Dangerous/comic Nighter Exploits

[Barry]

I remember I was generally very much a 'bus home' type kid after Wigan. It was cheaper, dropped me off virtually outside my house and didn't involve dealing with too many people the morning after.

The problem with living in Warrington and being in Wigan that early on a Sunday morning was that there was a only a single bus that left Wigan Bus Station at 6.30am, then none 'til 12.30pm, which generally pre-empted the (bugger of a) walk home. It wasn't too bad as I'm sure it was all fields then and eternally sunny .

The bonuses of leaving for the early bus were liberating a pint of milk and a paper from the knotted packages left outside the newsagents in the Arcade - anyway I digress.

This particular morning I had no money left at all and was in a bit of a state as the preceding night I had been at the contents of a small enevelope I had taken with me to sell - I seem to remember up around 3am as Searling announced that M's would be open in five minutes, then nothing til the moment I was outside The Casino in the daylight.

Having no money and being in a state left me with one option - jumping the train, as there was no way I was going to be able to walk the nine mile home this morning and there was no obvious way past the single decker bus driver without my fare home.

I recall wobbling down Fishergate in me long leather and bag and upon arrival at the train station, after a little recce, working out that I could get up to the platform by scaling, Spiderman-like, a massive piece of corrugated sheeting that was leaning from the base of a small wall up to platfrom-heaven. This had no doubt been placed there by some other gimp for that exact same reason.

There's a blank again here but I must have alighted the train as the next thing I recall is being near the toilet inbetween carriages, arms leaning out of the window and approaching Winwick Junction (Winwick being the village just outside Warrington where I lived) - all with an amount of dread within me, as I knew what I was about to have to do.

Now Winwick Junction is a place where the Wigan-Warrington train slowed down to about 10-15 miles an hour as it was crossing a junction/tracks and was the only point on this hairy-journey that would be forgiving enough for me to attempt some kind of parachute jump-like exit from the train.

Not good.

Anyway, there was no way round it, I'd come this far.

I remember biting my lip, grasping the 'Communication Cord' (the 'Use Only In Emergency' brake cord that ran the length of the train)....and pulling!?

F*ck me, I don't know if you've ever been on a train when a 'Communication Cord' has been pulled but it's a pretty violent way to stop a 107 tonne, quarter mile long of rampant iron and steel.

"SCREEEEEEECH!" - "BANG!"

I got threw against the bog door - and then the other way - and then back again....as the train attempted it's non-standard Winwick Junction stop.

Now fully alert, as the fear and the thoughts of the possible consequences of my actions had seemed to morph into an imaginary hand that dove right down the front of my early 80's underpants, grasped my knackers and shoved them up my a*se. Thetrain was almost at a stop now so I grabbed my bag, leant out the carriage, opened the train door and jumped.

I landed like a sack of sh*t and rolled through a load of gravel and weeds into a wire fence.

I stood up, looked down the length of the train toward the engine and to my horror saw about three or four guards hopping off the now stationary train and heading, rather noisily, my way.

I jumped the fence into a very dewy cornfield.

It was as I was wading red-faced and fear fraught through this wet cornfield with my bag held above elbow height and a number of pissed of British Rail workers in tow, that I realised how badly the lining in long leathers handle the addition of water to their make-up. It was like playing that bloody game on Crackerjack whereby when you answered a question wrong they stuffed cabbage upon cabbage on your already straining person (don't now if that makes sense? but anyhow.)

I could see in my immediate view on the other side of a fence an upcoming copse, a small wood and, the irate voices behind me getting nearer and (GET HERE YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!) louder, I began to think I may have an escape route of sorts.

In the distance I heard a BANG!!!, then another but in my present predicament it didn't register as anything life threatening at the time.

I jumped the fence and (BANG!!! again??) dragged my sorry wet arse into the first hiding of trees, there was enough cover for it to mask the sunlight and it became a little twilighty in there. "Great!" I thought as I headed a bit deeper in and looking around (BANG!!! again, louder this time - wtf) I could see our hi-vis wearing be-capped fiends (no spelling mistake, I was scared rigid) beginning to realise this may not be working out in their favour - and they began to bluster and swear at me as they gave up the chase.

I was now in a wood.

And the wood went BANG!!! a lot.

It was at this point I saw my first farmer, out with his mates on a Sunday am hunt!!

BANG!!!

F*ck me, I'm gonna get shot now.

So, adopting a pose somewhere between a Ninja, an SAS infantry man on a mission to nowhere and a piss wet, drugged up teenager in ridiculous coat -with a bag - I set off deeper into the wood, my aim to somehow traverse the local pig-pickers out on their shoot, without getting a hole in my ass.

BANG!!!

"Hey you!?"

I was spotted - "Arse!".

My mind had forgotten the little triumph that was losing our friendly BR div-jumping team and I was back to square one - exept these f*ckers had guns. What I would have given for the fear of a hi-vis jacket now!?

With a group of unhappy farmers on my heels ("Get Orf My Land" an' all that) I went tree to tree, skulking, dipping and diving until I could see the light getting brighter - I must be approaching the other side of the wood at last.

Then ahead of me I could see the white painted wooden fence that I knew to be the fence that skirted the road opposite the old Winwick (Mental) Hospital (read into that what you will. I WORKED there, alright!), a mile or so from my house and with the voices of my irate hunters tailing off in the darkness behind me, I reached the fence.

"Thank f*ck for that!"

I breathed deeply, cobbed me bag over it, steadied myself and with a final mighty effort jumped over the fence and onto the main road.

Then I got knocked down by a car.

Suffering for your art? David Blaine don't know the half of it.

[Guest ritchie]

I remember I was generally very much a 'bus home' type kid after Wigan. It was cheaper, dropped me off virtually outside my house and didn't involve dealing with too many people the morning after.

The problem with living in Warrington and being in Wigan that early on a Sunday morning was that there was a only a single bus that left Wigan Bus Station at 6.30am, then none 'til 12.30pm, which generally pre-empted the (bugger of a) walk home. It wasn't too bad as I'm sure it was all fields then and eternally sunny .

The bonuses of leaving for the early bus were liberating a pint of milk and a paper from the knotted packages left outside the newsagents in the Arcade - anyway I digress.

