"It wasn't me!"
That was a common answer to mums question of "Why did you......?" or "Did you......?", or an variation of, back when I was a youth. Living in a little village surrounded by hills, greenery, abandoned mills etc provided the opportunity for much high jinx and kiddy adventures.

So did living next door to a graveyard.
So did living next door to a church.

It wasn't much fun having the vicar explain to mum that he had caught me:

1) Throwing a stink bomb through the church doors and ringing the bell on the way out

I didn't ring the bell, or throw the bomb - it was friend of mine. I was far to scared!!!

2) Having a little poo on the church step so when the service finished people would have to step over my little parcel.

I couldn't deny that one really. my timing wasn't too good and the vicar, being 1st out so he could greet his flock, got a view of me squatting on the steps while my chums ran away giggling.

3) I'll come back later but there are definately more stories to tell!

EDIT: How quaint? www.happy-valley.org.uk/images/bollington_08824b.jpg This is where I grew up and had adventures galore!!!
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Fri 12 Dec 2008, 12:33, 1 reply)

Yay for Bollington
I remember getting very stoned on them there hills as a teenager. *reminisces*
(TooMuchCoffee Lies about having too much coffee, Fri 12 Dec 2008, 12:54, closed)