Tuesday, 9 September 2008

Don't know they're born, the little SHITES

Some little cunts yesterday. In my day we would have set light to the curtains

With over 3000 new petty rules and regulations, I just thought I’d kick off a thread about what our kids will never know they’ll miss. It came from the Gis a fag, Guv thread where a commentator mentioned how he never goes to the pub anymore because the fun has gone from them.

So, let’s have a think about the things that were really good, fun, harmless, heartwarming, put a smile on your face when you were a kid and now our kids will never even know.

I’ll start.

Getting up to all sorts of shit when stuck in the car with a bag of crisps and a bottle of lemonade whilst your parents were in the pub.

For the younger ones amongst you, children weren’t allowed in pubs, because people hated children and went to the pub to smoke, drink, have the occasional fight, avoid their wives and argue and get drunk. The very thought of a child in a pub was abhorrent , let alone special pubs for children with ‘activity rooms, baby changing facilities, a children’s menu, outdoor playground with swings, fucking Donald duck painted on the bastard walls and a plastic ball pit.

Fucking about at the beach

Back then, going to the sea side was a treat, not a punishment from your probation officer. Your parents (for any black kids reading, that’s your mum and a man she once met. For any children of transgenders/gay couples/ civil ceremonies or whatever, just look at some old photographs, I’m not going there). You’d be thrown out of the car, have to get changed under an old towel used for cleaning the dog whilst your siblings threw rocks at you in minus 7 degrees and you would fuck about in that big blue cold thing called the sea. Before the health and safety barriers were put up and the Paedo obsessed patrols marched up and down the beach looking for a man to set fire to. Your mum and dad would argue all the time and you could wander off all day without an air and sea rescue mission being launched.

At some point you would return, covered in sea weed and tar and eat cardboard and drink watered down orange squash that looked and tasted like dogs piss. Then you would put your frozen, emaciated body back into wet sand covered clothes and go home again, with a pocket full of rocks and seagull feathers to clog up the hoover. No Big Macs, no fluffy fleeces, no organic tofu from the sushi bar, no factor 1000 sun cream or stupid hats.

Fucking about in the park

Again, when your parents wanted to argue properly, you would be booted out to go to the park, with the dog. You would get on your bike, that had no brakes and go to the park. The park had grass and a swing that if you fell off, you became the proud owner of a scar. No one molested you, you were not offered Special Brew or heroin or converted to Islam. You would have to dodge the dogshit (which was white) and it was socially acceptable to climb trees and throw conkers at girls. If there was a park keeper, it was job to let the tyres down on his van, not stab him coz he wuz on yur turf, innit.

Home cooking

Before we had a Tescos instead of a town centre, we used to have a town centre. Your parents could buy flour, eggs, milk, butter and sugar and make a cake. That required mixing it all in a bowl and if you didn't seriously piss your mum off, you got to lick out the bowl. By magic, about an hour later, a cake had appeared in your house and you got to nick a slice a day for a week and you could eat it (get a plate, you little shit!) in front of a television that wasn't showing dwarf porn live from Seattle. Cartoons consisted of Tom and Jerry. There were no chicken nuggets, turkey twizzlers, blue energy fizzy spunk, kofta halal kebabs and pizzas were for the cowardly Italians who changed sides in the war and all their tanks had one forward gear, five reverse. You ate what was on your plate. All of it. Or you were beaten to death and sent to bed.

Books, comics, bird watching and playing with bonfires. These were things you did when there was nothing on the telly (yes, there really was nothing on sometimes except a picture of an ugly child holding some voodoo doll).

Evil Child and voodoo doll used to brainwash the unemployed and bored children

Anybody got any more?


Sir Henry Morgan said...

You could kill things with your air rifle, and generally shoot it at anything at all, including your (now ex) mates.

You could throw stones at dogs while they were having a shag. You could kill things.

Gangs of boys and girls could go down to the woods and, um, pretend to be grown-ups. And you could kill things.

You could steal apples, pears, tomatoes, strawberries, gooseberries, blackcurrants, potatoes and anything else growing in anyone's garden or allotment or field within five miles of your house. And kill things. You could make fires down the woods or on the beach. Every day. And you could kill things too. You could steal eggs, and hens - which you could then KILL pluck gut and eat - the fires were handy for that and the taters. You weren't restricted to killing just hens. You could go fishing off the rocks - oooh nanny wouldn't like that one (as if she'd like any of the other shit we could do).