This particular morning I had no money left at all and was in a bit of a state as the preceding night I had been at the contents of a small enevelope I had taken with me to sell - I seem to remember up around 3am as Searling announced that M's would be open in five minutes, then nothing til the moment I was outside The Casino in the daylight.

Having no money and being in a state left me with one option - jumping the train, as there was no way I was going to be able to walk the nine mile home this morning and there was no obvious way past the single decker bus driver without my fare home.

I recall wobbling down Fishergate in me long leather and bag and upon arrival at the train station, after a little recce, working out that I could get up to the platform by scaling, Spiderman-like, a massive piece of corrugated sheeting that was leaning from the base of a small wall up to platfrom-heaven. This had no doubt been placed there by some other gimp for that exact same reason.

There's a blank again here but I must have alighted the train as the next thing I recall is being near the toilet inbetween carriages, arms leaning out of the window and approaching Winwick Junction (Winwick being the village just outside Warrington where I lived) - all with an amount of dread within me, as I knew what I was about to have to do.

Now Winwick Junction is a place where the Wigan-Warrington train slowed down to about 10-15 miles an hour as it was crossing a junction/tracks and was the only point on this hairy-journey that would be forgiving enough for me to attempt some kind of parachute jump-like exit from the train.

Not good.

Anyway, there was no way round it, I'd come this far.

I remember biting my lip, grasping the 'Communication Cord' (the 'Use Only In Emergency' brake cord that ran the length of the train)....and pulling!?

F*ck me, I don't know if you've ever been on a train when a 'Communication Cord' has been pulled but it's a pretty violent way to stop a 107 tonne, quarter mile long of rampant iron and steel.

"SCREEEEEEECH!" - "BANG!"

I got threw against the bog door - and then the other way - and then back again....as the train attempted it's non-standard Winwick Junction stop.

Now fully alert, as the fear and the thoughts of the possible consequences of my actions had seemed to morph into an imaginary hand that dove right down the front of my early 80's underpants, grasped my knackers and shoved them up my a*se. Thetrain was almost at a stop now so I grabbed my bag, leant out the carriage, opened the train door and jumped.

I landed like a sack of sh*t and rolled through a load of gravel and weeds into a wire fence.

I stood up, looked down the length of the train toward the engine and to my horror saw about three or four guards hopping off the now stationary train and heading, rather noisily, my way.

I jumped the fence into a very dewy cornfield.

It was as I was wading red-faced and fear fraught through this wet cornfield with my bag held above elbow height and a number of pissed of British Rail workers in tow, that I realised how badly the lining in long leathers handle the addition of water to their make-up. It was like playing that bloody game on Crackerjack whereby when you answered a question wrong they stuffed cabbage upon cabbage on your already straining person (don't now if that makes sense? but anyhow.)

I could see in my immediate view on the other side of a fence an upcoming copse, a small wood and, the irate voices behind me getting nearer and (GET HERE YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!) louder, I began to think I may have an escape route of sorts.

In the distance I heard a BANG!!!, then another but in my present predicament it didn't register as anything life threatening at the time.

I jumped the fence and (BANG!!! again??) dragged my sorry wet arse into the first hiding of trees, there was enough cover for it to mask the sunlight and it became a little twilighty in there. "Great!" I thought as I headed a bit deeper in and looking around (BANG!!! again, louder this time - wtf) I could see our hi-vis wearing be-capped fiends (no spelling mistake, I was scared rigid) beginning to realise this may not be working out in their favour - and they began to bluster and swear at me as they gave up the chase.

I was now in a wood.

And the wood went BANG!!! a lot.

It was at this point I saw my first farmer, out with his mates on a Sunday am hunt!!

BANG!!!

F*ck me, I'm gonna get shot now.

So, adopting a pose somewhere between a Ninja, an SAS infantry man on a mission to nowhere and a piss wet, drugged up teenager in ridiculous coat -with a bag - I set off deeper into the wood, my aim to somehow traverse the local pig-pickers out on their shoot, without getting a hole in my ass.

BANG!!!

"Hey you!?"

I was spotted - "Arse!".

My mind had forgotten the little triumph that was losing our friendly BR div-jumping team and I was back to square one - exept these f*ckers had guns. What I would have given for the fear of a hi-vis jacket now!?

With a group of unhappy farmers on my heels ("Get Orf My Land" an' all that) I went tree to tree, skulking, dipping and diving until I could see the light getting brighter - I must be approaching the other side of the wood at last.

Then ahead of me I could see the white painted wooden fence that I knew to be the fence that skirted the road opposite the old Winwick (Mental) Hospital (read into that what you will. I WORKED there, alright!), a mile or so from my house and with the voices of my irate hunters tailing off in the darkness behind me, I reached the fence.

"Thank f*ck for that!"

I breathed deeply, cobbed me bag over it, steadied myself and with a final mighty effort jumped over the fence and onto the main road.

Then I got knocked down by a car.

Suffering for your art? David Blaine don't know the half of it.

Now thats my kind of thread

[Guest]

thats one of the best stories I have ever read on here.

Thank you!

I can't wait for some more wrong'uns to contribute

[Swifty]

'Kin Priceless Barry PMSL

Swifty

[Guest]

I remember I was generally very much a 'bus home' type kid after Wigan. It was cheaper, dropped me off virtually outside my house and didn't involve dealing with too many people the morning after.

The problem with living in Warrington and being in Wigan that early on a Sunday morning was that there was a only a single bus that left Wigan Bus Station at 6.30am, then none 'til 12.30pm, which generally pre-empted the (bugger of a) walk home. It wasn't too bad as I'm sure it was all fields then and eternally sunny .

The bonuses of leaving for the early bus were liberating a pint of milk and a paper from the knotted packages left outside the newsagents in the Arcade - anyway I digress.

This particular morning I had no money left at all and was in a bit of a state as the preceding night I had been at the contents of a small enevelope I had taken with me to sell - I seem to remember up around 3am as Searling announced that M's would be open in five minutes, then nothing til the moment I was outside The Casino in the daylight.

Having no money and being in a state left me with one option - jumping the train, as there was no way I was going to be able to walk the nine mile home this morning and there was no obvious way past the single decker bus driver without my fare home.

I recall wobbling down Fishergate in me long leather and bag and upon arrival at the train station, after a little recce, working out that I could get up to the platform by scaling, Spiderman-like, a massive piece of corrugated sheeting that was leaning from the base of a small wall up to platfrom-heaven. This had no doubt been placed there by some other gimp for that exact same reason.

