In the women's toilet stall
somebody had written: Reclaim Pussy!
Underneath which somebody else had replied:
THEY CAN KEEP IT!
(TheWonderfulWombat It came to me in a dream., Thu 7 Oct 2010, 23:26, Reply)

Less good is the entrance to geology, where the old puns never die. And someone had to insert "ROCKS!" to the signage.


It's the enthusiasm of it that makes it good, that and the fact that it gets replaced religiously whenever it fades.
(shanterbabs, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 23:22, Reply)

In cambridge, on the goods entrance down the side of the chemical engineering faculty. I believe the words on the wall were "no skip", for serious, keeping skips out of the entrance purposes.

Some bright spark wrote "ing" on the end, then drew a person skipping, next to a skip, with a speech bubble saying "look, I'm skipping".


Well it made me laugh.
(shanterbabs, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 23:20, 2 replies)

'The Pies The Pies'
You may very well find 'THE PIES THE PIES' graffiti'd in various stretches of the many railway tracks, abandoned warehouses and bridges around Merseyside and Lancashire. Oh and Speke airport. Allegedly you can see it from a plane when flying over a part of Liverpool.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 22:56, 2 replies)

Follow the line!
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(Falstaff's Spiritual Successor, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 22:51, Reply)

You are now typing on your shoes..

(Falstaff's Spiritual Successor, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 22:50, 3 replies)

'The Pies The Pies' - graffiti around Merseyside and Lancashire and Hare Krishna intervention w
You may very well find 'THE PIES THE PIES' in various stretches of the many railway tracks,
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 22:46, Reply)

Not sure why....
In GCSE graphics, me and a friend found some old marble samples gathering dust in the corner. As sensible you men, we decided to write the names of lord of the rings characters on them and set them up like scenes from the movie.

Why we decided to do this I can not tell, but the result was worthy of a turner prize.
(Mong goose, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 22:20, Reply)

Sign boarding
Me and my mates when we where teenagers used to steal signs from the local round-about (advertising craft fairs and the like) and then ride them down the steepest hill we could find.
We looked so cool.
(shake'n'bake Tally Ho, Biatch!, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 21:59, Reply)

On the rare occasion that the late lamented Railtrack
decided they were going to actually spend some money on the railways - rather than spunking it all away on executive cokefests and then boasting about how British Rail wasted money by "overmaintaining" the system - they certainly let you know about it.

Generally, this took the form of large posters proclaiming "We are working on your station".

In Oxford, the highly educated, conservation-minded graffiti artists quickly added "...AT THE COST OF OUR HERITAGE".

In Bromsgrove? They changed it to "We are wanking on your station".

Ten years later I reckon the Bromsgrove kids had it right.
(ChaRleyTroniC is invincible with his chips and cheese, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 21:28, Reply)

4-foot
letters on a wall in Whiteabbey, just outside Belfast, early 80s:

"MODS AND SKINS SUCKS DISKS"

And I've always been strangely fond of the faded but still visible graffiti on one of the walls at Lord's cricket ground:

"IT'S ONLY ROCK AND ROLL"
(Wong Fei-Hung - now with added flickr.com (see profile), Thu 7 Oct 2010, 21:26, Reply)

We rode inside a discarded
tractor tire for kicks. The fun made huge skid marks along hallways, 5½-feet above the floor of E. Holmes Hall at Michigan State U. The origin of the starting line was traced quite properly to our floor and our entire party fund was used for the clean up. (The fund was large enough for about six steak dinners per academic year for the entire floor and an honorarim to a guest faculty Q & A at the dinners.)

I was the one idiot who rode the tire down the stairwells, hearing years later of a similar transport snapping the rider's neck. We were inappropriately proud of our accomplishment then and the beer vending machine later.
( tromboner cherophobia is my kind of fun, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 21:14, Reply)

Wanderer's post reminded me of something I saw once while reading a magazine.
From a New Yorker article on elevators:

Loading up an empty elevator car with discarded Christmas trees, pressing the button for the top floor, then throwing in a match, so that by the time the car reaches the top it is ablaze with heat so intense that the alloy (called “babbitt”) connecting the cables to the car melts, and the car, a fireball now, plunges into the pit: this practice, apparently popular in New York City housing projects, is inadvisable.
(raulduke, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:59, Reply)

Not mine, but I witnessed the aftermath.
As a teen I lived in one of the sprawling suburbs outside of a city. If you're a teen who can't drive a car yet, these places are intensely boring- mile after mile of housing tracts with fuck-all for you to do, unless you can get a ride to the nearest shopping mall which happens to be about six or seven miles away. This provides a very fertile ground for all manner of stupidity.