You could put maggots in the microwave and make rice crispies.

Did I remember to mention you could kill things?

You could enlist at 15 and learn how to kill people as well - AND get GIVEN FOR FREE the kit to do it with. Before you could legally smoke.

Ahhhh the good old days.

terrence bull said...

British Bulldog and the oki coki.

Putting worms down girl's tops.

Grabbing the Grammer kids' caps on Saturday mornings and chucking them on roofs. Then causing mayhem at the flicks.

Fighting PE teachers.

3 card brag.

Camping on the school playing field.

Mitch said...

Being free!

Anonymous said...

Putting dogshit (any colour) in an empty crisp bag, then resting it just outside some obnoxiuos twats door. Then setting light to it, knocking on the door and watching the action from behind the hedge over the street.
Catching spiders and leaving them in girl's desks.
Getting stuck up high trees.
And when caught doing any of this getting a bollocking off the copper and being taken home for another one.

Old Holborn said...

Sir Henry

I wasn't allowed an air rifle when I was a boy. Now I hunt, shoot and fish everything. And keep chickens

I did however go up to the woods with Julia Gallagher on the Silver Jubilee (I was 15) and do terrible, terrible things. She has since become a lesbian.

I WANT to try the rice the rice crispy thing. My kids LOVE rice crispies. The bastards.

Terrence: I was Northern Hemisphere champion at British Bulldog based on my ability to bite, scratch, punch and spit

Saturday morning pictures, eh? Fucking ANARCHY. I set light to the girl in front of me just as the Jetsons came on.

One guy in our lower sixth lost £200 on three card brag. In 1978.


You cannot believe the bollockings I have had. My father was a copper.

Anonymous said...

I hated being a child. During summer vacations, my parents would boot me out to my grandparents in the country, where I would spend the whole time with my cohort of cousins.

They were not the brightest bunch around and my grandma would make us do all this work. Gathering pears, cherries or plums, irrigating the tomatoes with a bucket, this sort of thing. I know that it might sound idyllic, but I hated every bit of it.

Of course, there were the nice moments: tricking those idiots into doing your work, having an exquisite cocktail of fruits you've just squished with your own hand and occasionally, yes, loneliness. I can't be lonely nowadays. Too many people.

Old Holborn said...

Anon @ 20.38

You were an only child and you are American. Of course your parents hated you.

You WANT to be lonely, hence your anonymous posting. Stop posting here and be a little bit more lonely. You know you want to. And get a cat. They can eat you when you die and no one cares. Or even knows.

As a qualified aromatherapist (University of Pigs Knuckle, Arkansas, 2003, Delta Omega Alumnum), I am qualified to charge you $17500 for this advice.

Y'all have a good day now

Lilith said...

Learning to ride a bike on other kid's bikes in a street where there was only one car per house and a garage so the road was "ours".

leg-iron said...

Ah, air rifles. The best way to get rid of acne was to shoot at it from 200 yards with bent sights. Or so we managed to convince a few of the less intelligent. Not all those pockmarks were acne scars in those days.

That's another thing. Being allowed to be intelligent, and the Dims being in awe of anyone with enough reasoning ability to predict what might happen if you followed a ball into the street without checking first. We didn't always tell them.

Calling other kids names and not having to be counselled for it.

Getting into fights which were resolved without the intervention of the police (unless one happened along, in which case he resolved it with a clip round the ear and a 'Clear off'). He didn't have to fill out a report, he didn't have to ask for ID because he actually knew the area he was policing.

Disappearing into the woods all day and coming home with a jar of lizards, frogs, tadpoles or an occasional toad. None of which ever saw home again unless they escaped, usually in the kitchen.

Getting dirty. Not having to be scrubbed with disinfectant afterwards. Not being afraid to stick a hand (or a face, if it was someone else's) into anything filthy.

Being allowed fire and fireworks. Sticking bangers into bottles precisely because we were told not to. Sticking bangers in cowpats. Seeing how far a rocket can go along a field if you lay it flat before lighting it.

