Yen's stories

[Slowlycatchymonkey]

Love this. I want a chunk!

[yen_powell]

Vandal and the sex toy.

We had two new staff, one was a buyer who was told he had to get hands on experience before going to work in the office (Steve, recently failed SAS selection apparently), the other was someone from Suffolk who got the job of looking after the yard stock records (Dave). They got on well and liked playing jokes on each other.

One day Steve had a letter brought down to him by one of the girls in the office, she looked a bit red faced. It was a dirty video and sex aids catalogue. Someone had snipped out an advert in the back of the paper and filled his name and the firm's address as a joke to embarrass him. It worked and he thought he knew who had done it, Dave the new stock bloke.

A week or so goes by and a parcel arrives, addressed to Dave. This one contains a few of the cheaper toys advertised. Once again one of the girls brought it down. There were a few cheap things, one was some sort of vibrating anal toy, batteries were taken from a desk calculator and great delight was expressed by all when the thing buzzed across the table like a mad thing and shot off the other end. Steve had probably done it as a way of getting back at Dave. Things settled down for a little while.

A week later, I came back from lunch and there was a trail of blood running the length of the yard and an ambulance just leaving. My young boss, Vandal had walked (or more likely run like a loon, knowing him) past a pallet of sheet steel and it had cut across his leg just above the foot. It later turned out it had severed some tendons.

Vandal was operated on and plastered up to the mid thigh and off sick for ages. Another week passed and I got a phone call from Big Frank, the yard foreman asking if I could come up to the office to see him without making a fuss. I went up the stairs and found him in a back office with a large parcel, he looked worried and was crossing himself. Silently he showed me the address label, it had Vandal's real name on it. Inside was another catalogue and a large pink drum like object. It had an orifice lined with what I can only described as latex type bubble wrap. Attached by an air line was a hand pump for tightening said orifice and a cable leading to an on/off switch and a battery holder to make thing buzz.

Big Frank was a good catholic, the object was obviously sinful, the Pope wouldn't like it, but Vandal was the reason the firm made lots of money and he too was a fellow Catholic, religion was thicker than water. We consulted the catalogue that was in the box, this item was extremely pricey, too much to be a joke present. Big Frank said we had to ring Vandal, then he said I had to do it. I picked up the phone and dialled.

Vandal, was the sort of hyperactive person who ran everywhere and his speech patterns were the same, fast and machine gun like. He rattled off a hello, jabbered on for ages then asked what I wanted. I informed him he had post here. It didn't click, and he jabbered some more before asking what it was. I told him it was a large parcel and the line went silent for a second. "It's not mine!" he squeaked down the phone. I said I would put it in our office loft and he could collect it when he returned to work. "I don't know what you're talking about!!" he shouted and put the phone down.

Someone had obviously blabbed. Before I could hide it away, a long procession of oily and grubby men walked into our sorting room demanding to see the already famous object. Every time they had finished looking the thing was getting more and more dirty finger prints all over it. I gave it a quick wipe with a damp cloth and poked it up into the little loft above our room.

Vandal was off for nearly 3 or 4 months and when his plaster was removed he had one very strong leg and a sort of thin stringy leg, because even with a leg out of action he just hopped everywhere at speed. He had to have physio for a year after coming back to work. The object that he denied knowing about was not in the loft the day after he returned to work.

[XTreme]

3 minutes ago, yen_powell said:

Vandal and the sex toy.

We had two new staff, one was a buyer who was told he had to get hands on experience before going to work in the office (Steve, recently failed SAS selection apparently), the other was someone from Suffolk who got the job of looking after the yard stock records (Dave). They got on well and liked playing jokes on each other.

One day Steve had a letter brought down to him by one of the girls in the office, she looked a bit red faced. It was a dirty video and sex aids catalogue. Someone had snipped out an advert in the back of the paper and filled his name and the firm's address as a joke to embarrass him. It worked and he thought he knew who had done it, Dave the new stock bloke.

A week or so goes by and a parcel arrives, addressed to Dave. This one contains a few of the cheaper toys advertised. Once again one of the girls brought it down. There were a few cheap things, one was some sort of vibrating anal toy, batteries were taken from a desk calculator and great delight was expressed by all when the thing buzzed across the table like a mad thing and shot off the other end. Steve had probably done it as a way of getting back at Dave. Things settled down for a little while.

A week later, I came back from lunch and there was a trail of blood running the length of the yard and an ambulance just leaving. My young boss, Vandal had walked (or more likely run like a loon, knowing him) past a pallet of sheet steel and it had cut across his leg just above the foot. It later turned out it had severed some tendons.

