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» Anonymous
You've got shit shoes on - you shitty shoe bastard
I attempted to dispose of my shitty shoes with some degree of anonymity, but how I failed.....
When I were a wee lad in them there eighties, us sterotypical short trouser wearing boys used to while away balmy, endless summer eves in the local recreation ground, kicking around a football (which eventually progressed to solvent abuse and attempts at deflowering the local beauties).
Anyway, I had recently had a new pair of gleaming white adidas trainers to replace my somewhat worn out Hi Tec Squash.
I didn't want to scuff these babies up (as I used them to dazzle the chicks at the local youthclub, they glowed like a mother fucker under the UV lights - we used to love those UV pens and drawing daisies and cocks on each other) playing football, so I took my trusty, but worn Hi Tecs.
Having dicked about like 11 year old boys do, the evening was wearing to a close, and we were twatting around on the fringe of the playing fields where they back on to gardens in the longer grass, next to the cricket shed where the ride on mower - amongst others - was housed. We all said our goodbyes until only 3 of us were left.
I somehow managed to sliding tackle right through one of the ripest, richest, steaming dog shits I have ever seen - I managed to streak it along the side of my trainers, and even some inside.
After my mates calling me "dirty lurgy shit feet" or some such derogatory put down, and me chasing them with a betrainered hand - the antics culminated in me chucking the trainers on the roof of the shed (the other trainer's sole was worn right through in a layered circle at the pad of the foot).
I made my friends vow not to tell anyone - and being slightly cooler, and slighty (and I mean slightly) more revered, they agreed.
That was fine, until the next day at school. The local smelly kid whom we shall call Tony (for that was his.. blah blah) turned up looking somewhat cooler than normal.
Was he sporting a new mod haircut - no..... Did he have a Nike wind cheater.....no. He was wearing a pair of Hi Tec Squash trainers that looked a touch too tight.
Queue my freshly sworn in, brothers of the secret shit shoe union, decking him and checking for the worn patch on the pad. They hit paydirt, and immediately started laughing and pointing - shouting "Tony scavved the squitty witty hi tecs from the Rec Roof", "Did you lick them clean shit breath" - etc etc.
I then also came in for (what I felt at the time) far worse ribbing, for not only had I been the original shit shoe monger, but also the local grit kid had my shoes, so clearly I must be gay, and bumming him. No way could I have thrown them away, I must lick his greasy bum crease and give him love gifts.
Looking back, the poor bastard just wanted to try and find further annonymity with all the "cool" kids that gave him shit by fitting in with the right footwear - he just succeeded in bringing the spotlight a few feet closer.
If you are out there Tony - I hope fortune has smiled on you and you have all the Hi Tecs your heart could desire.
3 year lurker with cherry popped - length left wanting.
(Tue 19th Jan 2010, 15:02, More)
You've got shit shoes on - you shitty shoe bastard
I attempted to dispose of my shitty shoes with some degree of anonymity, but how I failed.....
When I were a wee lad in them there eighties, us sterotypical short trouser wearing boys used to while away balmy, endless summer eves in the local recreation ground, kicking around a football (which eventually progressed to solvent abuse and attempts at deflowering the local beauties).
Anyway, I had recently had a new pair of gleaming white adidas trainers to replace my somewhat worn out Hi Tec Squash.
I didn't want to scuff these babies up (as I used them to dazzle the chicks at the local youthclub, they glowed like a mother fucker under the UV lights - we used to love those UV pens and drawing daisies and cocks on each other) playing football, so I took my trusty, but worn Hi Tecs.
Having dicked about like 11 year old boys do, the evening was wearing to a close, and we were twatting around on the fringe of the playing fields where they back on to gardens in the longer grass, next to the cricket shed where the ride on mower - amongst others - was housed. We all said our goodbyes until only 3 of us were left.
I somehow managed to sliding tackle right through one of the ripest, richest, steaming dog shits I have ever seen - I managed to streak it along the side of my trainers, and even some inside.
After my mates calling me "dirty lurgy shit feet" or some such derogatory put down, and me chasing them with a betrainered hand - the antics culminated in me chucking the trainers on the roof of the shed (the other trainer's sole was worn right through in a layered circle at the pad of the foot).
I made my friends vow not to tell anyone - and being slightly cooler, and slighty (and I mean slightly) more revered, they agreed.
That was fine, until the next day at school. The local smelly kid whom we shall call Tony (for that was his.. blah blah) turned up looking somewhat cooler than normal.
Was he sporting a new mod haircut - no..... Did he have a Nike wind cheater.....no. He was wearing a pair of Hi Tec Squash trainers that looked a touch too tight.
Queue my freshly sworn in, brothers of the secret shit shoe union, decking him and checking for the worn patch on the pad. They hit paydirt, and immediately started laughing and pointing - shouting "Tony scavved the squitty witty hi tecs from the Rec Roof", "Did you lick them clean shit breath" - etc etc.
