PH Usernames! Why did you choose yours??
Discussion
.Frimley111R said:
Live Frimley and had a Lotus Elise 111R at the time. Should have gone for something more generic but still live in Frimely so it's ok
Ever seen this ?http://tmoliff.blogspot.com/2011/11/frimley-n.html
staceyb said:
Stacey would be my name and b is the first letter of my surname. I was thinking of changing it though.
reqds like your about to get divorced lolMine...Gecko after Gordon Gecko I did my Masters in Economics and Financial Instruments so friends called me Gecko and 1978 year I was born.
First things first.
Forza Boris! Please stay well and make it through this. I have everything crossed for that to be the case.
Second things second - bit of a thread revival but I'll explain...
Can't say I'm grateful for the circumstances that have allowed me to find this wee gem.
The stuck-at-home boredom has encouraged me to go delving through some old boxes that haven't been opened in a very long time.
Why did I choose my PH username? I found this today. That's me - top billing
Not sure if it's me or the guy who printed the flyer that's got the spelling wrong.
I reckon it's him - Interrogators needs two r's.
Bear in mind that this was December 1989. The kid that did the poster (Micky something) is probably a multi-millionaire head of IT by now, he was the only guy we knew who had a PC and a printer at the time and had the remotest idea of which was which.
It's made my day finding this. I wasn't even aware that I had it, I genuinely don't recall stashing it away.
The basic backstory is that some REME workshop guys in Dortmund were having a lot of beer one night and the concept of pub-singing was broached upon. Turns out, I was quite good at it. Laughs were had. Smashing.
Soon after, it was announced that each workshop section - as well as each Royal Artillery battery we were attached to - were going to have to produce an act for a Regimental Review. The formation of a band with a pub-singing front man was conceived (over many Herforder Pils) and we were suddenly to be the act representing the workshop. Ulp.
Out of the four of us, two guys were fairly proficient (guitar and drums). I had a silly wig and a can of Fospro stuffed down my Ron Hill trackies.
We didn't win the competition, natch (we weren't Royal Artillery) but it was a bloody good laugh. All joking aside, we did actually practise a bit and weren't that terrible. My own guitar was dusted off, re-strung and put to some good use, because by this time, I had started playing guitar badly as well as singing badly.
The 'gig' on the flyer was as a result of all the rehearsal we'd done. We'd learned and practised a good handful of songs but had only been allowed to play two of them in the competition. Constraints lifted, we increased our repertoire to around a dozen songs, including some pretty reasonable renditions of Guns & Roses (Appetite was very current). Inevitably, however, the least talented amongst us dragged the whole tone down but we were still able to excel with a few Macc Lads covers which went down a storm in a predominantly young-lads environment.
A lot of the wives who attended probably weren't so enamoured of the damp smell and all the beer sloshing about the horrible underground bar we played in, nor the frenetic singing to the chorus of a particularly offensive song called 'God's gift to women.'
Excuse the ramble. Finding that flyer has stirred so many old memories!
Once again, get well soon Boris.
What surreal times we live in.
Forza Boris! Please stay well and make it through this. I have everything crossed for that to be the case.
Second things second - bit of a thread revival but I'll explain...
Can't say I'm grateful for the circumstances that have allowed me to find this wee gem.
The stuck-at-home boredom has encouraged me to go delving through some old boxes that haven't been opened in a very long time.
Why did I choose my PH username? I found this today. That's me - top billing
Not sure if it's me or the guy who printed the flyer that's got the spelling wrong.
I reckon it's him - Interrogators needs two r's.
Bear in mind that this was December 1989. The kid that did the poster (Micky something) is probably a multi-millionaire head of IT by now, he was the only guy we knew who had a PC and a printer at the time and had the remotest idea of which was which.
It's made my day finding this. I wasn't even aware that I had it, I genuinely don't recall stashing it away.
The basic backstory is that some REME workshop guys in Dortmund were having a lot of beer one night and the concept of pub-singing was broached upon. Turns out, I was quite good at it. Laughs were had. Smashing.
Soon after, it was announced that each workshop section - as well as each Royal Artillery battery we were attached to - were going to have to produce an act for a Regimental Review. The formation of a band with a pub-singing front man was conceived (over many Herforder Pils) and we were suddenly to be the act representing the workshop. Ulp.
Out of the four of us, two guys were fairly proficient (guitar and drums). I had a silly wig and a can of Fospro stuffed down my Ron Hill trackies.
We didn't win the competition, natch (we weren't Royal Artillery) but it was a bloody good laugh. All joking aside, we did actually practise a bit and weren't that terrible. My own guitar was dusted off, re-strung and put to some good use, because by this time, I had started playing guitar badly as well as singing badly.
The 'gig' on the flyer was as a result of all the rehearsal we'd done. We'd learned and practised a good handful of songs but had only been allowed to play two of them in the competition. Constraints lifted, we increased our repertoire to around a dozen songs, including some pretty reasonable renditions of Guns & Roses (Appetite was very current). Inevitably, however, the least talented amongst us dragged the whole tone down but we were still able to excel with a few Macc Lads covers which went down a storm in a predominantly young-lads environment.
A lot of the wives who attended probably weren't so enamoured of the damp smell and all the beer sloshing about the horrible underground bar we played in, nor the frenetic singing to the chorus of a particularly offensive song called 'God's gift to women.'
Excuse the ramble. Finding that flyer has stirred so many old memories!
Once again, get well soon Boris.
What surreal times we live in.
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