Vandal was operated on and plastered up to the mid thigh and off sick for ages. Another week passed and I got a phone call from Big Frank, the yard foreman asking if I could come up to the office to see him without making a fuss. I went up the stairs and found him in a back office with a large parcel, he looked worried and was crossing himself. Silently he showed me the address label, it had Vandal's real name on it. Inside was another catalogue and a large pink drum like object. It had an orifice lined with what I can only described as latex type bubble wrap. Attached by an air line was a hand pump for tightening said orifice and a cable leading to an on/off switch and a battery holder to make thing buzz.

Big Frank was a good catholic, the object was obviously sinful, the Pope wouldn't like it, but Vandal was the reason the firm made lots of money and he too was a fellow Catholic, religion was thicker than water. We consulted the catalogue that was in the box, this item was extremely pricey, too much to be a joke present. Big Frank said we had to ring Vandal, then he said I had to do it. I picked up the phone and dialled.

Vandal, was the sort of hyperactive person who ran everywhere and his speech patterns were the same, fast and machine gun like. He rattled off a hello, jabbered on for ages then asked what I wanted. I informed him he had post here. It didn't click, and he jabbered some more before asking what it was. I told him it was a large parcel and the line went silent for a second. "It's not mine!" he squeaked down the phone. I said I would put it in our office loft and he could collect it when he returned to work. "I don't know what you're talking about!!" he shouted and put the phone down.

Someone had obviously blabbed. Before I could hide it away, a long procession of oily and grubby men walked into our sorting room demanding to see the already famous object. Every time they had finished looking the thing was getting more and more dirty finger prints all over it. I gave it a quick wipe with a damp cloth and poked it up into the little loft above our room.

Vandal was off for nearly 3 or 4 months and when his plaster was removed he had one very strong leg and a sort of thin stringy leg, because even with a leg out of action he just hopped everywhere at speed. He had to have physio for a year after coming back to work. The object that he denied knowing about was not in the loft the day after he returned to work.

You've really worked with some odd people Yen?

[yen_powell]

Just now, XTreme said:

You've really worked with some odd people Yen?

No internet then, it was the only way to meet people who were peculiar. It's much easier nowadays innit.

[XTreme]

1 minute ago, yen_powell said:

No internet then, it was the only way to meet people who were peculiar. It's much easier nowadays innit.

From what I can see, the people who have personality or are "characters" are a dying breed!

The younger generation who were brought up in the internet era seem to be devoid of that in real life interactions.

And the older ones who maybe once had a bit of spark in them have now degenerated into miserable, complaining twats!

[yen_powell]

https://spitalfieldslife.com/2021/04/24/william-anthony-the-last-of-the-charlies-o/

[XTreme]

4 minutes ago, yen_powell said:

https://spitalfieldslife.com/2021/04/24/william-anthony-the-last-of-the-charlies-o/

Didn't he used to be in Ren's gang? 

[yen_powell]

I once shared an office with the Highways Maintenance people, the School Dinners monitoring mob, Parks department, abandoned vehicle wollahs, skip licencing experts and the Cleansing blokes at a time when my borough had been subdivided into 7 mini councils. What this meant in reality was that we got 7 very expensive chief executives and lots of managers but the staff who did the actual work did more tasks than usual, but over a smaller area. So the people mentioned above numbered 3 or 4 in total.

So the man in charge of all the above 3 people looked after the general dustcarty type stuff, but also clinical waste, dead animal disposal, winter gritting and the washing of shitty clothes for ill people. The last was used to wash our building's union flag which was briefly on display until mobs appeared on a protest saying it was racist against the local Indian population. My comment from the back of the room that it had been their flag for a few hundred years were ignored.

One day I heard this bloke take a call from a distressed resident who's Alsation had died at home. They wanted to know if the council would take it away and dispose of it properly. He asked where they lived and said that he had to walk past their flat on his way home for lunch so he would drop a form in to them which they needed to fill in before he could arrange it.

So he knocks on the door and it opens. A tearful woman took the form from his hand, then before he could turn away, the man of the house appeared and plonked a blanketed dog's body into his arms so quickly it was grab it or let it fall to the floor. He had to get quite stern with them before they finally took it back off him. Put him right off his lunch he said.