There's a blank again here but I must have alighted the train as the next thing I recall is being near the toilet inbetween carriages, arms leaning out of the window and approaching Winwick Junction (Winwick being the village just outside Warrington where I lived) - all with an amount of dread within me, as I knew what I was about to have to do.

Now Winwick Junction is a place where the Wigan-Warrington train slowed down to about 10-15 miles an hour as it was crossing a junction/tracks and was the only point on this hairy-journey that would be forgiving enough for me to attempt some kind of parachute jump-like exit from the train.

Not good.

Anyway, there was no way round it, I'd come this far.

I remember biting my lip, grasping the 'Communication Cord' (the 'Use Only In Emergency' brake cord that ran the length of the train)....and pulling!?

F*ck me, I don't know if you've ever been on a train when a 'Communication Cord' has been pulled but it's a pretty violent way to stop a 107 tonne, quarter mile long of rampant iron and steel.

"SCREEEEEEECH!" - "BANG!"

I got threw against the bog door - and then the other way - and then back again....as the train attempted it's non-standard Winwick Junction stop.

Now fully alert, as the fear and the thoughts of the possible consequences of my actions had seemed to morph into an imaginary hand that dove right down the front of my early 80's underpants, grasped my knackers and shoved them up my a*se. Thetrain was almost at a stop now so I grabbed my bag, leant out the carriage, opened the train door and jumped.

I landed like a sack of sh*t and rolled through a load of gravel and weeds into a wire fence.

I stood up, looked down the length of the train toward the engine and to my horror saw about three or four guards hopping off the now stationary train and heading, rather noisily, my way.

I jumped the fence into a very dewy cornfield.

It was as I was wading red-faced and fear fraught through this wet cornfield with my bag held above elbow height and a number of pissed of British Rail workers in tow, that I realised how badly the lining in long leathers handle the addition of water to their make-up. It was like playing that bloody game on Crackerjack whereby when you answered a question wrong they stuffed cabbage upon cabbage on your already straining person (don't now if that makes sense? but anyhow.)

I could see in my immediate view on the other side of a fence an upcoming copse, a small wood and, the irate voices behind me getting nearer and (GET HERE YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!) louder, I began to think I may have an escape route of sorts.

In the distance I heard a BANG!!!, then another but in my present predicament it didn't register as anything life threatening at the time.

I jumped the fence and (BANG!!! again??) dragged my sorry wet arse into the first hiding of trees, there was enough cover for it to mask the sunlight and it became a little twilighty in there. "Great!" I thought as I headed a bit deeper in and looking around (BANG!!! again, louder this time - wtf) I could see our hi-vis wearing be-capped fiends (no spelling mistake, I was scared rigid) beginning to realise this may not be working out in their favour - and they began to bluster and swear at me as they gave up the chase.

I was now in a wood.

And the wood went BANG!!! a lot.

It was at this point I saw my first farmer, out with his mates on a Sunday am hunt!!

BANG!!!

F*ck me, I'm gonna get shot now.

So, adopting a pose somewhere between a Ninja, an SAS infantry man on a mission to nowhere and a piss wet, drugged up teenager in ridiculous coat -with a bag - I set off deeper into the wood, my aim to somehow traverse the local pig-pickers out on their shoot, without getting a hole in my ass.

BANG!!!

"Hey you!?"

I was spotted - "Arse!".

My mind had forgotten the little triumph that was losing our friendly BR div-jumping team and I was back to square one - exept these f*ckers had guns. What I would have given for the fear of a hi-vis jacket now!?

With a group of unhappy farmers on my heels ("Get Orf My Land" an' all that) I went tree to tree, skulking, dipping and diving until I could see the light getting brighter - I must be approaching the other side of the wood at last.

Then ahead of me I could see the white painted wooden fence that I knew to be the fence that skirted the road opposite the old Winwick (Mental) Hospital (read into that what you will. I WORKED there, alright!), a mile or so from my house and with the voices of my irate hunters tailing off in the darkness behind me, I reached the fence.

"Thank f*ck for that!"

I breathed deeply, cobbed me bag over it, steadied myself and with a final mighty effort jumped over the fence and onto the main road.

Then I got knocked down by a car.

Suffering for your art? David Blaine don't know the half of it.

Wonderful tale Barrington , wonderful tale ......

Malc Burton

[Jordirip]

Superb mate!! Brightened my morning at work up no end.

Jordi

[ImberBoy]

Mega, cant see much topping that

[Amsterdam Russ]

I can't recall the last time I cried so much with laughter. Truly priceless!

[Guest in town Mikey]

Absolutely superb post. Tears in my eyes reading it.

Funnily enough, just to the right was a link to - A Thrill A Moment.

[Drew3]

Wonderful tale Barry.

Priceless!!!

KTF.

Drew.

[Tabs]

Quality

[Theresa]

Spat my ciabatta out laughing at that one Barry. So glad you're back!

[Barry]

Brilliant!! Remember your lovely mum,and lovely house with a fond memory,mate.Think that Winwick(pronounced Winick) Road there must be the busiest road in The North-West..If not the whole-wide world Maybe next time it might be an idea if you use 'The lmpossible To Commit Suicide Bridge' next to the mental hospital!

I've just bought me Ma's as it happens Phil (she's on holiday - she'll see me off I tell you) and the bridge you so fondly remember was pulled down a year ago apparently but I didn't realise 'til last week.

It appears that I've not been walking under that bridge now for ages without me knowing.

[Mark S]

Brilliant , now how do you get yoghurt off the keyboard ?

[Gilly]

What a brill story, i'll see if i can add to it in a small way regards Gilly

[Barry]

What a brill story, i'll see if i can add to it in a small way regards Gilly

That'd be cool Gilly.

I know I go on a bit with my posts but I'm quite sure there are more than a fair few tales of danger and mis-deed that are worthy of sticking on this thread.

