Christ, The Dilke...!

What a shithole that place was. I used to live in Ryton, just around the corner from the Blacksmith's Arms and a well aimed stone's throw away from that godforsaken dump that was the Dilke.

I used to stay well away from the Dilke...which is probably why I'm still around today
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 7 May 2009, 19:30, 1 reply)

The Dilke!
Ooooh that takes me back to the invention of "The Coventry fruit cup".
A Pint glass, two shots of Cointreau (oranges) two shots of brandy (grapes) two of Kirsch (cherries) all topped-up to a pint with cider (apples).
My hangover was so bad my HAIR ached!

Happy days.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Fri 8 May 2009, 14:25, closed)

The Dilke
was a favourite way to scare Mothers for all 16 year old hardos.
"Where are you going sweetie?"

"Over to the Dilke"

"Aaaaaargghhhhh noooooooooooooo, here, have £20 if you stay in town, just DON'T.....GO....TO....THE.....DILKE!"

Driving down the A45 early in the morning was like Dawn of The Dead. There'd be a procession of idiots staggering along the road in ripped shirts, absolutely drenched in blood, generally heading in the opposite direction to where they lived. A great night out.
(Rsoles, Fri 8 May 2009, 20:16, closed)