and a "AJP" in.

[edit]

Another time we painted a seven foot cock and balls on the wall of the school hall which was subsequently scrubbed clean.

Unfortunately the scrubbed area of sandstone dried lighter (cleaner) than the surrounding stone which resulted in a slightly lighter seven foot cock and balls than had been there previously.
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:53, Reply)
Croatia's Nice Nazis
A couple of years ago, I found myself in a small town in Croatia, with time on my hands. I pottered about for a while, trying to find something to do, and my eye was caught by the grafitti on some of the buildings.

Croatia still has quite a significant nationalist-cum-fascist undertow to its politics. This was reflected in the grafitti I saw. In black marker pen on a number of walls, someone had drawn a range of swastikas, and written slogans generally expressing an active dislike for Bosniaks, Serbs, Gypsies, Jews, Muslims, and - by the looks of it - anyone who wasn't a Croat.

How do I know that this was the tenor of the slogans? I don't speak Croatian. Fortunately, they were all in English. It's nice to know that nationalistic thugs in that part of the world are at least cosmopolitan enough to make the race-hate multilingual.
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:49, 11 replies)
Never one to indulge in vandalism myself
but I will regularly reject a clean cubical in a public convenience for one that has some interesting daubings on the walls.

'Now it says 'Pass' where it once said 'Piss''.
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:48, 1 reply)
When I was a younger lad
I was wandering around an apartment block my dad lived in. Me and a few mates spotted an old van parked out in a field and decided to go have a look. The doors were all locked but we could get in through the little hatch in the roof. Had a fun time in our new found hangout/play fort until my sister hurt herself while climbing out. Thinking it was unsafe, we decided to demolish it as best our 7 year old minds could think to.
We threw rocks at it until all the windows were smashed out, and carried on home. When I told my dad how we had spent our afternoon defending my sister's honour he went scarlet. The van wasn't abandoned. Who would abandon a van beside an apartment block? It was just old. I had to go to bed early that night and didn't get to watch The Karate Kid. :(
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:38, 1 reply)
snow way to behave
We had a bowling green near where i lived as a kid. It was absolutely pristine. To the greenkeeper known to everyone as Old Charlie this was not merely a job it was a calling. Unfortunately it was also Old Charlies calling to be the most cantankerous old bastard I’ve ever met. Charlie and I had regular dealings as one of his other duties was to look after the crazy golf course in the adjoining park, a duty he deeply resented so he was never pleasant about handing out putters and balls to ‘little buggers’ like me.

One crisp morning I awoke to find it had been snowing heavily all night, beautiful deep fluffy snow. Soon enough I ended up over at park where I spotted the bowling green. It was quite a site: a perfect square of 6 inch deep pristine snow. The combination of fresh snow and mirror flat surface mean rolling balls of snow for a snowman was a pure joy. The short clipped grass meant the snow rolled up like a carpet to leave a wonderful bright green stripe beneath. I soon abandoned the notion of a snowman in favour of rolling the biggest snowball I could manage. And I do mean big – eventually when I was forced to stop because of the sheer size and weight of the thing. The fucker was as tall as me and only the flat surface and sheer puffing and groaning determination had allowed me to roll it that big. It was then an evil icy plan was hatched.

I’d have loved to have seen Charlies face when he arrived to see his beloved bowling green a bright square of grass in an otherwise Narnia like landscape. The green was completely bare, except of course for the neat triangle of six stonkingly massive snowballs in the centre.

I even had the cheek to go back a day later sit and watch him curse and struggle trying to dismantle the now frosted, rock hard heavy as a bastard handiwork I had left for him. They had partially melted, slumped together then refroze during the night so it had become impossible to simply roll them off the green. So Old Charlies only option was to dismantle what must have been well over a ton of ice and snow using nothing more than a shovel and wheelbarrow. With me throwing in helpful comments like – can I still play crazy golf in the snow Charlie?
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:37, Reply)
Weeee!
As a nipper, my cousin and I would (for a short while) take part in a pissing contest to see who could shoot their jet of cola-fueled waz, as far up the side of the garage wall as possible.

One day, however, we forgot that my old man was pottering about in the back garden and when spied us mid-flow.

"What the *** *** are you little shites doing?"

As we turned to run, we forgot that our trousers/shorts were still firmly around our ankles, causing us to stumble, fall and generally piss all over ourselves.

Our misery was compounded when we were forced to go and see my grandfather (strict disciplinarian - but looking back he must have been wetting* himself with laughter on the inside).

