Oh aye, when I were young me and me brothers was all too poor for birthday pressies -
we got to play with sticks in't yard, like, and have a barbecue. 'Cept we couldn't afford matches, firelighters or even the meat, so we just sat there like muppets 'till one of us thought up summat better to do, like wiping dogshit on't rich people's doorknobs, or having a fuck-off massive scrap wi' t'Eyres Road gang, or trying ter hit cars wi' t'fireworks, or....

We was doing this on me 16th, and it were all good clean fun 'till the rozzers come round; little Terry tried to warn us - he shouted "it's the scum! it's the scum!" - but they caught up with him, beat ten kinds of shit out of him and packed him off to that DSS whorehouse. He were only 12! We ran inside, locked 'n bolted the door, then the scum come down like fookin' cheap plaster. They wuz bashing at that door like there's no tomorrow. We pushed half the furniture up against it, but they still got through, waving their rifles like they wuz on parade. We told 'em to fuck off - Mam threw a cast-iron pan at 'em and knocked one bastard clean out! They then got a bit pissed off and started ransacking the place. Most of us hid in the basement, but Dad made a fatal mistake - he had a right old go at 'em... they got him back by shooting him in the head, again and again. They must've done it thirty times at least. After they'd done that, they kicked him around a bit, fucked off to find another house to raid, and left us with nowt but broken furniture, a house full o'holes and a dead Dad. Still, it served the old bastard right - he were always spending our money and getting leathered.

Well, me 16th were total shite, but apart from that they wuz all great times!
( The Mock TurtIe ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Fri 9 Dec 2005, 15:48, Reply)