I then also came in for (what I felt at the time) far worse ribbing, for not only had I been the original shit shoe monger, but also the local grit kid had my shoes, so clearly I must be gay, and bumming him. No way could I have thrown them away, I must lick his greasy bum crease and give him love gifts.
Looking back, the poor bastard just wanted to try and find further annonymity with all the "cool" kids that gave him shit by fitting in with the right footwear - he just succeeded in bringing the spotlight a few feet closer.
If you are out there Tony - I hope fortune has smiled on you and you have all the Hi Tecs your heart could desire.
3 year lurker with cherry popped - length left wanting.
(Tue 19th Jan 2010, 15:02, More)
» Amazing displays of ignorance
My banger clanger
I forgot this - when I were a lad, I thought I wanted to be a mechanic. For work experience they sent me to the bus depot to work with the grease monkeys to learn their trade.
They were a nice bunch, if a little lacking in the grey matter department, and told me of some cracking faux pas they had all made in the past. Also of the frankly shocking lack of consideration to their welding and running repairs (I haven't "done" buses in the 20 odd years since).
Apart from keeping the knackered fleet of green dirge-transporters in fine fettle, they also did a lot of lorries, trucks and petrol tankers.....
**I was 15 and desperate to appear cool at this point, so smoked like most of my school - so did the entire bus work force so they let me smoke with them**
See where we are going yet??
Basically, we get a call out to the petrol storage area outside of an industrial estate where I live. 2 sets of gates, warning signs everwhere, and tanks full of arsonists nirvana everywhere.
Who gets out of the support truck next to the site manager, and 3 staff - and tries to look earnestly at the skyline, pluck a Dunhill from the packet and light the twunting thing (with hazard warning signs, no naked flame signs etc everywhere)??
They rugby tackled my arse to the floor - being called a dumb shit by the guys who back at the depot didn't do much for my confidence for a while.
(Fri 19th Mar 2010, 15:57, More)
My banger clanger
I forgot this - when I were a lad, I thought I wanted to be a mechanic. For work experience they sent me to the bus depot to work with the grease monkeys to learn their trade.
They were a nice bunch, if a little lacking in the grey matter department, and told me of some cracking faux pas they had all made in the past. Also of the frankly shocking lack of consideration to their welding and running repairs (I haven't "done" buses in the 20 odd years since).
Apart from keeping the knackered fleet of green dirge-transporters in fine fettle, they also did a lot of lorries, trucks and petrol tankers.....
**I was 15 and desperate to appear cool at this point, so smoked like most of my school - so did the entire bus work force so they let me smoke with them**
See where we are going yet??
Basically, we get a call out to the petrol storage area outside of an industrial estate where I live. 2 sets of gates, warning signs everwhere, and tanks full of arsonists nirvana everywhere.
Who gets out of the support truck next to the site manager, and 3 staff - and tries to look earnestly at the skyline, pluck a Dunhill from the packet and light the twunting thing (with hazard warning signs, no naked flame signs etc everywhere)??
They rugby tackled my arse to the floor - being called a dumb shit by the guys who back at the depot didn't do much for my confidence for a while.
(Fri 19th Mar 2010, 15:57, More)
» Anonymous
Crouch in yer float
Short, not sure if you will find it funny or wrong:
In our pre-teens, my mate Ross earnt the sobriquet "the phantom shitter" (not the most imaginative I grant you, but we were 11 and 12).
He always need to shit when we were out playing Just William style games (turned up to 11).
The 2 that had us crying with painful laughter were:
Shitting on our Spanish friend Pedros dad's (real name!)Seat Toledo roof, and using his socks (which he threw away) to shape it into a police light.
Also, getting caught short near the local dairy, and curling one out on the driver's seat of a milk float. I hope the poor driver didn't jump straight in the next morning in the dark.
(Tue 19th Jan 2010, 15:08, More)
Crouch in yer float
Short, not sure if you will find it funny or wrong:
In our pre-teens, my mate Ross earnt the sobriquet "the phantom shitter" (not the most imaginative I grant you, but we were 11 and 12).
He always need to shit when we were out playing Just William style games (turned up to 11).
The 2 that had us crying with painful laughter were:
Shitting on our Spanish friend Pedros dad's (real name!)Seat Toledo roof, and using his socks (which he threw away) to shape it into a police light.
Also, getting caught short near the local dairy, and curling one out on the driver's seat of a milk float. I hope the poor driver didn't jump straight in the next morning in the dark.
(Tue 19th Jan 2010, 15:08, More)
» Famous people I hate
Edmonds, Chegwin & Philbin
You bought your cunty swap shop shit stop to my town when I was 6. I swapped a millenium falcon for a big fuck of gun that sparked and lit up when you pulled the trigger.
HOW THE FUCK CAN THAT BE LEGAL????