*pun intended

Length - I was six you perve
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:33, Reply)
Cars! Living Rooms! Panic! Destruction!
I was responsible for the destruction of an old lady's living room and front wall.

It wasn't really a conscious piece of vandalism, but the resulting destruction is probably worth mentioning.

I was 15, had moved away from my hometown and was visiting my friend, Ashley. We'd gone into town and bumped into another mate of mine, Steve. Steve's parents were away but had left their credit card so, thus armed, we went and bought 200 fags and a load of Becks, which we drank.

We were a bit pissed by now, and our little gathering was getting louder and more obnoxious. Someone was talking about getting some draw, and a decision was made to purchase some. This was facilitated by the unexpected arrival of a young man called Yorkie.

Yorkie was a 19 year old jobless wonder. Basically a drain on society, plainly headed to jail. All in all, he was a shitbag. Unfortunately, he could get drugs, we were 15, a bit pissed, easily impressed by the wrong things, and our judgement was plainly out the window.

A plan was hatched; we would borrow Steve's Mum's car, drive the half mile needed to score, and then come back and get stoned. Needless to say, things turned out a little differently. We took our positions in the car, and Yorkie got into the drivers seat. Things started badly when he couldn't find reverse gear.

We unfolded ourselves from the car and rolled it backwards onto the road. Warning bells should have been ringing at this point, but despite the unpromising start we started the engine and retook our positions within the vehicle.

It went pretty much as you'd expect if a bunch of half cut kids that couldn't drive got into a car. Yorkie lurched fowards, went round a corner too fast, over-compensated, swerved to avoid an oncoming BMW and then panicked. We were headed off the road and he hit the loud pedal by mistake. As the car accelarated wildly, a rush of adrenalin slowed events down to a crawl; flowers, branches and leaves flew around the vehicle, then, with an almighty crash, we hit the front of a house.

There was a brief hiatus, then I said the first sensible thing of the afternoon: "Fucking leg it!"

We all shot off in different directions, Ash and I, at my instruction, getting the fuck off the road and into a shop. We browsed in comfort as police cars and fire engines roared past. Steve, Laney and Yorkie ran for the sanctuary of home. Not bright really, considering the car was registered there. The Old Bill duly turned up and arrested Steve, after a brief fight. They found Yorkie in the attic, hiding amongst the pipes. Once extricated from the plumbing, he joined the others in the paddy wagon.

Ash and I were away scot free. Until, under the gentlest of interrogation, Laney grassed us up.

It all ended pretty well in the end; despite accruing a fair few charges I got off with a caution (on the condition I didn't get caught nicking any more cars).

And that, briefly, is the story of how I was responsible for the destruction of a 2 year old car, a garden, and the front of a house.
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:29, 3 replies)
Give Peas a chance
On a bridge across the M25 near Gerrads Cross. It has quite a bit of history:
www.google.co.uk/images?hl=en&q=give%20peas%20a%20chance%20m25
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:22, 1 reply)
An act of petty rebellion
... me and my friends threw a half-filled 5-litre can of oil onto the municipal Guy Fawkes bonfire.

Not big. Not clever. People could have got hurt. But bugger me - the mushroom cloud...
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:10, Reply)
My favouritest ever graffiti
Written on a wall, near a train station which I can't for the life of me remember,in very small and neat writing... "Terrorists are gay"
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:04, 4 replies)
Wasn't me but...
...a friend of mine came home one night to find the wall of her block of flats covered in graffiti.
She rang the local council to report it and was told that, unless it was racially or sexually offensive, there was nothing they could do.
At 3am she was outside, armed with a spraycan.
The next day she rang again to say that someone had painted "XXXX Council are a bunch of queer n*gger cunts" on her wall and could they do something about it?
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 13:01, 1 reply)
Saw this once on a bus
ANYONE WHO READS THIS IS GAY

underneath in a different pen

Thanks for the info love.
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:58, Reply)
Nothing to do with me
but almost everything on this site makes me laugh
wins.failblog.org/
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:56, 1 reply)
A run-down hostel in Zagreb,
Had some of the most elborate scrawling I've seen. There was an A4-page's worth of diatribe from some Welsh football fans bemoaning the next door neighbours of Serbia shooting their president, thus cancelling the match as well the general state of the city of Zagreb.
However, the gem was the message on the back of the toilet door:
"FLUSH TWICE - IT'S A LONG WAY TO MCDONALDS"
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:55, Reply)
Lost residence...
After a particularly heavy drinking session one Friday night many years ago, we arrived at a friends house only for one our group to produce a rather large house sign from behind his back and ask

"Does anyone know where Cherry Tree Cottage is?"