[Russ Vickers]

Great tale Barry

I was once Hitch Hiking to the 100 Club from Plymouth, dont know why, but for some reason back in the mid 8ts there was no transport out of Plymouth after 6.30 at night, as i didnt drive back then, after finishing my shift on HMS whatever..........cant remember now, i duelly stood on the slipway to the motorway waiting for my first lift, OMG not a sausage !, i had been waiting some considerable time when a wreck of a car pulled over up the road, i ran up & gave the driver the once over as i asked if he was going or could drop me near or on the way to London...........this was not the kinda guy i would have normally jumped into a car with on a dark Saturday night, however the 100 Club called & on a piss poor night like this was i might never get a another lift, so off we set for some where along the way............'weird bloke' then tells me he's just got out of gaol & has been on the rob all day in Plymouth, all the loot is in the back & do i fancy ought............i reply in the negative (politely) then matey says can you open the glove compartment & pass some pills..........this is when i realise that weird bloke' has the contents of the average pharmacy in there & it aint pharmacutical ! & he's armed to the teeth, i'm talking small seige size weapon...........he's popping this stuff like smarties & getting more irratic by the moment...........30 mins or so into the journey, he asks if i mind if we take a detour to drop off some tackle for his mate who's going to a Rave, realising as we hurtled along the Motorway at a vast rate of knots, i actually didnt have a choice i nervously agreed, no sooner had i done this when the car lurched irratically & took the next exit, the car was doing an amazing speed (as was the driver) & as we approached the roundabout at the bottom of the slipway from the Motorway it was obvious he was not going to slow down to negotiate it...............................bang, crash, wallop, fizz, pop, bang !!*^%$£*****$%!..........................car does something (?) then does a tripple backward somersault with Pike ending in a forward roll............the car was left upside down in the middle of the roundabout, i'm that suprised that i'm neither dead nor injured, that without another thought, i disentangle from the seat belt (thank god) & kick open the door, nighter bag in hand i quickly shout over my should 'alright mate' & when i hear some kinda response continued to sprint as quickly as i could, bobbing & weaving (just in case) as far away as i could from my friendly nut case !..............i would add that within 5 mins i came across a phone box & anon reported the accident. Anyhooooooooooooo whilst shaken, i am not deterred from my 100 Club mission & continue through the miserable night to the next slip road, where eventually a trucker takes pity & stops for me, i jumps in & he says he can drop me on the ring road into London.....................wayhay thinks i, small talk over, i end up avin a little kip, its hard work serving Queen & country & a welcome kip before the 100 Club was what i desperately needed............some time later friendly trucker gives me a knock saying we're there, & as i slowly pull myself from the depths of sleep, i realise we're at a service station & not in London................its fu**in' Crewe !!!!.......................... . I never did reach the 100 Club that night, but reckon i escaped death or at the very least a bum battering from the the drug crazed ex jail bird raver..............

Russ

Edited September 23, 2009 by Russ Vickers

[Naughty Boy]

That'd be cool Gilly.

I know I go on a bit with my posts but I'm quite sure there are more than a fair few tales of danger and mis-deed that are worthy of sticking on this thread.

Yes Barry im sure there are quite a few good tales that could be told i know i have a few "fookin brill days" and part of the cut and thrust of nighters

Rob .

[Guest]

l've got one,mate,which involves a masochistic Homosexual and a dog not sure wether to post it cos A)I'm a one finger typer and it'll take me ages b)It might be deemed too risky for this site.C) I may never live it down!!

You have set the scene - and painted one hell of a mental picture , and as a result of doing so have intrigued a lot of people as to your involvement with the stated pair .

We are all mature adults on SS - well some of us are - so get on with your tale of debauchery .......

Malc Burton

Edited September 23, 2009 by Malc Burton

[Barry]

Great tale Barry

I was once Hitch Hiking to the 100 Club from Plymouth, dont know why, but for some reason back in the mid 8ts there was no transport out of Plymouth after 6.30 at night, as i didnt drive back then, after finishing my shift on HMS whatever..........cant remember now, i duelly stood on the slipway to the motorway waiting for my first lift, OMG not a sausage !, i had been waiting some considerable time when a wreck of a car pulled over up the road, i ran up & gave the driver the once over as i asked if he was going or could drop me near or on the way to London...........this was not the kinda guy i would have normally jumped into a car with on a dark Saturday night, however the 100 Club called & on a piss poor night like this was i might never get a another lift, so off we set for some where along the way............'weird bloke' then tells me he's just got out of gaol & has been on the rob all day in Plymouth, all the loot is in the back & do i fancy ought............i reply in the negative (politely) then matey says can you open the glove compartment & pass some pills..........this is when i realise that weird bloke' has the contents of the average pharmacy in there & it aint pharmacutical ! & he's armed to the teeth, i'm talking small seige size weapon...........he's popping this stuff like smarties & getting more irratic by the moment...........30 mins or so into the journey, he asks if i mind if we take a detour to drop off some tackle for his mate who's going to a Rave, realising as we hurtled along the Motorway at a vast rate of knots, i actually didnt have a choice i nervously agreed, no sooner had i done this when the car lurched irratically & took the next exit, the car was doing an amazing speed (as was the driver) & as we approached the roundabout at the bottom of the slipway from the Motorway it was obvious he was not going to slow down to negotiate it...............................bang, crash, wallop, fizz, pop, bang !!*^%$£*****$%!..........................car does something (?) then does a tripple backward somersault with Pike ending in a forward roll............the car was left upside down in the middle of the roundabout, i'm that suprised that i'm neither dead nor injured, that without another thought, i disentangle from the seat belt (thank god) & kick open the door, nighter bag in hand i quickly shout over my should 'alright mate' & when i hear some kinda response continued to sprint as quickly as i could, bobbing & weaving (just in case) as far away as i could from my friendly nut case !..............i would add that within 5 mins i came across a phone box & anon reported the accident. Anyhooooooooooooo whilst shaken, i am not deterred from my 100 Club mission & continue through the miserable night to the next slip road, where eventually a trucker takes pity & stops for me, i jumps in & he says he can drop me on the ring road into London.....................wayhay thinks i, small talk over, i end up avin a little kip, its hard work serving Queen & country & a welcome kip before the 100 Club was what i desperately needed............some time later friendly trucker gives me a knock saying we're there, & as i slowly pull myself from the depths of sleep, i realise we're at a service station & not in London................its fu**in' Crewe !!!!.......................... . I never did reach the 100 Club that night, but reckon i escaped death or at the very least a bum battering from the the drug crazed ex jail bird raver..............

Russ

He-HAAAY!!

Well in Russ.

Come on Naughty Boy, knock one out for the board son.