My 6 year old body cried tears of pain for weeks when I realised I had been violently raped of one of the coolest toys, for a shitty heap of cunting plastic with no value beyond pretending to gun my parents to death on the car journey home.
I threw the pile of shit in the fishpond and 2 golden orfes died within a week.
(Thu 4th Feb 2010, 12:57, More)
Edmonds, Chegwin & Philbin
You bought your cunty swap shop shit stop to my town when I was 6. I swapped a millenium falcon for a big fuck of gun that sparked and lit up when you pulled the trigger.
HOW THE FUCK CAN THAT BE LEGAL????
My 6 year old body cried tears of pain for weeks when I realised I had been violently raped of one of the coolest toys, for a shitty heap of cunting plastic with no value beyond pretending to gun my parents to death on the car journey home.
I threw the pile of shit in the fishpond and 2 golden orfes died within a week.
(Thu 4th Feb 2010, 12:57, More)
» The Soundtrack of your Life
Farm working rocks
Can't quite recall the year, but during the break between finishing sixth form and going to Uni, I went to work at a farm sweetcorn packing.
It was your typical summer job set up, a few nice regular staff, a few disgruntled little Hitler types who couldn't face waking every morning, and coming in to see students starting out their lives full of promise, fun (and lots of horny sex - fnnnar).
It was an extremley repetitious job, standing at conveyor belts of sweetcorn, packing then in to crates and putting tickets in the crates (you were paid a basic wage plus bonus related to crate throughput).
Our only salvation was the Radio, but the twats had Radio 1 (you all know how often you heard the same songs on R1 during the early nineties right?).
There are a few songs that no matter how often you heard them they raised your spirits - here are some associations I have from those days:
Wonderstuff - Size of a Cow. When ever this came on, we would get the youngest, sweetest corns, strip the skins, then wallop them as hard as we could on the metal bars to our left or right. Result - sweetcorn juice hitting about the next 4 packers in your line. 1 person starts, about 30 playing by the end of the song (unless a little Hitler found out and sent you outside to shovel shit for the rest of the day).
Blur - Country House. Basically use the weird green pubey stuff (shit knows what part of the sweetcorn growing process this green curly, sponge like stuff was a part of) to make handle bar moustaches, goatees, and other weird facial and trouser area hair, then do cockney strutting about the place whilst chanting about a very big haaaaaasssss in the CUNT reeeee.
Finally - Dodgy - In a Room. Whilst 2 of our 4 strong possee of summer sweetcorn buddies were on the beach with our radio, we would laugh at our scam with the other loosers "in a room" full of corn and twats. The simple clocking on machine, and un-guarded finished crates of corn, made it very easy for 2 people to emulate and provide the illusion of 4 extremley hard working people coming in at roughly the same time, leaving at roughly the same time, and all having put the most crates of corn through the factory.
God I loved that job........
(Wed 3rd Feb 2010, 8:31, More)
Farm working rocks
Can't quite recall the year, but during the break between finishing sixth form and going to Uni, I went to work at a farm sweetcorn packing.
It was your typical summer job set up, a few nice regular staff, a few disgruntled little Hitler types who couldn't face waking every morning, and coming in to see students starting out their lives full of promise, fun (and lots of horny sex - fnnnar).
It was an extremley repetitious job, standing at conveyor belts of sweetcorn, packing then in to crates and putting tickets in the crates (you were paid a basic wage plus bonus related to crate throughput).
Our only salvation was the Radio, but the twats had Radio 1 (you all know how often you heard the same songs on R1 during the early nineties right?).
There are a few songs that no matter how often you heard them they raised your spirits - here are some associations I have from those days:
Wonderstuff - Size of a Cow. When ever this came on, we would get the youngest, sweetest corns, strip the skins, then wallop them as hard as we could on the metal bars to our left or right. Result - sweetcorn juice hitting about the next 4 packers in your line. 1 person starts, about 30 playing by the end of the song (unless a little Hitler found out and sent you outside to shovel shit for the rest of the day).
Blur - Country House. Basically use the weird green pubey stuff (shit knows what part of the sweetcorn growing process this green curly, sponge like stuff was a part of) to make handle bar moustaches, goatees, and other weird facial and trouser area hair, then do cockney strutting about the place whilst chanting about a very big haaaaaasssss in the CUNT reeeee.
Finally - Dodgy - In a Room. Whilst 2 of our 4 strong possee of summer sweetcorn buddies were on the beach with our radio, we would laugh at our scam with the other loosers "in a room" full of corn and twats. The simple clocking on machine, and un-guarded finished crates of corn, made it very easy for 2 people to emulate and provide the illusion of 4 extremley hard working people coming in at roughly the same time, leaving at roughly the same time, and all having put the most crates of corn through the factory.
God I loved that job........
(Wed 3rd Feb 2010, 8:31, More)