Really stupid things you and your mates did as kids...
Discussion
I got my first car for my 15th birthday (Suzuki SJ410) and tooled around off-road at my parents caravan site (near Annan) in it, but as I was at the site for the whole summer and my parents only there on weekend I used to take off down to Dumfries, Gretna, Lockerbie etc... with my friends and our golf clubs, bikes, small dinghy, etc... was an ace summer 1998!
Lots of instances of alcohol combined with fire, swimming, lakes, rivers, leading visiting tourist females astray (although in my defence it was a young German girl who led me astray first)
Lots of instances of alcohol combined with fire, swimming, lakes, rivers, leading visiting tourist females astray (although in my defence it was a young German girl who led me astray first)
Some great stories here. 
Things I can remember doing:
Making a fire pit out of bricks and the like. Filling it with combustible stuff, dowsing it with petrol, lighting it then covering over the opening. After half a minute or so of no action we knocked the cover off and a fireball shot out (fortunately we weren't close).
Camping out in our back garden and going 'garden hopping' around midnight. Came to a large (6ft plus) privet hedge that we couldn't get over. My mate decided it would be a good idea to 'shot put' a large garden stone over the hedge. It sounded like it brought down about half a greenhouse.
Black widow catapults, and a bag of pebbles scraped off the middle of one of those seventies 'two strips of concrete with pebbles in the middle' drives. Metal garage doors make a surprisingly large clang when hit with pebbles from a black widow.
Deciding it would be a good idea to go down the local steep road on skateboards with no thought about how to stop before the main road at the bottom. I had to jump off the skateboard at about Mach 9 and did a great Colt Severs impersonation resulting in burning a hole in the back of my denim jacket and taking a fair bit of skin off my shoulder. On the same hill we went down with two of us sat on a skateboard and my friend braking with his trainers, resulting in him burning the heels off his trainers.
Things I can remember doing:
Making a fire pit out of bricks and the like. Filling it with combustible stuff, dowsing it with petrol, lighting it then covering over the opening. After half a minute or so of no action we knocked the cover off and a fireball shot out (fortunately we weren't close).
Camping out in our back garden and going 'garden hopping' around midnight. Came to a large (6ft plus) privet hedge that we couldn't get over. My mate decided it would be a good idea to 'shot put' a large garden stone over the hedge. It sounded like it brought down about half a greenhouse.
Black widow catapults, and a bag of pebbles scraped off the middle of one of those seventies 'two strips of concrete with pebbles in the middle' drives. Metal garage doors make a surprisingly large clang when hit with pebbles from a black widow.
Deciding it would be a good idea to go down the local steep road on skateboards with no thought about how to stop before the main road at the bottom. I had to jump off the skateboard at about Mach 9 and did a great Colt Severs impersonation resulting in burning a hole in the back of my denim jacket and taking a fair bit of skin off my shoulder. On the same hill we went down with two of us sat on a skateboard and my friend braking with his trainers, resulting in him burning the heels off his trainers.
jumare said:
Opel-GT said:
Ah OK. A family friends children (one named David) and a few friends got stuck in Box Tunnel in Wiltshire and I just if this was the truth of what they got up too. 
Stuck in Box tunnel, that's an active main line if it's true it must have been scary. There certainly isn't any water (that deep) in Box tunnel otherwise trains would need snorkels..As for childhood activity, I do remember building a 'den' with a 5 foot wall of loose bricks my dad wasn't too impressed with my engineering skills or when I dug a tunnel under one of the garden concrete paths. Messing about in woods playing with penknives, fireworks all part of growing up in the 60's.
It seems that it's true that little boys have a fascination with fire. I don't get it at all. We never played with fire, or fiireworks, explosives or accelerants, and I'm not sure I understand the fascination.
Actually, come to think of it, I did light a small fire in a metal waste paper bin in my bedroom once. My mum got some serious burns when she came in and picked the bin up to stop it burning the carpet.
Actually, come to think of it, I did light a small fire in a metal waste paper bin in my bedroom once. My mum got some serious burns when she came in and picked the bin up to stop it burning the carpet.
So many escapades when i was young, usually with my neighbor partner in crime.