Should I edit that last statement?

Phil - have a good long think about this one mate - it sounds dangerous ha ha.

[Barry]

The trouble with it as well is it doesn't have a 'Punch-line' either..Don't know why l even mentioned it!!

More like a 'donkey punch' line ay Phil?

[Wayoutgirl]

BRILLIANT!!

[Gilly]

Russ, knowing you ( as you know me) the way you've wrote it is in such a way i can just imagine you telling it to my face, youve really captured the moment of another great story nice one Russ regards Gilly and Nicola

[Chalky]

Then I got knocked down by a car.

Brilliant tale Barry, funny as fook.

[Chalky]

its fu**in' Crewe !!!!.......................... . I never did reach the 100 Club that night, but reckon i escaped death or at the very least a bum battering from the the drug crazed ex jail bird raver..............

Russ

two good laughs in one topic, getting spoilt tonight. Nice one Russ!!

[Guest isis]

I remember I was generally very much a 'bus home' type kid after Wigan. It was cheaper, dropped me off virtually outside my house and didn't involve dealing with too many people the morning after.

The problem with living in Warrington and being in Wigan that early on a Sunday morning was that there was a only a single bus that left Wigan Bus Station at 6.30am, then none 'til 12.30pm, which generally pre-empted the (bugger of a) walk home. It wasn't too bad as I'm sure it was all fields then and eternally sunny .

The bonuses of leaving for the early bus were liberating a pint of milk and a paper from the knotted packages left outside the newsagents in the Arcade - anyway I digress.

This particular morning I had no money left at all and was in a bit of a state as the preceding night I had been at the contents of a small enevelope I had taken with me to sell - I seem to remember up around 3am as Searling announced that M's would be open in five minutes, then nothing til the moment I was outside The Casino in the daylight.

Having no money and being in a state left me with one option - jumping the train, as there was no way I was going to be able to walk the nine mile home this morning and there was no obvious way past the single decker bus driver without my fare home.

I recall wobbling down Fishergate in me long leather and bag and upon arrival at the train station, after a little recce, working out that I could get up to the platform by scaling, Spiderman-like, a massive piece of corrugated sheeting that was leaning from the base of a small wall up to platfrom-heaven. This had no doubt been placed there by some other gimp for that exact same reason.

There's a blank again here but I must have alighted the train as the next thing I recall is being near the toilet inbetween carriages, arms leaning out of the window and approaching Winwick Junction (Winwick being the village just outside Warrington where I lived) - all with an amount of dread within me, as I knew what I was about to have to do.

Now Winwick Junction is a place where the Wigan-Warrington train slowed down to about 10-15 miles an hour as it was crossing a junction/tracks and was the only point on this hairy-journey that would be forgiving enough for me to attempt some kind of parachute jump-like exit from the train.

Not good.

Anyway, there was no way round it, I'd come this far.

I remember biting my lip, grasping the 'Communication Cord' (the 'Use Only In Emergency' brake cord that ran the length of the train)....and pulling!?

F*ck me, I don't know if you've ever been on a train when a 'Communication Cord' has been pulled but it's a pretty violent way to stop a 107 tonne, quarter mile long of rampant iron and steel.

"SCREEEEEEECH!" - "BANG!"

I got threw against the bog door - and then the other way - and then back again....as the train attempted it's non-standard Winwick Junction stop.

Now fully alert, as the fear and the thoughts of the possible consequences of my actions had seemed to morph into an imaginary hand that dove right down the front of my early 80's underpants, grasped my knackers and shoved them up my a*se. Thetrain was almost at a stop now so I grabbed my bag, leant out the carriage, opened the train door and jumped.

I landed like a sack of sh*t and rolled through a load of gravel and weeds into a wire fence.

I stood up, looked down the length of the train toward the engine and to my horror saw about three or four guards hopping off the now stationary train and heading, rather noisily, my way.

I jumped the fence into a very dewy cornfield.

It was as I was wading red-faced and fear fraught through this wet cornfield with my bag held above elbow height and a number of pissed of British Rail workers in tow, that I realised how badly the lining in long leathers handle the addition of water to their make-up. It was like playing that bloody game on Crackerjack whereby when you answered a question wrong they stuffed cabbage upon cabbage on your already straining person (don't now if that makes sense? but anyhow.)

I could see in my immediate view on the other side of a fence an upcoming copse, a small wood and, the irate voices behind me getting nearer and (GET HERE YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!) louder, I began to think I may have an escape route of sorts.

In the distance I heard a BANG!!!, then another but in my present predicament it didn't register as anything life threatening at the time.

I jumped the fence and (BANG!!! again??) dragged my sorry wet arse into the first hiding of trees, there was enough cover for it to mask the sunlight and it became a little twilighty in there. "Great!" I thought as I headed a bit deeper in and looking around (BANG!!! again, louder this time - wtf) I could see our hi-vis wearing be-capped fiends (no spelling mistake, I was scared rigid) beginning to realise this may not be working out in their favour - and they began to bluster and swear at me as they gave up the chase.

I was now in a wood.

And the wood went BANG!!! a lot.

It was at this point I saw my first farmer, out with his mates on a Sunday am hunt!!

BANG!!!

F*ck me, I'm gonna get shot now.

So, adopting a pose somewhere between a Ninja, an SAS infantry man on a mission to nowhere and a piss wet, drugged up teenager in ridiculous coat -with a bag - I set off deeper into the wood, my aim to somehow traverse the local pig-pickers out on their shoot, without getting a hole in my ass.

BANG!!!

"Hey you!?"

I was spotted - "Arse!".

My mind had forgotten the little triumph that was losing our friendly BR div-jumping team and I was back to square one - exept these f*ckers had guns. What I would have given for the fear of a hi-vis jacket now!?

With a group of unhappy farmers on my heels ("Get Orf My Land" an' all that) I went tree to tree, skulking, dipping and diving until I could see the light getting brighter - I must be approaching the other side of the wood at last.

Then ahead of me I could see the white painted wooden fence that I knew to be the fence that skirted the road opposite the old Winwick (Mental) Hospital (read into that what you will. I WORKED there, alright!), a mile or so from my house and with the voices of my irate hunters tailing off in the darkness behind me, I reached the fence.

"Thank f*ck for that!"