A short time before I had shared an office with the Planners and Environmental Health. This meant that whenever I went to the fridge to get milk for tea making I would see things like a dented tin with BOTULISM written on it in magic marker. One day one of the EH ladies came in (the lovely Sandra from Brum) and asked if I had a magnifying glass. When I asked what for she said that she had just been putting sticky tape down on someone's bed to capture samples of whatever was living in it, she showed me a wallet full of bits of tape. I thought for a while and then it came to me. The Microfiche machine! That made things big. Sure enough we popped a bit of tape in and this shadowy image came up in startling detail.

She had a bug ID book and you worked through from head to tail on any bug, ticking things off as you looked at each part and eventually arrived at what it actually was. Something like a red chicken mite I think, how that got into a bed I have no idea.

[yen_powell]

I once had a letter from a man objecting to me converting 3 zebra crossings on the same road into Pelican crossings (1995ish). His argument was that I had taken his rights as a pedestrian away because where as once he could step out on the crossing and the vehicles should legally stop, now he had to press a button and wait till the red light stopped them. He demanded that we rig them so that they remained on a red signal/green man normally and any driver wishing to pass would have to wind down their window and press a button and wait to get a green light/red man before proceeding.

I laughed back then, but it seems he was years ahead of his time.

https://metro.co.uk/2021/05/27/london-pedestrian-crossings-to-have-green-man-unless-car-approaches-14661654/

[yen_powell]

This is not me, but it is pretty much my journey to work (pre covid) at least once a week and the main reason I ride a bike to work if at all possible. Having said pre-covid, I did go through a 5 mile queue last week, traffic nearly back to normal and I had to go in at normal commuting hour to meet some white liners.

Reason for a 10 mile queue (or longer) on my motorway part of the trip is usually:- Someone driving like a prat coming a cropper and crashing, a loose horse or cow running about on a motorway, or an HGV tipping over at it makes the turn north from the M25 onto the M11. The last thing happens so often I can't believe they don't reprofile the cross fall.

 

[XTreme]

Shit.....that's a nightmare!

[Pedro]

17 minutes ago, yen_powell said:

This is not me, but it is pretty much my journey to work (pre covid) at least once a week and the main reason I ride a bike to work if at all possible. Having said pre-covid, I did go through a 5 mile queue last week, traffic nearly back to normal and I had to go in at normal commuting hour to meet some white liners.

Reason for a 10 mile queue (or longer) on my motorway part of the trip is usually:- Someone driving like a prat coming a cropper and crashing, a loose horse or cow running about on a motorway, or an HGV tipping over at it makes the turn north from the M25 onto the M11. The last thing happens so often I can't believe they don't reprofile the cross fall.

 

I would consider buying a cbr600 or something like that with narrow bars just for that commute. I do appreciate the ability riders used to ride in London have to filter with inches to spare on each side of the bike, though.

[boboneleg]

The best thing for a commute is a twist and go scooter imo but once Yen gets into London he probably get hijacked on one of those

[yen_powell]

A few years ago I had to go and look at something in a road called St Leonard's Road. It's a road I always confuse with St Leonard's Street which is not far away, but separated physically by the building of the Blackwall Tunnel Approach in the 1960s. As I was riding along it I went past a statue that made me hit my brakes and spin round and take another gander. The artist who created it clearly didn't think it through. It's innocent looking from all other angles.

[XTreme]

5 minutes ago, yen_powell said:

A few years ago I had to go and look at something in a road called St Leonard's Road. It's a road I always confuse with St Leonard's Street which is not far away, but separated physically by the building of the Blackwall Tunnel Approach in the 1960s. As I was riding along it I went past a statue that made me hit my brakes and spin round and take another gander. The artist who created it clearly didn't think it through. It's innocent looking from all other angles.

Do people drive past and laugh at it Yen? 

[yen_powell]

4 hours ago, XTreme said:

Do people drive past and laugh at it Yen? 

I've got a horrible feeling I'm the only sicko to have noticed it.

[yen_powell]

I mentioned earlier in this thread about the yard foreman, a young bloke called Tony. As stated, he was all good looks and muscles and he liked the ladies.

Our yard was squeezed between the river and a load of flats and maisonettes in Barking called The Gascoigne Estate. Named after the Gascoignes who had been the big cheeses and land owners for hundreds of years. A few old fogies on here will know one of the family as he used to host University Challenge.

I was mooching about the yard one day and happened to look out of the gate. I was used to seeing odd people wandering about, plus we were in a road with various types of yard all down the same side as the river which meant we had some strange people working in them. On this day I looked and saw a man wearing a white Judo suit. He was on the little green shown on the right below with the big tree. He was doing all the harry karry stuff, kicks, chops, all directed at the tree shown. Basically he was being a bit of a knob.