He got a Saturday job in a local supermarket that spawned a few stupid things, On one day he came home with some out of date whole chickens. These where rapidly attached to the front of a row of cars around the corner.
Another time he brought home an enormous tub (vat nearly) of organic yogurt, clearly the only logical thing to do with this was to use the fire escape to get onto the roof of the local bingo hall. After several rounds of "no you do it" the tubs contents where deposited over the ledge towards a car that had just pulled up, unfortunately it didn't really pour. It came out in just a giant blob and the noise it made when it hit the windscreen and bonnet i'm surprised it didnt break something.
There was then the clear realization that there was only one obvious place that this could have come from and we needed to escape, we must have been doing 4 or 5 stairs at once down the fire escape, about halfway down we where nearly intercepted by someone bursting out of a side door before we escaped into the evening. i am pretty sure not many 100m sprinters could have done much better!
He was also caught mid snack when manning one of the counters, in panic he put the scotch egg back he had just taken a big bite out of. It doesn't take a genius to guess which one the customer asked for.
He got a Saturday job in a local supermarket that spawned a few stupid things, On one day he came home with some out of date whole chickens. These where rapidly attached to the front of a row of cars around the corner.
Another time he brought home an enormous tub (vat nearly) of organic yogurt, clearly the only logical thing to do with this was to use the fire escape to get onto the roof of the local bingo hall. After several rounds of "no you do it" the tubs contents where deposited over the ledge towards a car that had just pulled up, unfortunately it didn't really pour. It came out in just a giant blob and the noise it made when it hit the windscreen and bonnet i'm surprised it didnt break something.
There was then the clear realization that there was only one obvious place that this could have come from and we needed to escape, we must have been doing 4 or 5 stairs at once down the fire escape, about halfway down we where nearly intercepted by someone bursting out of a side door before we escaped into the evening. i am pretty sure not many 100m sprinters could have done much better!
He was also caught mid snack when manning one of the counters, in panic he put the scotch egg back he had just taken a big bite out of. It doesn't take a genius to guess which one the customer asked for.
Back in my early teens my mates and I managed to get hold of some 12 bore shotgun cartridges, and then a short length of steel pipe that was just big enough to accommodate said cartridges.
We secured the pipe to a small block of wood with some 6 inch nails hammered down the sides and bent over the pipe, then took turns using a hammer and nail to fire it.
Occasionally the whole thing would spin around as the hammer and nail impacted, firing in wildly different directions than intended.
Somehow we all reached adulthood.
We secured the pipe to a small block of wood with some 6 inch nails hammered down the sides and bent over the pipe, then took turns using a hammer and nail to fire it.
Occasionally the whole thing would spin around as the hammer and nail impacted, firing in wildly different directions than intended.
Somehow we all reached adulthood.
I was the first of my mates to pass my driving test and have my own car, so of course some car-based stuff would happen
I was a kind of "ski lift" for my mates who wanted to skateboard/skate down a big hill nearby, so after they skated down, I'd tow them back up the rope I had in the car or with them holding on to the windows etc
One time my mate wanted to see how good the wheels and bearings were on his skates and how fast could he go, so he had the tow rope in his hands like a waterskier and I drove him down the road up to about 50mph before he let go and fell into a ditch - unharmed but the brake on his skates was almost completely worn through
Also the conga line of skaters/boarders being towed down the high street one evening, but one of my mates was in a shopping trolley we had found. However, being good boys, we took the trolley back to Sainsburys for them...
I was a kind of "ski lift" for my mates who wanted to skateboard/skate down a big hill nearby, so after they skated down, I'd tow them back up the rope I had in the car or with them holding on to the windows etc
One time my mate wanted to see how good the wheels and bearings were on his skates and how fast could he go, so he had the tow rope in his hands like a waterskier and I drove him down the road up to about 50mph before he let go and fell into a ditch - unharmed but the brake on his skates was almost completely worn through
Also the conga line of skaters/boarders being towed down the high street one evening, but one of my mates was in a shopping trolley we had found. However, being good boys, we took the trolley back to Sainsburys for them...
My brother and I (and the idiots we hung out) have a few.