I breathed deeply, cobbed me bag over it, steadied myself and with a final mighty effort jumped over the fence and onto the main road.

Then I got knocked down by a car.

Suffering for your art? David Blaine don't know the half of it.

[Guest isis]

HA HA HAAAAA , there's a great Bruce Willis "Unbreakable" type movie in there somewhere.

[munchkinette]

Brilliant stories guys keep em coming, I must have led a sheltered life .

Sharon

[Naughty Boy]

He-HAAAY!!

Well in Russ.

Come on Naughty Boy, knock one out for the board son.

Should I edit that last statement?

Phil - have a good long think about this one mate - it sounds dangerous ha ha.

Well Barry.

there is a god he smiles on me sometimes or was it sheer youthfull luck twice in one day

me and Four mates decided Fri night at the samanthas nighter we were going to the pier nighter sat , so its back home Sat morn meet up a tad later

So at the time we were meeting up sat just after dinnertime . three of us are waiting for the forth to pick us up outside what was my local boozer

at the time. of course our driver was late and the fact he did pills and if we were not outside the boozer he would just drive righton by and go to cleggy. So there we are bags, 3/4 leather coats waiting for lift. when up pulls my very very best mate in his blue avenger squad car... whoops what do i do here cum on im thinking bag full of gear cum on cum what the fu~k shall i do.

" well this guy werent on his busting head he stays in the car window down asking what we are doin and where we are going, i says nowhere just chatting waiting for a mate they wec are going for a drink in a very cocky way" all the time im thinkin to misen cum on cum on how am i going to do this

When he says youll not mind if i do your bags and pockets

SHIT here we go

Still thinking ............ whooooooooooooooooooo fu#k im busted

come here he says to 1st mate "search search "

ditto 2nd mate " search search"

your turn come

I WAS OFF "F U" i said i was gone faster than a hare being chased by a wippet [ now the coppers mistake i know my turf better than him]

there was a rat run that took you down side of pub round back back up other side of pub out on main road, all i could hear was him shouting at me to stop . I ran staight across very bizzeeeeeeeeee main road sat afternoon "im hedghog" but no i just made it with a few swerves and skreeeeeeetches. Now i always part left my holdall zip a tad open for obvious reasons , whilst im running the holdall is geting rifled bag of cayli torpedos now in hand opp side of road round blind corner launch gear over big wall keeps on running back to main road mates on opp side of road with coppers allover so i stops enough exitement

I got frogmarched right down the village by a local beat bobby into the local nic

Strip searched Questioned plenty of slavva two hour later im free back up road over wall and its cleggy bound would be about 75 down at the pier allniter (mid winter the fooking winds howling straight the humber estuary then up ya 32inches before the niter kicked off )right outside the pier there was the shortest dual carriageway in the uk. parked on it was a long line of what would be now termed riot vans u know the van loads of coppers with the odd powder enforcer amongst them .

anyways i arrives about 11ish and theres a right gang of my lot just near the boozer right outside the pier if i remember they called it the submarine they used to have a rock night on. Now because of all the coppers about this boozer was empty doors closed bang up 11.30.

So right thats our cue we all wade in under this large entrance canopy of this pub.

When of the lads says cum on wicksy get ya cassette out lets get the music on. when one says fook Rob gotta show you this (tapes on ) he does a spin been trying that all week he says am goona be betta than theee watch . ok get on wi it i says . now almost every body to a lad n lass were p###ed up

Off he goes .SP~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~N WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBLE........... GRABS ME.......................................FOOKINNNNNNNNNNNNNNN SMASH

THE Submarine doors are no more He'd pulled me through one with him and we had knocked some of the other into the remaining ones......

Theres bodies running allover ...........a blue wave emerged from their cosy slumber from the line of trannies opp side of road.........

collars felt with only a few escapees we are all booted in true Y2009 PC style and we are all taken off in a fleet of vans i think it were Grimsby nick.

( now i should not prob say this but in those days i was the local d###ing cayli (however spelt)arranger } I those days i was quite who gives a Fo~k im smarter than you toss pots

PART " 2 " later

Rob

Edited September 23, 2009 by Naughty Boy

[Naughty Boy]

You could well have passed away by the time l get to the end of this but here goes: No giggling at the back please!!

Well it was the early 80's probably '82 and l was thumbing a lift to Hinkley, my starting point being Padgate,Warrington......(Please remember this doesn't have a punchline..) l was stuck on a slip-road no too far from where l had come from.It was the middle of winter,pitch-black and l was cold,lonely,but neither hungry or tired for some reason.I'd been stood there for a couple of hours and was soaked to the skin.My trick in those days was just try to look pathetic and someone would stop..Tonight it was very easy..

An orange Hillman Avenger passed me and a hundred yards away it stopped.With elation l grabbed my hold-all and ran towards the vehicle which seemed to be emitting an aura. I grabbed the passenger door-handle and opened it"Going anywhere near Hinkley?" l asked intrepidently.There was a black dog on the passengers seat and the smell was indescribably wretched and l felt like vomitting."Yes l live there" came the reply from a man who looked like Austin Powers(hadn't heard of him then tho') He pushed the dog into the back seat."Is it this way he asked?" as he got it into 4th gear..Somethings not right here l thought.................

................. as we drove through the wind and rain into the darkness.

After exchanging the initial niceties his smelly smut started licking the back of my neck,l moved forward and grinned nervously..."He likes you" said Mr.Wierdo.The dog then moved forward to and carried on...Not just trying to lick my neck but also started to f**k the back of my seat as well.I was fending the dog off and the driver managed to get the dog,who by this time was showing his lipstick onto the back-seat with hand..Gratefully l assume my natural position in the seat..

He looked at me and said "l've been a very naughty boy you know!" Pretending l hadn't heard what he said and now seriously panicing l answered "Yer What?" "And when l've been naughty l deserve a damn good spanking" he replied...

Christ l'm gonna get bummed by 'One Man His Dog' l thought.l looked out of the window,Services 1 mile."Could you stop at the next services,please?" "No problem" was his answer.The car stopped and as l got out l asked if he wanted anything."No Thanks" he said...I then shot him between the eyes with my magnum....Well l did tell you there was no punch-line,didn't l?

Kinnel webby fookin hell

well funny

Rob

[Naughty Boy]

What sort of life is that to lead..?? BRILLIANT!!

just a sheltered one

Rob

part 2 if ya wanna 2moz

[Guest]

What sort of life is that to lead..?? BRILLIANT!!