Being able to walk into a shop and buy a paper pag full of A Certain Weedkiller, which, mixed with sugar, was a really good explosive. Being able to buy boxes of matches by the dozen.

Oh yes. Killing things too.

Lilith said...

Oh, and scary men in the woods down by the station....and a van that sold veg and the rubbish wrapped in newspaper and phones having dials so that a miniscule rubberised fingertip was not required to make a phone call...

Lilith's Daughter said...

Bother you, OH. I didn't think I'd have to buy my mother incontinence pads for at least another 20 years.

Personally I resolutely ignored the fact I was born into the nineties and much of this resonates me. There was lots of mud and loads of sticks. I managed to resolutely ignore the fact I was a girl as well and had pride of place at the top of an old holly bush (you could only get in if you knew how) from where the rest of the gang and I would launch baked mud dipped in silt at at all the goodie goodies, and often took part in the pushing of pretty girls down the mudslide into the pond. There was no stop once you were on that mudslide. We watered it using old fertiliser sacks. There were also a few occasions of standing outside the pub that I wasn't allowed in and making obscene gestures to my father's friends through the window.

My school from when I was 9-13 also had an old outdoor swimming pool which has since been shut down for health sand safety reasons. My contemporaries talked of how "back in the old days" you were allowed to go in from the start of the summer term. Apparently the Government introduced a regulation that forbade children from being allowed to swim in pools less than 60 degrees. We all used to beg to be let in or sneak the keys to get in when it was still 60. You then measured how many bleeding toes you had (I usually won with all 10). The pretty girls usually came out with snot in their hair. After swimming as the school couldn't afford central heating you were made to run half a mile to "dry off" in your swimming costume, in what seemed to constantly be a biting wind, you weren't allowed to take your towel with you either.

My parents, I think, heartily endorsed me. My mother even sent me to walk to the (200 yeards distant) primary school aged 8. But the headmistress called me into her office and demanded that I lie on the floor. "Now close your eyes. That's what it would be like if you were dead. You must understand we can't have you walking to school by yourself it's too dangerous".

My father speaks of his summer holidays being endless blurring days of poking nettles with a stick.

I have heard Elby talk in the past with fondness of spending the summer days of his youth on expeditions into the countryside wearing shorts "without being buggered left right and centre". I hope he comments on this post.

Sir Henry Morgan said...

"Hello little girl, would you like a sweetie?"

"No thank you mithter, I'd much rather see your cock"

That wasn't you was it Lil? In the woods down by the railway station ...

Lilith's Daughter said...

Oh and dad put an air rifle into my stocking for my tenth christmas :D

And making bows and arrows out of bamboo and string and your penknife to play Cowboys and Indians with!

Anonymous said...

It's the 20:28 guy here.

I don't know whether desire for privacy and desire for loneliness are the same thing. If they are than I am guilty as charge.

It's quite strange how you can be so wrong and so right at the same time. I actually have a cat, with the no posting part I can agree, but you're way off with the rest.

Here's the kicker... Anonymity be damned... I'm Romanian. Now go on, I'll make your day. Scream away everything you have on your soul. Damn foreigners stealing your jobs, turning London into Londonistan. Let it all out. After that read again my previous comment. It will make more sense.

Best regards, George

Old Holborn said...

George, you are no longer anonymous.

I don't give a flying fuck where you came from. Neither, believe it or not, does anyone else.

Blog it. I'd read the daily bollocks of a Romanian in London.

(nobody steals my job, I fight dirty)

Old Holborn said...

Lilleths Daughter

You are a criminal

I am not allowed, under my probation rules, to talk to you.

You were not born into the nineties. You were born into a family. A very rare thing indeed. Enjoy it. Scare the shit out of Lilleth twice and year and let her do the same to you.

Life is short and for living. There are no rebates for good behaviour, no discounts in "the next life" and time is running out. Do what YOU want to do, because the people who are telling you you can't, end up in the same place anyway.

Old Holborn said...

Sir Henry

The joke runs:

"Little boy, if I give you a sweety, will you come in my car?"

"Give me the bag and i'll come in your face"

Elby The Beserk said...