I could also see Tony, flying about in a fork lift. I called out to him and he roared up and came to a skidding halt. 'Wassup Yen?' he was the one who christened me with that name, it developed out of shouting Ian in a noisy yard.

'There's a bloke outside, says you have been messing with his woman, he is waiting for you!' Tony looked out the gates and there is this twat punching imaginary baddies and kicking invisible things above his head, he's really going for it now. To give Tony his due, he jumped out of the fork lift and was on his way out to the bloke before I managed to stop him.

Tony got me back later that day, he had me sitting on the top rails of a covered articulated lorry to help pull the sheet over. He told me to sit still on the rail whilst they moved the lorry up a few yards so they could line up the next load from the road side. What I didn't know and he did was that there was a large tree branch behind me. As the lorry  backed up I was pushed off the rail and down into the skips of swarf. I lay just inside the skip covered in small pieces of metal and cutting oil. A blonde head appeared over the edge and a finger was wagged in my direction as he told me not to ever try and get one over on him again. 

[Sir Fallsalot]

There was a similar pair down our way when i was in my early teens, me and a mate used to be stalking in the woods shooting at anything that did or didn't move and would often bump into this guy practicing martial arts of some form on a tree, Dai Kung we called him he had twin brother that done the same, when they were together they were called the kungs 

[Slowlycatchymonkey]

3 hours ago, yen_powell said:

I mentioned earlier in this thread about the yard foreman, a young bloke called Tony. As stated, he was all good looks and muscles and he liked the ladies.

Our yard was squeezed between the river and a load of flats and maisonettes in Barking called The Gascoigne Estate. Named after the Gascoignes who had been the big cheeses and land owners for hundreds of years. A few old fogies on here will know one of the family as he used to host University Challenge.

I was mooching about the yard one day and happened to look out of the gate. I was used to seeing odd people wandering about, plus we were in a road with various types of yard all down the same side as the river which meant we had some strange people working in them. On this day I looked and saw a man wearing a white Judo suit. He was on the little green shown on the right below with the big tree. He was doing all the harry karry stuff, kicks, chops, all directed at the tree shown. Basically he was being a bit of a knob.

I could also see Tony, flying about in a fork lift. I called out to him and he roared up and came to a skidding halt. 'Wassup Yen?' he was the one who christened me with that name, it developed out of shouting Ian in a noisy yard.

'There's a bloke outside, says you have been messing with his woman, he is waiting for you!' Tony looked out the gates and there is this twat punching imaginary baddies and kicking invisible things above his head, he's really going for it now. To give Tony his due, he jumped out of the fork lift and was on his way out to the bloke before I managed to stop him.

Tony got me back later that day, he had me sitting on the top rails of a covered articulated lorry to help pull the sheet over. He told me to sit still on the rail whilst they moved the lorry up a few yards so they could line up the next load from the road side. What I didn't know and he did was that there was a large tree branch behind me. As the lorry  backed up I was pushed off the rail and down into the skips of swarf. I lay just inside the skip covered in small pieces of metal and cutting oil. A blonde head appeared over the edge and a finger was wagged in my direction as he told me not to ever try and get one over on him again. 

I love where the name ‘Yen’ came from.

[yen_powell]

My mate xxx,  a fellow council worker, had the hots for a particular girl and in a drunken moment invited her to come with him to the bike show run by the Hells' Angels at some drag race place in the midlands, can't remember what it was called. Sir Fallsalot will know, I'm sure he has been.

Now xxx had a habit of misunderstanding females when they said yes to his invitations and this had caused a few problems at various events, including a drunk Irish girlfriend of his trying to attack another girl at 2am as she slept in her tent and him breaking up with said girlfriend by text as she flew home because he was too scared to do it in person after she went for him with a whisky bottle in a pub. But that's a whole other story.

Anyway, he's got the hots for some girl, he has got drunk one night down the village pub and invited her to this HA show, she has said what a good idea, he has bought the tickets. He is plumping up the seat of his GSXR1100 and zipping two sleeping bags together ready for a weekend of passion. Then it turns out that what she actually meant was she would be going with her boyfriend he didn't know about and her friend was also coming and could xxx give her a lift on his bike and put her up in his tent.