If you lived in South Yorkshire in those days , a typical one if you were on t'scene

Malc Burton

[Barry]

Nice one Phil and Rob, they're deffo Dangerous & Comic Nighter exploits.

All in a nights work wunnit lads?

[Naughty Boy]

If you lived in South Yorkshire in those days , a typical one if you were on t'scene

Malc Burton

Yes Malc it was . for some of us Ho crazeeeeeeeee and happy dayzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Rob

[Naughty Boy]

Nice one Phil and Rob, they're deffo Dangerous & Comic Nighter exploits.

All in a nights work wunnit lads?

Kinnel Barry weren't they just ........ Now these things and many others like them in and outta a nighter

were part of the scene but in many cases (not all) are filed away and subbed with tales that belong on jackanory ( artistic license by folks that were never there or have a romantic view of it)

anyway part 2 later today

Rob

Edited September 24, 2009 by Naughty Boy

[Barry]

Kinnel Barry weren't they just ........ Now these things and many others like them in and outta a nighter

were part of the scene but in many cases (not all) are filed away and subbed with tales that belong on jackanory ( artistic license by folks that were never there or have a romantic view of it)

anyway part 2 later today

Rob

Look forward to it Rob.

I've remembered a quickie about a train journey to the 100's Club that I'll bang down when I get a minute too.

[Guest]

Kinnel Barry weren't they just ........ Now these things and many others like them in and outta a nighter

were part of the scene but in many cases (not all) are filed away and subbed with tales that belong on jackanory ( artistic license by folks that were never there or have a romantic view of it)

anyway part 2 later today

Rob

As you know Rob , that " artistic license " / " romantic view " includes the toilet attendant dispending Brut in the men's trap at The Torch , the revolving doors at The Mecca , and the escaltor at The Casino ......

Malc Burton

Edited September 24, 2009 by Malc Burton

[Cunnie]

If you lived in South Yorkshire in those days , a typical one if you were on t'scene

Malc Burton

Too right Malc

Top thread Barry fella

Not on my own comp at the moment & not got much time but will try to get round to adding the Manchester station story while on't way to Wigan later.

[Phild]

Back in (I think) 1984 I was a regular visitor to the Oddfellows in Leicester and usually hitch-hiked down from Bradford. It didn't usually take too long, maybe 3 hours or so.

This one particular winters Saturday night I set off, got the bus to the top of the M606 and stuck out my thumb. I got my first lift to the M1/M62 junction fairly quickly and then managed to get to Leicester in only another 2 lifts. Result!

I made my way to the venue only to find that i'd got my dates wrong (I was on strong painkillers ) and the nighter was actually the night before.

It's now after midnight and I'm over 100 miles from home, it's raining and freezing. I walked back to the M1 and stuck out my thumb. Two hours later it's started snowing and still no lift so I decided to start walking up the hard shoulder. I'd got about 2/3 miles and a van pulls up with a bunch of lads in and offer to take me as far as Derby.

They look a right lairy bunch, but by this time I can't feel my fingers or toes and they've got cigs and booze and, more importantly, a heater. So I dive in the back of the van and off we go.

I start chatting and it transpires that they've nicked the van and turned over an off-license (hence all the cigs and booze). They guy driving was competely mashed and kept "lightly" clipping the central barrier for a laugh!

After about 10 minutes the police turn up and chase us off the motorway and the nutter driving goes straight over the roundabout at the bottom of the exit slip and into a tree.

Everyone in the van including me are carted off to the local nick in, I believe, Coalville (or some other town round that area).

It took me until 6pm the following evening for me to convince plod that i was an innocent in all this. They dropped me off at the M1 junction 23 and it took me until 7am Monday morning to hitch back home.

Phil

[Naughty Boy]

Back in (I think) 1984 I was a regular visitor to the Oddfellows in Leicester and usually hitch-hiked down from Bradford. It didn't usually take too long, maybe 3 hours or so.

This one particular winters Saturday night I set off, got the bus to the top of the M606 and stuck out my thumb. I got my first lift to the M1/M62 junction fairly quickly and then managed to get to Leicester in only another 2 lifts. Result!

I made my way to the venue only to find that i'd got my dates wrong (I was on strong painkillers ) and the nighter was actually the night before.

It's now after midnight and I'm over 100 miles from home, it's raining and freezing. I walked back to the M1 and stuck out my thumb. Two hours later it's started snowing and still no lift so I decided to start walking up the hard shoulder. I'd got about 2/3 miles and a van pulls up with a bunch of lads in and offer to take me as far as Derby.

They look a right lairy bunch, but by this time I can't feel my fingers or toes and they've got cigs and booze and, more importantly, a heater. So I dive in the back of the van and off we go.

I start chatting and it transpires that they've nicked the van and turned over an off-license (hence all the cigs and booze). They guy driving was competely mashed and kept "lightly" clipping the central barrier for a laugh!

After about 10 minutes the police turn up and chase us off the motorway and the nutter driving goes straight over the roundabout at the bottom of the exit slip and into a tree.

Everyone in the van including me are carted off to the local nick in, I believe, Coalville (or some other town round that area).

It took me until 6pm the following evening for me to convince plod that i was an innocent in all this. They dropped me off at the M1 junction 23 and it took me until 7am Monday morning to hitch back home.

Phil

fookin brill Phil did it learn you owt though like not jumping in vans with a load of strange blokes, you would have been well fooked if Webbys one man and a dog had been with em

Rob

[Naughty Boy]

Well Barry.

there is a god he smiles on me sometimes or was it sheer youthfull luck twice in one day

me and Four mates decided Fri night at the samanthas nighter we were going to the pier nighter sat , so its back home Sat morn meet up a tad later

So at the time we were meeting up sat just after dinnertime . three of us are waiting for the forth to pick us up outside what was my local boozer

at the time. of course our driver was late and the fact he did pills and if we were not outside the boozer he would just drive righton by and go to cleggy. So there we are bags, 3/4 leather coats waiting for lift. when up pulls my very very best mate in his blue avenger squad car... whoops what do i do here cum on im thinking bag full of gear cum on cum what the fu~k shall i do.