Always been "men in woods". Also, games in woods good - knife games, falling out of trees, hiding from Teddy Boys. L's D correct on buggery - a Southern disease, we held Ooop North. Oh and yes, setting fire to Farmer Wood's hay field was fun. Some of the time.

idle said...

Learning to face fast bowling without wearing a silly American Football hat with a grille.

Discovering about female genitalia for onesself, instead of being told about it aged 5.

Placing bets at a racecourse on behalf of one's parents.

Sitting on the roofrack or the tailgate of the old volvo station wagon on the way back from the shop.

On freezing nights, knowing that the junior members of the common room had to stand for hours on the slopey bit of tarmac between Old School and B Block with a hose, to create a good, deep, wide ice slide for the enjoyment of the prep school boys the next morning.

Getting thrashed for bad misdemeanours.

Hearing about people having "no option but to resign".

Bobsheadrevisited said...

Tearing down a very steep hill in the snow on a baking tray when the only thing that stopped you was the wall of the dogs home at the bottom.

Punching a kid at school in the face and knocking him down to stop him bullying me, and the teacher pulling us apart, giving us a bollocking, and carrying on with the lesson.

Playing in the street till dark, by ourselves.

Sitting down to eat dinner with my family and asking permission to leave table – and only when I'd finished everything on that plate, no matter what it was.

Feeling happy, free and safe.

Billy Wallace said...

Going to the pub with dad and my two brothers every Sunday morning, packet of crisps and a bottle of lemonade each, great!, trouble was after four hours we were pissed off, if we made loads of noise running around the car park, the old man would come out with seconds, great!,
When it was time to go for afternoon roast dinner, the drive home was much more exciting than the trip to the pub, three of us sat in the back laughing like fuck as we were forced left then right back and fore sliding off the seat on to the floor one on top of the other, was like a fair ground ride, and we also thought our dad was the most liked man in the area due to the amount of people sounding off their horns at him as he went by.

terrence bull. said...

Pinning kids down and playing the Jungle Book on their chests:

"Here come the ants, pinch,pinch,pinch.

Here come the elephants, thump,thump,thump.

Here come the tigers,

Playing stretch with french flick knives.

Chinese burns. Dead legs.

Bombing at the swimming pool.Flicking wet towels.

Waiting for the farmers to release the pheasants, going down the woods and bagging the tame bastards.

shoving tissues up telephone boxes reject slots on long walk to school. Then going back and collecting the bounty with a comb.

In 1971 my old man worked in pubs, he was given loads of plastic coins.(to teach his staff decimalization), I emptied all the town's cig machines.. made a nice profit.

I could go on and on...

Cheers for reminding me, I haven't thought about this shit for years.

Billy Wallace said...

O.H. your not doing the 5 November walk?

Tomrat said...

Child of the 90s I'm afraid; few to add as halcyon as yours but:

Hanging around in derelict houses in gangs, smoking and drinking cider and throwing up, all the while laughing our heads off or crying or both.

Engaging in ancient courtship rituals which involved creating an air of mystery about whether or not you actually liked the girl or not, then proceeding to the full blown display of masculinity only a 14 year old can muster, then going round the back of a derelict (a lot of derelicts in my town) building for a snog, a feel up and hopefully the guarantee of further snogs and feel ups with a handhold afterwards (the old romantic that I was).

Playing Nightmare on Elm Street with your mate by sticking steak knives to your fingers with masking tape. Then accidentally getting stabbed by falling over onto them. Ouch.

And last: being dumb enough to enjoy drugs whilst being clever enough to quit them.

Anonymous said...

Respond instantly to the clanging of a bell or a whistle

Be able to form an orderly queue

Play conkers

Play conkers with a cheesecutter

Take someone's eye out with the shards of those two plastic balls on a string thing

Attach a straw to a matchbox car and make it travel 100 yards with one push

Fall over in the playground a scrape all the flesh of a knee

Become a teenage millionaire by throwing money against a wall

See a real pig's head down the butchers

Swap a piece of liver for some jam roly poly

Play slapsies with girls

Believe that spaghetti came out of a tin

Eat something called "shaving cream" and enjoy or pretend to enjoy it

Get given a biscuit out of a tin

See old men doffing their caps at people

See real people wearing bowler hats

See at least one "spaz chariot" on an average day

Get real models of real things out of a cereal pack

Drink the gold top off of goldtops and put the cap back on

Scare the shite out of yourself playing the high risk game of "knock down ginger"

Think bicycle clips were normal

Know the objective truth that all teaches wore tweed jackets and sensible shoes

Anonymous said...

