Thrown away: The stuff you loved and lost.
Smash Wogan writes, "we all love our Mums, but we all know that Mums can be cunts, throwing out our carefully hoarded crap that we know is going to be worth millions some day."
What priceless junk have you lost because someone just threw it out?
Zero points for "all my porn". Unless it was particularly good porn...
( , Thu 14 Aug 2008, 16:32)
Smash Wogan writes, "we all love our Mums, but we all know that Mums can be cunts, throwing out our carefully hoarded crap that we know is going to be worth millions some day."
What priceless junk have you lost because someone just threw it out?
Zero points for "all my porn". Unless it was particularly good porn...
( , Thu 14 Aug 2008, 16:32)
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It was the Rolls Royce of pedal cars.
Actually it WAS a Rolls Royce pedal car, all shiny and dark brown and when I was given it for Christmas age 3 I wouldn't go near it. However, I got over that and loved it. My Grandad installed flashing indicators in it, I practised parallel parking and everything. When my sister was given a much more modern one we'd go up and down the street together, pedal furiously to the park and so on. There are photos of us washing our vehicles in the back garden.
I loved that car, but grew out of it both mentally and physically. For many years it languished in the shed (imagine the opening scenes of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang) but I knew it was there, just waiting until I had a shed of my own to keep it in.
And then, when I was 14, I suddenly saw it... on the way to the dump with all the other 'rubbish' as Mum and Dad cleared the shed out and though I pleaded for it to be spared it still went to its doom. Not even to charidy (well, we didn't do that in the 70s did we, unless it was Blue Peter?)
I was heartbroken for days, so much so that my parents felt very guilty, which while it was a satisfying state of affairs did not bring old Rolly (which I never called it) back to me.
My parents STILL feel bad about it, in fact. I have told them that the first volume of my autobiographies will be called 'Pedal Car and Tinned Peaches*' - it never fails to make my Mum cry 'Oh, DON'T' in an anguished way.
How I relished it when I sent them a postcard of a very, very similar pedal car from the v&A, just to rub it in.
*The tinned peaches reference is to another childhood trauma involving sitting in front of a bowl of them 'until you eat them.' I didn't eat the evil, slug-like repellent items in the end, though. I was very stubborn. Even now they make me shudder.
( , Tue 19 Aug 2008, 22:12, 4 replies)
Actually it WAS a Rolls Royce pedal car, all shiny and dark brown and when I was given it for Christmas age 3 I wouldn't go near it. However, I got over that and loved it. My Grandad installed flashing indicators in it, I practised parallel parking and everything. When my sister was given a much more modern one we'd go up and down the street together, pedal furiously to the park and so on. There are photos of us washing our vehicles in the back garden.
I loved that car, but grew out of it both mentally and physically. For many years it languished in the shed (imagine the opening scenes of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang) but I knew it was there, just waiting until I had a shed of my own to keep it in.
And then, when I was 14, I suddenly saw it... on the way to the dump with all the other 'rubbish' as Mum and Dad cleared the shed out and though I pleaded for it to be spared it still went to its doom. Not even to charidy (well, we didn't do that in the 70s did we, unless it was Blue Peter?)
I was heartbroken for days, so much so that my parents felt very guilty, which while it was a satisfying state of affairs did not bring old Rolly (which I never called it) back to me.
My parents STILL feel bad about it, in fact. I have told them that the first volume of my autobiographies will be called 'Pedal Car and Tinned Peaches*' - it never fails to make my Mum cry 'Oh, DON'T' in an anguished way.
How I relished it when I sent them a postcard of a very, very similar pedal car from the v&A, just to rub it in.
*The tinned peaches reference is to another childhood trauma involving sitting in front of a bowl of them 'until you eat them.' I didn't eat the evil, slug-like repellent items in the end, though. I was very stubborn. Even now they make me shudder.
( , Tue 19 Aug 2008, 22:12, 4 replies)
peaches come from a can
they were put there by a man
(in a factory downtown)
( , Wed 20 Aug 2008, 8:24, closed)
they were put there by a man
(in a factory downtown)
( , Wed 20 Aug 2008, 8:24, closed)
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