Xxx is a bit of a shallow person and his exact words to me were that he didn't like to stare but he had never seen such an odd looking girl as the friend he was supposed to take. A healthy strapping girl with a large, even huge head of red frizzy hair was roughly how he described her (no offence Pete). Basically, there was no way he was taking her, but on the other hand he still harboured hopes of success with the girl he did like so was in a panic about how to get out of it and still keep on her good side. In a moment of inspiration he asked me to go to this rally on the back of his bike and share his tent so he could tell the flame haired maiden that he could not take her after all as it was my lifelong dream to go. I said no way in hell was I doing either, I had suffered both of those fates before!!

Now he was/is notoriously tight, he has been known to glue on a set of heated grips given to him by a fellow rider for the Elephant Rally in Germany (pay me when you get back they thought he'd agreed to) and he carefully removed them and handed them back to the original owner after getting home. So imagine my shock when he asked if it was the cost stopping me, because he would happily give me his spare ticket for free. I said no again. He kept asking me every time he saw me, this went on for weeks.

Then I found out that Chuck Berry was playing at this rally. I remember being very tempted to go, the chance to see one of the original rock and rollers, I mean, he couldn't have many years left could he? But then I thought long and hard and decided it would be funnier to wind xxx up about spending the weekend with the ginger siren.

Come the weekend of doom and I couldn't resist ringing him up on his mobile on Friday night. I may have made some comments about checking his sleeping bag for red curly hairs when he got back, but no, my fun was ruined. His actual words were, "Very funny, well as it happens, I have had a bit of luck. Her friend has been in a serious car accident and couldn't go after all." He is a charmer isn't he. So I switched to my second line of piss taking, asking how he was getting on with his quest for romance with the girl he did fancy and did her huge boyfriend put any sort of damper on that. Turns out they had both decided not to go after all, he was there on his own (relatively speaking).

Oh yeah, Chuck Berry was ill and didn't play I hear, so I wouldn't have seen him anyway!

 

[XTreme]

25 minutes ago, yen_powell said:

My mate xxx,  a fellow council worker, had the hots for a particular girl and in a drunken moment invited her to come with him to the bike show run by the Hells' Angels at some drag race place in the midlands, can't remember what it was called. Sir Fallsalot will know, I'm sure he has been.

Now xxx had a habit of misunderstanding females when they said yes to his invitations and this had caused a few problems at various events, including a drunk Irish girlfriend of his trying to attack another girl at 2am as she slept in her tent and him breaking up with said girlfriend by text as she flew home because he was too scared to do it in person after she went for him with a whisky bottle in a pub. But that's a whole other story.

Anyway, he's got the hots for some girl, he has got drunk one night down the village pub and invited her to this HA show, she has said what a good idea, he has bought the tickets. He is plumping up the seat of his GSXR1100 and zipping two sleeping bags together ready for a weekend of passion. Then it turns out that what she actually meant was she would be going with her boyfriend he didn't know about and her friend was also coming and could xxx give her a lift on his bike and put her up in his tent.

Xxx is a bit of a shallow person and his exact words to me were that he didn't like to stare but he had never seen such an odd looking girl as the friend he was supposed to take. A healthy strapping girl with a large, even huge head of red frizzy hair was roughly how he described her (no offence Pete). Basically, there was no way he was taking her, but on the other hand he still harboured hopes of success with the girl he did like so was in a panic about how to get out of it and still keep on her good side. In a moment of inspiration he asked me to go to this rally on the back of his bike and share his tent so he could tell the flame haired maiden that he could not take her after all as it was my lifelong dream to go. I said no way in hell was I doing either, I had suffered both of those fates before!!

Now he was/is notoriously tight, he has been known to glue on a set of heated grips given to him by a fellow rider for the Elephant Rally in Germany (pay me when you get back they thought he'd agreed to) and he carefully removed them and handed them back to the original owner after getting home. So imagine my shock when he asked if it was the cost stopping me, because he would happily give me his spare ticket for free. I said no again. He kept asking me every time he saw me, this went on for weeks.

Then I found out that Chuck Berry was playing at this rally. I remember being very tempted to go, the chance to see one of the original rock and rollers, I mean, he couldn't have many years left could he? But then I thought long and hard and decided it would be funnier to wind xxx up about spending the weekend with the ginger siren.

Come the weekend of doom and I couldn't resist ringing him up on his mobile on Friday night. I may have made some comments about checking his sleeping bag for red curly hairs when he got back, but no, my fun was ruined. His actual words were, "Very funny, well as it happens, I have had a bit of luck. Her friend has been in a serious car accident and couldn't go after all." He is a charmer isn't he. So I switched to my second line of piss taking, asking how he was getting on with his quest for romance with the girl he did fancy and did her huge boyfriend put any sort of damper on that. Turns out they had both decided not to go after all, he was there on his own (relatively speaking).