Rip up and chew pieces of paper from notebook attach to bendy ruler and flick
at random people and objects

Get hit with a ruler blackboard rubber or the back of a hand if you were too slow, stupid or just damn unlucky


Randomly adminster dead legs and back breakers to anyone who was stupid enough not to be on the guard.... and a get a laugh out of it unless it crippled them for life.

Play kiss chase w the then most advanced girls in playground

Pay 5p to take a gander at some assets

Think Iceland was where all the frozen food came from

Bribe prefects with a curly wurly

Chew a curly wurly for ten mins-half an hour

Bribe anyone to be your friend with a boiled sweet

Lust after your French teacher

Form a gang in 5 minutes at morning break, with no need for initiation, colours and all that bollocks

Lead gang on rampage chanting "we won the war in 1964"

Watch the girls skipping and tell them you could see their knickers

Pretend to persuade girls to do handstands.... and tell them you could see their knickers

Form a stable, loving relationship based on handstands

Call a paki shop that because it was owned and run by Pakistanis and Ugandi shop had too many syllables

Be sent to sleep on summer car drives by the toxic fumes issuing from plastic seats

Eat lead paint straight off a window frame

Discover asbestos in the ceiling of temporary classroom

Old Holborn said...

Who says I'm not doing the November 5th walk?

Of course I am.

Sir Henry Morgan said...

Fukinell OH, this is the biggest comment thread you've ever had.

" 27 people want to sleep with me"

You're going to have either a very sore dick, or a very sore ringpiece (or both).

Which reminds me of something else kids could do:

You could accidentally discover orgasm and then have a seriously sore dick for weeks afterwards because it was so good you stayed in your bedroom all day non-stop wanking.

Anonymous said...

The sweet shop

Getting a red piece of liquorice from the lady at the sweet shop

Turkish delight??!!

Aniseed twists

Toffee apples

softee ice cream oysters

Getting the timing exactly right for the run from the garden, upstairs to mum, downstairs out the gate into the path of the 10mph cortina, and up to the ice cream van, from the sound in the distance of the jingle

Being able to express scepticism about political, social, human behavioural theories and events, stories by rubbing one's chin...

Knowing a friends whose dad's brothers mate had a brother whose mate knew Joe Bugner (its true!!!)

Knowing a friends whose dad's brothers mate had a brother whose mate knew Henry Cooper (chin rub!!!)

Laughing properly..

People talking with fags hanging out of their mouths

Sitting at the front of the routemaster bus where the hump is in the winter

Jumping onto a routemaster

Falling when trying to jump on routemaster and getting run over by a Hillman Imp

The noise the conductors ticket machine made

Playing with those orange mechanical indicators that used to pop out of the side of cars

Lemon curd!!???

Fighting over prawn balls

Treating kids with verucas and nits like they had the plague

Telephone dial locks

Learning to tap out a phone number on an old phone

Getting your mouth washed out with carbolic soap

Thrupenny bits

Anonymous said...

Knowing people who kept all the newspapers with something about the queen in them

London Zoo

Getting pissed on chocolate liquers


Girls doing hoops

The limitless possibilities of bogies

Bobsheadrevisited said...

Seeing those blokes who walked around with one normal shoe and one enormous boot.

Snail racing.

Making woodlice pop on a hot day with the aid of a magnifying glass.

Hearing your aunty call someone on the telly a nignog.

Making a four-wheeler, taking it up the park, finding the steepest path, then hurtling down, losing control and ending upside down in someone's picnic.

That horrible feeling of dread on seeing your school uniform hanging up for you on the first day back at school after the long summer break. Even the traffic outside seemed to suddenly sound different – a more urgent,industrious rumble.

The sun had gone in and life went back to being 'grey'.

old timer said...