" well this guy werent on his busting head he stays in the car window down asking what we are doin and where we are going, i says nowhere just chatting waiting for a mate they wec are going for a drink in a very cocky way" all the time im thinkin to misen cum on cum on how am i going to do this

When he says youll not mind if i do your bags and pockets

SHIT here we go

Still thinking ............ whooooooooooooooooooo fu#k im busted

come here he says to 1st mate "search search "

ditto 2nd mate " search search"

your turn come

I WAS OFF "F U" i said i was gone faster than a hare being chased by a wippet [ now the coppers mistake i know my turf better than him]

there was a rat run that took you down side of pub round back back up other side of pub out on main road, all i could hear was him shouting at me to stop . I ran staight across very bizzeeeeeeeeee main road sat afternoon "im hedghog" but no i just made it with a few swerves and skreeeeeeetches. Now i always part left my holdall zip a tad open for obvious reasons , whilst im running the holdall is geting rifled bag of cayli torpedos now in hand opp side of road round blind corner launch gear over big wall keeps on running back to main road mates on opp side of road with coppers allover so i stops enough exitement

I got frogmarched right down the village by a local beat bobby into the local nic

Strip searched Questioned plenty of slavva two hour later im free back up road over wall and its cleggy bound would be about 75 down at the pier allniter (mid winter the fooking winds howling straight the humber estuary then up ya 32inches before the niter kicked off )right outside the pier there was the shortest dual carriageway in the uk. parked on it was a long line of what would be now termed riot vans u know the van loads of coppers with the odd powder enforcer amongst them .

anyways i arrives about 11ish and theres a right gang of my lot just near the boozer right outside the pier if i remember they called it the submarine they used to have a rock night on. Now because of all the coppers about this boozer was empty doors closed bang up 11.30.

So right thats our cue we all wade in under this large entrance canopy of this pub.

When of the lads says cum on wicksy get ya cassette out lets get the music on. when one says fook Rob gotta show you this (tapes on ) he does a spin been trying that all week he says am goona be betta than theee watch . ok get on wi it i says . now almost every body to a lad n lass were p###ed up

Off he goes .SP~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~N WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBLE........... GRABS ME.......................................FOOKINNNNNNNNNNNNNNN SMASH

THE Submarine doors are no more He'd pulled me through one with him and we had knocked some of the other into the remaining ones......

Theres bodies running allover ...........a blue wave emerged from their cosy slumber from the line of trannies opp side of road.........

collars felt with only a few escapees we are all booted in true Y2009 PC style and we are all taken off in a fleet of vans i think it were Grimsby nick.

( now i should not prob say this but in those days i was the local d###ing cayli (however spelt)arranger } I those days i was quite who gives a Fo~k im smarter than you toss pots

PART " 2 " later

Rob

PART 2

Anyway here i am second time in less than twelve hours on my way to the Nic only trouble this time is im facked with a capital F they jumped us that fast i had no time to dispose of my cayli sherbet whatever etc . so here i am this time ive no chance im banged up in the back of a van with a copper watching us and a few mates with other vans in the convoy carrying the rest of us.

Now im sat there thinking this is going to be your last nighter for a good while lad . Harry houdini could not get outta this ( now i would just add i always had my holdall over my right shoulder unless i was just standing about ,now i allways had the zip a tad open ) i could not get rid of my wares im being watched and listened to.

Well we arrived at the nic we are all taken from the trannie vans together cops allover. holdall over my right shoulder and my left arm is put up my back , Hey ya C##t steady thats hurtin so in true 2009 style "not" he does it again , i did not want to get in that nic well as the crowd of us are slowly led away one by one , i can see more theres a long path leading up to it ( cant remember exactly but if my memory serves me right) this long path was in fact two with large trees hegdes shrubs down the middle anyway plenty vegitation. (everybody is crapping thesens and they knew i was the one that was in for a busting) ... Well trees seen, not all that well lit heres my one and only chance this is either going to work or it aint kinda scenario they aint exactly that clued up these beat bobbies. Holdall is over left shoulder manages to get my left hand in bag and on the stuff i knew exactly where it was quick flick of the wrist no noise needed to distract it was windy that night ( fingers crossed) had i been seen !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

well its through the doors and the whole reception is full with bobbies/ us and the sat night pissheads . Im well chuffed now , fookin aint seen me.

So we are all interviewed yet another strip search usual slavva and we are all slowly released one by one without charge not even for the doors they accepted it was not done intentional like.

they did even offer to take us all back up to the pier, which i had to decline because i had now to go midnight gardening Now how do you find a bag you flicked into the trees Shrubs not knowing exact spot plus theres other dropped rubbish too plus coppers in and out bringing arrests in...........Mission impossible but it were not staying there it had to be liberated it took the best part of a hour ill tell ya and very nearly got re arrested ..Phew yet another niter to remember for good and wrong reasons... All part of the fun though

Rob

[Naughty Boy]

Too right Malc

Top thread Barry fella

Not on my own comp at the moment & not got much time but will try to get round to adding the Manchester station story while on't way to Wigan later.

Come on

Martin get on wi it

[Naughty Boy]

Look forward to it Rob.

I've remembered a quickie about a train journey to the 100's Club that I'll bang down when I get a minute too.

I look forward to it Barry

on the subject of trains me and a couple of mates had one train down to a fine art Cleethorpes Rotherham Sheffield...connection Sheffield Barnsley all for the price of a platform ticket it never failed

Rob

[Naughty Boy]

As you know Rob , that " artistic license " / " romantic view " includes the toilet attendant dispending Brut in the men's trap at The Torch , the revolving doors at The Mecca , and the escaltor at The Casino ......

Malc Burton

Malc

but it come true at the casino allbeit 30years later

[Phild]

fookin brill Phil did it learn you owt though like not jumping in vans with a load of strange blokes, you would have been well fooked if Webbys one man and a dog had been with em

Rob

Like most of my "life" experiences I learnt absolutely nothing

Phil

[Guest]

Malc

but it come true at the casino allbeit 30years later

Correct Rob

What they need to do in order to add realism to it , is a recorded voice shouting " stop f***ing Pushing " when people are on it ......

Malc Burton

Edited September 25, 2009 by Malc Burton

[Naughty Boy]

Correct Rob

What they need to do in order to add realism to it , is a recorded voice shouting " stop f***ing Pushing " when people are on it ......

Malc Burton

Malc that would be good

Rob