Near where I lived was a DIY store called Chase Pitkin. Leading up to Christmas they had a load of live trees for sale; after Christmas they were merely unwanted merchandise that couldn't be sold. So they piled them all into a dumpster out back.

Steve saw them there, went home and got a quart bottle from his parents' trash, filled it with gasoline and stuffed a rag into it, then carried it down to Chase Pitkin in the wee hours of the morning. He later told me there were forty foot flames roaring out of it when he left. I suspect that they were larger than that, as the steel of the dumpster was warped heavily from the heat.

I'm still not sure who acted more stupidly- Steve with his molotov cocktail, or Chase Pitkin for giving him an irresistible target.
( Wanderer, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:51, 1 reply)

My first job
Was at Papa John's Pizza (Oh the shame!) making pizzas for minimum wage. The only perk of the job was that I got to take home as many pizzas as I wanted at the end of the night.

Since you can only eat pizza so many times a week, my friends and I, being teenagers, found other ways of disposing of the pizza.

In my neighborhood, there was a bright purple Chrysler PT Cruiser. I don't know if they have these in the UK, but they are the ugliest cars that have ever been made.

This is the abomination I am talking about

To make things worse, the owner of the car had the audacity to proclaim their pride in owning such a piece of donkey excrement with the license plate: PTCRUZA. Naturally this would not stand, so my friends and I pledged to attack this car with the our full arsenal of pizza reserves every night.

For weeks we would drive by and throw slice after slice at the car, laughing as each slice stuck to the bright purple paint, and every day, the owner would dutifully clean off the car. Apparently Papa John's pizza has some sort of chemical superingredient in it since even after washing, dozens of wedge shaped discolorations remained on the car.

This went on for weeks, until I quit the job. A few days later, I was hanging out with a friend, and we went to his dad's house to pick something up. (His parents are divorced and he lived with his mom) I had never been to his dad's house before. His father had a brand new Lexus parked out front of his house. I complimented his dad on his new car, and he said: "Yeah it's great, but I really liked my old car."

"Really? How come you got rid of it, was it old?"

"No, it kept getting vandalized."

"Yeah, that happens in this neighborhood, those kids will tag anything."

"Oh no, it wasn't graffiti."

"Oh? what was it?"

"Pizza. Every day my car would get covered in pizza."

I cannot believe I was able to restrain myself.

Still, it serves him right for a grown man to ride around in a purple pseudo-minivan.
(raulduke, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:49, 8 replies)

Not me, but the vilest I ever saw
was when I was but a children, catching the bus to my Gran's from Manchester. Catching it, in fact, from Chorlton Street bus station- a more wretched hive of scum and villainy etc. I have always detested using public bogs because of the plague-inducing state of most, and had I known what I was to encounter I would have had a dump on the bus in preference. I paid my 2p to use a cubicle, and with hand protected by a spare carrier bag ( I never touch anything in public bogs with bare skin ), I pushed the door open and stepped in. The walls, door, cistern, bogroll holder ( empty, naturellement ) and ceiling were covered in years of desperate pleas for bum fun. The worst, at eye level on the back of the door was, very carefully scripted in perfect serif capitals, PHONE 0161-XXXXXX IF YOU LIKE TO SHIT ON FAT BLOKES.
( uncle bastard is twanging a dan moi, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:47, 4 replies)

Paper Drive
When I was a teen, and before the advent of in-home recycling services, you used to have to take your bottles, cans and newspapers to a recycler. When I was really young, we used to go around in our old 70s station wagon, pick up newspaper and get some cash for our troubles. Result!

