Oh the foibles of ones youth...
I grew up in South Africa where television was a mere afterthought to the regime we were made to live under. It has heavily censored and was mostly in a language I had difficulty understanding. Only with an education spanning 12 yrs and three schools did I finally realise that this language was in fact Afrikaans.

Suffice to say the lack of stimulus from tv in the afternoons led us into temptation many a time. A particular highlight from the vestiges of my youth came one afternoon when we were out exploring the building site adjacent to our house. Plans were afoot to build a house and we were determined to thwart them. I recall pushing a few freshly laid brick walls
over with massive enthusiasm and determination. Now days my enthusiasm and determination come from getting a seat on the tube and not making eye contact with beggars.

I digress, back to the topic of the house across the road. A lot of planning went into 'operation rip out all freshly laid copper piping' rendering it an unparalleled success. This was all done on the friday evening for maximum effect so that the place would be a flooded wreck on Monday.

Another crime, although less malicious you will agree, was 'Operation smash the french doors in, gain access to the house and wee off the top floor'. Military precision was used (read: a brick) to gain access to the house. We then made our way up to the top floor where my brother proceded to start weeing out the unglazed window to the ground below. At that moment the owners arrived to inspect the property and walked round the corner to be greeted by a stream of warm piss at their feet.

A swift evacuation headed up by my brother followed. He was older than me hence he could run faster so my lasting memory of that moment was him running up the road screaming 'Don't go home or they'll know where we live!!'.

Unfortunately when you're 7 yrs old there are no manuals to tell you how long you should wait in a bush until the coast is clear to go home. There is also this strange mathematical relationship between time and age whereby the younger you are the longer things seem to drag on. I waited in the bush for what seemed liked forever and then tip toed home. Only a 7 yr old would know the benefit of tip toeing down a busy road at 5pm, but for whatever reason it seemed like the right thing to do.

I escaped prosecution on that one and I think it was a lesson that perhaps crime wasn't the path for me (that day). I settled in to some of the worst tv imaginable and plotting began for our next escapade.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Tue 19 Feb 2008, 17:32, Reply)