Oh yeah, Chuck Berry was ill and didn't play I hear, so I wouldn't have seen him anyway!

 

None of them showed up cos they heard you were going Yen.

[Pedro]

And we’re back with Yen’s stories

[Sir Fallsalot]

53 minutes ago, yen_powell said:

My mate xxx,  a fellow council worker, had the hots for a particular girl and in a drunken moment invited her to come with him to the bike show run by the Hells' Angels at some drag race place in the midlands, can't remember what it was called. Sir Fallsalot will know, I'm sure he has been.

Now xxx had a habit of misunderstanding females when they said yes to his invitations and this had caused a few problems at various events, including a drunk Irish girlfriend of his trying to attack another girl at 2am as she slept in her tent and him breaking up with said girlfriend by text as she flew home because he was too scared to do it in person after she went for him with a whisky bottle in a pub. But that's a whole other story.

Anyway, he's got the hots for some girl, he has got drunk one night down the village pub and invited her to this HA show, she has said what a good idea, he has bought the tickets. He is plumping up the seat of his GSXR1100 and zipping two sleeping bags together ready for a weekend of passion. Then it turns out that what she actually meant was she would be going with her boyfriend he didn't know about and her friend was also coming and could xxx give her a lift on his bike and put her up in his tent.

Xxx is a bit of a shallow person and his exact words to me were that he didn't like to stare but he had never seen such an odd looking girl as the friend he was supposed to take. A healthy strapping girl with a large, even huge head of red frizzy hair was roughly how he described her (no offence Pete). Basically, there was no way he was taking her, but on the other hand he still harboured hopes of success with the girl he did like so was in a panic about how to get out of it and still keep on her good side. In a moment of inspiration he asked me to go to this rally on the back of his bike and share his tent so he could tell the flame haired maiden that he could not take her after all as it was my lifelong dream to go. I said no way in hell was I doing either, I had suffered both of those fates before!!

Now he was/is notoriously tight, he has been known to glue on a set of heated grips given to him by a fellow rider for the Elephant Rally in Germany (pay me when you get back they thought he'd agreed to) and he carefully removed them and handed them back to the original owner after getting home. So imagine my shock when he asked if it was the cost stopping me, because he would happily give me his spare ticket for free. I said no again. He kept asking me every time he saw me, this went on for weeks.

Then I found out that Chuck Berry was playing at this rally. I remember being very tempted to go, the chance to see one of the original rock and rollers, I mean, he couldn't have many years left could he? But then I thought long and hard and decided it would be funnier to wind xxx up about spending the weekend with the ginger siren.

Come the weekend of doom and I couldn't resist ringing him up on his mobile on Friday night. I may have made some comments about checking his sleeping bag for red curly hairs when he got back, but no, my fun was ruined. His actual words were, "Very funny, well as it happens, I have had a bit of luck. Her friend has been in a serious car accident and couldn't go after all." He is a charmer isn't he. So I switched to my second line of piss taking, asking how he was getting on with his quest for romance with the girl he did fancy and did her huge boyfriend put any sort of damper on that. Turns out they had both decided not to go after all, he was there on his own (relatively speaking).

Oh yeah, Chuck Berry was ill and didn't play I hear, so I wouldn't have seen him anyway!

 

That sounds like the bulldog bash been a few times but i prefer the smaller rallies, they used to get about 40,000 there, last time i was there was about 20 years ago i think

[yen_powell]

16 hours ago, Sir Fallsalot said:

That sounds like the bulldog bash been a few times but i prefer the smaller rallies, they used to get about 40,000 there, last time i was there was about 20 years ago i think

That's the jobbie. I used to go to the 'other' one. Kent's Custom Show. The last time there I missed Debbie Harry on stage as I was dying of a fatal dose of ear ache?? I preferred it when they didn't have famous people playing music, I liked the rubbish bands they had in the years leading up to that. Suzi Quatro was good though.

[XTreme]

18 minutes ago, yen_powell said:

That's the jobbie. I used to go to the 'other' one. Kent's Custom Show. The last time there I missed Debbie Harry on stage as I was dying of a fatal dose of ear ache?? I preferred it when they didn't have famous people playing music, I liked the rubbish bands they had in the years leading up to that. Suzi Quatro was good though.

And I seem to remember you going to Wales to meet up with the guys and then ending up in Hospital?

About 2004/2005?