Later, they put up these huge plywood boxes with "Paper Drive" on the side where like-minded citizens could drop their newspaper. Sometimes people threw away magazines, certain types of magazines. I digress.

Our attempts at vandalism were not destructive or permanent, because what fun is that? Instead we tried throwing toilet paper over trees and bushes. Good fun, but it took too long and the potential for getting caught was too great.

We arrived upon the paper drive. My friend's dad had an old International pickup truck (which looked like this image.automotive.com/f/featuredvehicles/16634510+pheader/0906cct_01_z+1961_international_aa110_pickup_truck+one_of_a_kind.jpg), which we would back up to the plywood box, looking like we were saving the world. Instead, we would fill the bed of his truck with all we could fit and then drive to the victim's house. There, we could wait until the time was right, back up near or on the yard and quickly expel a half ton of newspaper in a few minutes.

This worked like a charm. Two guys would be in back, one guy in the driver's seat, and next thing you know, the whole yard was covered in newsprint. We could even pull up to back yards and throw the lot over the back wall, the added height from the pick up bed making it possible.

We were the terror of the 16 year old crowd!

However, it all ended when two things happened fairly close together. One, we unknowingly ended up accumulating a life's worth of really nasty girlie magazines. When we cast them out the back at the house of a girl we knew, they landed on yucca and cactus (people use such plants for landscaping in New Mexico) and were thus stuck in the open position when the girl's mom came out. This almost stopped the dear lady's heart and her mom called my mom and I had to convince my mom that I would never intentionally throw glurg material all over someone's yard. We carefully checked our haul from then on.

Second, we were at the house of a kid that was a pain in the behind and I made the mistake of lowering the rear bed for ease of removal. Unfortunately, when the front light came on, my friend in the driver's seat took off suddenly. This had happened before, but somehow the remaining magazines and newspapers acted like the most slippery snot and I went out of the bed, backwards, at 30 mph and rapped my head hard. That, combined with a good case of road rash on my back and arms cured me of the paper drive urge.

Still think it's a valid means of non-damaging vandalism.
( BrokenCoccyx doesn't mind if you grope on, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:29, Reply)

Danish Graffiti
In a bar in Denmark (strangely in English):

If you see an ugly nigger,
grab your gun and pull the trigger.
Come on now, don't be shy,
you know that nigger deserves to die!
(mangojerry, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:28, 6 replies)

Well-to-do gangsta's...
In the county of North Yorkshire there are many villages, most of which are inhabited by well-paid "middle class" couples and their privileged children. So, it always amused me greatly that, on entering the village of Glasshouses, a sigh was tagged by the "Glasshouses Massiv!". I fear for them if the Harrogate Gangsta's get wind of them.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:19, 1 reply)

Oh, a few other classic Swansea pieces
"Hip hop don't stop" possibly from the 80s
"Hip hop chip shop" recently removed :(
"slipkont"
"I *heart* pies"
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:17, Reply)

Swansea once had a series of graffiti
stretching from one side of the town centre to the other, all of it revolved around a mysterious 'Donna Lloyd'. I like to think people went on tours to see it and I wish I'd taken pictures

The scrawls got more and more vitriolic as they went along. My favourite being

"Donna Lloyd is an evil ass-licking whore"
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:15, 1 reply)

South Africans? With a sense of humour?
There's a pretty seaside resort, popular with honeymooners, on the southern coast of South Africa called Hermanus.

It has lots of litter bins, and each one has a metal sign bolted to it stating "KEEP HERMANUS CLEAN." Someone has made it a point of pride to visit each and every one of these, carefully unpeeling the letter M.
(judgetheobscure used to sweep in butchers' shops., Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:14, Reply)

It's not there anymore,
But years ago, somebody painted SURRENDER DOROTHY! across the overpass in this picture.


(raulduke, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:04, 4 replies)

written on an overpass
in large yellow words

"YES I FUCKIN DID!"

i don't know who wrote it or what it was they did, but this incognito confession made me chuckle
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 20:02, Reply)

This is my favorite piece of graffitti


story here fuzzyco.com/news/fam_the/remember_when_david_reid_remembered_duan.html
( bane, Thu 7 Oct 2010, 19:59, Reply)