Dan Dare, pilot of the future, complete with his Horlicks reduced "night starvation" on Radio Luxembourg

Thick doorsteps of newly baked bread and dripping, covered in salt, enjoyed with a hot cup of cocoa in front of a blazing coal fire

Ha'penny chews and flying saucer shaped shaped sherbet dabs (Thirst Quenchers)


Penny bangers

Being able to multiply £3548,four and ninepence three farthings by 83 and get it right; and likewise be able to divide £19539/6/2d by 43 and get it right

Removing valve rubbers from the bikes of pestilential persons so they had to walk home

Sunbeam Talbot 90s

Split windscreen Morris Minors

Oh, lots more things...

Lilith said...

Battersea Fun Fair.

fuchsia groan said...

Oh, and scary men in the woods down by the station....

Oh dear, it is all coming back to me. We used to prick tease an old man who used to lurk in the bushes in the park. We would dare each other to look at his grizzled, brown little cock. Then we would run away screaming. Until the next time....
Ah, days of happy innocence.

fuchsia groan said...

Oh, I forgot, there was always 'You show me yours and I'll show you mine'. Except, of course, you wouldn't.

Old Holborn said...

Well I did. It turned Julia Gallagher into a Lesbian. She took one look at mine and decided a poxy 8" strap on was all she could handle.

I hear she's now a teacher.

Vindico said...

"Evil Child and voodoo doll used to brainwash the unemployed"
Fucking brilliant!!

Lilith said...

I did too. To little Alex. Except we were caught by a raddled and sinister dinner lady. We were made to say what we did in assembly in front of the whole school (We were 7). Never could manage public speaking after that. Alex dropped dead on a railway station three years later. No one knows why.

Old Holborn said...

fucking great though, wasn't it?

I thank you ALL

Auld Git said...

Taking the illicit air-pistol to boarding school and potting sparrows out of the dorm window - oh, and shooting my pal in the arse with it too, on the run, most impressive.
Travelling to and from boarding school by train at the age of 12, and expected to be able to do so with perfect competence - which I did - as well as negotiating the Underground. And not being buggered by anyone en route.
Buying Chinese fireworks all year round in Singapore, aged 8, and they were much more explosive and far cheaper than the English variety. God, the things we blew up and chucked them at.
Catapults, home made of course - people who bought factory-made catapults (thin on the ground in any case) were derided as wankers - not sure the term "wankers" was current then, actually. Admiring a friend who shot a bird out of a tree with his catapult.
Spending most of the day running round in the woods & fields with one's friends, doing dangerous things, without anyone worrying too much.
Building dens, not playing computer games.
Getting an air rifle (a Diana .22) on one's 13th birthday without having a SWAT team descend to carry one off to a foster home away from one's clearly sociopathic degenerate parents who would give a GUN to a CHILD...
Playing doctors & nurses with Rosemary Batt, both aged 7, watching her wee in close-up, and inspecting her friend (?name lost in mists of time) intimately beneath her knickers - then being surprised by po-faced 17-yr-old girl who seemed like a grown-up, and humiliated by severe moralistic wigging...
I could go on. Loved Sir henry's initial post, made me laugh out loud, but he's a poser, with his reference to microwaves - when I were a lad such things were science fiction, stuff in Dan Dare.

Bob said...

I'm a bit late to this but. . .

Keeping it short. OH you are my older brother and I claim a fiver you bastard. I would just add, setting the house on fire twice, myself once. Fortunately young skin seems not to scar too badly if your mum's a nurse and slaps large amounts of expensive cream all over you everyday for a month.

Old Holborn said...

I wonder what our children will write?

Got to level 47 on Assassins Creed.

Got £500 for reporting the wanker next door for over filling his bin

Got 520 "friends" on Myspace

Got 11 A levels. Yet I left school three year ago, innit! Brraaapp! Brraap! Stupid fuckers.

Oswald Bastable said...

Buying gobstoppers big enough to choke to death on.

Buying bangers from the Chinese greengrocer all year round.

Blowing up shit with bangers from the Chinese greengrocer.

Making skyrocket powered balsa wood planes.

Setting fire to scrub with skyrocket powered balsa wood planes.

Getting the shit thrashed out of us for setting fire to scrub with skyrocket powered balsa wood planes.

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