..

...and his nuts were never seen again.

Attachment 36884
Attachment 36885

http://www.cellar.org/attachment.php...1&d=1327181476

That is so true. Oh man, the time I got all my friends to joust with bamboo poles while riding our stingrays. It was excellent until first blood. Then, not such a good idea.

I remember the big boys at number 11 carrying my screaming sister home after a spill from her bike. You could still see her blood on the pavement the next day.

The funny thing is that the kids who did that stuff in the 70s are the same exact people who are over protective of their own kids today. Weird.

True dat.
My sister never let hers out of her sight when they were younger - it was all arranged play-dates at her house. We pretty much ran wild when we were younger.

Also we were farmed off to our Grandparents for long stretches of the school holidays. Okay it was necessary because of Mum & Dad's shift patterns, but she has stayed in part time work purely so that she is available all through the school holidays.

Nothing wrong with that, they can obviously afford it. But I wonder what they will do when A goes off to Uni in a year and a half. I have a suspicion that my sister will change jobs in order to earn more money to support her. It has always been about her, rather than my nephew.

Oh man, the time I got all my friends to joust with bamboo poles while riding our stingrays. It was excellent until first blood. Then, not such a good idea.

Like !!!

Or the BB gun wars , How quick would a swat team show up if there was a dozen kids running around with rifles and pistols shooting at each other now days , Not to mention the wrist rocket /cherry bomb artillery !!!

good times, good times

I remember at 6....6! leaving the house on a Saturday morning before my parents were awake and going to play at the construction site. I'd come home for lunch or to poop..... but then pweeer... gone again.

great times.

In theory i asn't supposed to go beyon the street when i was 6...

In reality I spent a very large portion of my early childhood roaming the park up th road, or building dens in th 'chicky factory' which was a derelict old mill converted into a meat processing factory for a few years and then abandoned.

In the grounds there was a old air raid shelter. The kind that went underground. perfect den! And the collapsed bit of roof made a great secret doorway.

I was sort of part of th ever-changing, numbers shiftin, tribe of youngsters of varying ages who roamed about the place.


I recall on one of several occasions no doubt, trying to convince mum that I hadn't been to the chikcy factory, and failing on account of being completely covered in black dust.


[eta] often accompanied by Shep, the border collie cross who lived across the street from me, and whose owner used to let out before he left for work, and then shout in for tea when he got back. *shrugs* he was a dog. he needed his freedom. It was the 70s.

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Classic - a classic.
I had to look twice.

I'd say TG rather than TV, but lets not talk about that.