"No", I replied "And no fecker will now you've nicked the sign".

He didn't remember where he got it from, so we left it quietly outside the local police station the next day.
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:53, 2 replies)
There's someone near me that lights to graffiti traffic lights in a way I can only bow to
Red light = :(
Orange Light = :|
Green Light = :)
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:51, 3 replies)
Best graffiti ever:
Written on a toilet door: "I've shagged your mum"

Written under it in a different colour: "Go home dad, you're drunk."
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:46, Reply)
Hilariously bad graffiti

Some fantastic low-grade vandalism pix here www.thefilthypen.blogspot.com/

One of my personal favourites is "Fistful of arseholes!" scraped into a concrete wall for no apparent reason
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:40, Reply)
When I was about 8-9
I stole a permemnant marker and wrote my name on the bricks in our school playground. Now, fortunately my name is fairly common, so there where at least 6 or 7 other people in my school who it could have been pinned on, so a week or so after it was mentioned, with the usual "we know who's done it but we're waiting to see if they come forward and admit to it first" speech that teachers still seem to think will fool kids.

Anyway, a couple of days after the speech from the teachers I felt great! I had committed a terrible act of graffiti, and I'd got away with it! I felt amazing, giddy with the possible carreer path of master criminal/graffiti artist opening up before me, I was untouchable, incincible... I felt so sure of myself that I even went back to the scene of my crime, marker in hand to add some embelisments to my masterpeice.... just as one of the teachers came round the corner to catch me... Bugger!
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:34, Reply)

I was brought up to be (generally) well behaved, and disliked litter, vandalism or graffiti. However, having bought a load of Street Sounds Electro albums ( is.gd/fPtqY ) in the early 80s I very much wanted to have a go at spray-can graffiti, but didn't want to get into trouble. So, armed with half a dozen cans of car paint aerosols I sprayed the words "HIP HOP" in 6 foot high letters, all carefully done and stylized, on the family garage wall. However, so as not to cause offense, or get into trouble, it was the inside wall of the garage.

Within half an hour of my father getting home I was painting over my hard work with beige exterior masonry paint.

I could have been a Banksy.
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:33, Reply)
Just copied and pasted from QOTW suggestions
My Stupid Youth

Me and one particular mate used to get up stupid, stupid vandalism when were young. We thought we were cool. I regret it all to this day.

Remember the balls you would get with liquid detergent like Ariel? We would fill those with enamel paint and lob them over the walls of the bus station at weekends aiming for the school buses.

We would go around my old school at weekends and vandalise whatever we could find, like modifying Casper the ghost on the nursery school window into some freakish ghoul or just give Spot the dog a raging hard-on.

The stupid part was that we did this on a sunny clear Saturday at 2PM in the afternoon, we just didn't have a clue really.

We decided that we would only get caught if we carried on, so we decided to become night owls. On our first night of shenanigans we got caught by the police. We were arrested and searched, my mate had two bottles of poppers in his pocket and I had rows of firework rockets strapped across my chest like Rambo. I can still hear the officers piss them selves laughing as we drove to the station.
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:29, Reply)

Just saying, right, that if anyone's thinking of setting fire to a pier, they make sure they're standing the right side of it when it takes. Took me twenty minutes to swim back to shore :-(
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:25, Reply)
My Mother Made Me A Lesbian
...read a large graffito here in Brighton.

Some wag had written underneath it: "If I give her the wool, will she make me one too?"

.
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:24, 2 replies)
I once..
..as a small child..

not too bright


wrote my name in chalk on the aparment block next to one I lived in at the time..

my step dad got home and asked me if I'd really thought it through..
..it took me 30mins to make it go away..
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:17, Reply)
Damn so close
...

Working in a bar for 5 years I've seen my fair share of vandalism..

best one though was a pint glass down the shitter in the mens room and then a massive log was added good measure..

deeee-sgus-tiiinngg
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:15, Reply)
Book Cocks
Those cocks you used to see in school books
those were drawn by me (well some were)

It started out as juvenile fun
but the ones i penned later on in my schooling life started to become more and more detailed with jizz, veins and everything ...

anybody wishing to revive book cocks should always use Biro
(this is important)
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:14, Reply)
I love the huge murals on the gable ends of houses in Northern Ireland.
I think people in other places should express their political views that way.

"I COULDN'T BE ARSED VOTING."

"THEY'RE ALL THE SAME."

"ANYONE FANCY A PINT?"
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:12, Reply)
Your mum
was first
(, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 12:12, Reply)

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