Must have been 12 or 13 when we all decided we were going to go to our nearest BMX track and spend the summer learning how to backflip.
We called it off after 6 days, a rolled ankle, a sprained wrist and a broken collarbone.
Around the same time, we found a guy on holiday who had flint on the end of his skateboard to make sparks. 1 aerosol can later we managed to turn the sparks into an impressive flame, which consumed the tail of the skateboard.
Snuck off into town to buy pellet guns to fire at cats that came into our back garden.
Must have been 12 or 13 when we all decided we were going to go to our nearest BMX track and spend the summer learning how to backflip.
We called it off after 6 days, a rolled ankle, a sprained wrist and a broken collarbone.
Around the same time, we found a guy on holiday who had flint on the end of his skateboard to make sparks. 1 aerosol can later we managed to turn the sparks into an impressive flame, which consumed the tail of the skateboard.
Snuck off into town to buy pellet guns to fire at cats that came into our back garden.
Some fantastic stories here, great read
Not unlike most young boys my friends and I were also fascinated with fire. We used to play "hot potato" - where you lit a tennis ball on fire, and then threw it around to each other until it either burnt out or got too hot to handle. I think we only charred two t-shirts then.
Similarly, we used to raid our dads' sheds for whatever had the most "flammable" warning labels on it, and then take it to the local woods where we would build a campfire. One evening, a friend's older brother had left a full jerry can of petrol by the door for his scooter. We sprayed a little bit out onto the ground, found some twigs, and marvelled at how well the petrol lit. We got bolder and bolder, adding more fuel, until one of us decided to add some fuel while the fire was already raging. As soon as the petrol left the jerry can it ignited, sending a trail of fire up the stream of fuel, into the jerry can, which promptly exploded, covering my friend in burning fuel. Amazingly after the stop-drop-roll, he emerged with some burned clothes but only some minor burns to one of his legs. We decided to stop playing with fire after that.
Hedges were also an unusual source of amusement for us teenagers. We used to practice hedge-jumping, which simply involved finding the prickliest, most unkempt bush, and jumping into it. As it turns out, that phrase has followed some of us into our adult lives. Again, our hedge jumping escapedes grew bolder and bolder, until one afternoon we stumbled across a discarded kiddy's tricycle atop a small hill, with a large bush at the bottom. Considering this a sign from the gods, a friend of mine jumped onto the tricycle, started to pedal down the hill, quickly realised that he was going way too fast on something that had no brakes, and braced for impact with the bush. Unfortunately, the bush was hiding some rather solid steel fencing, and whilst we thought it was hilarious that our friend had completed the kamikaze bush run, our amusement soon faded when we noticed he wasn't moving. He'd knocked himself out and had a pretty nasty gash on his head. We walked him back home to face the inevitable b
king from our parents.
The worst part of that was how there had been a pretty nasty fight in a local park at the same sort of time, and as we were walking back home a police car drove past, clocked this teenager with blood all over his clothes walking with a group of 5-6 layabouts, pretty much did a handbrake turn and sped over to stop us. After a bit of explaining, convincing, and showing the policeman the grainy footage from my Sony Ericsson T630, he was satisfied that we were just kids being idiots and offered some of his first aid kit.
When we had discovered the joys of conference calling, I remember prank calling various businesses saying we were sick of their car park/noise/staff etc, before calling another business and saying something similar and joining the two calls together, before hitting speaker so we could both hear it and muting our phone. We found it childishly amusing as the conversations would normally start with a tirade of insults from both parties (of which some would be re-used in the school playground the next day), before turning to utter confusion as both parties had no idea who the other was or what the complaint was about.
This all worked very well for about three days until I made such a call on a phone which didn't have a speaker, so I gestured for my friend to pick up another phone - which he did, and uttered the immortal, "Hello." in the handset. The line suddenly went very silent.
I can only assume one/both companies had 1471'd the line in the evening as our parents forbade us from going out for weeks afterwards - although, a few years later when (slightly) more mature, my dad admitted that he had seen the funny side of it and as such hadn't resorted to giving me a stiff smack. An apology to the companies we'd called was accepted (one of the managers didn't really care, the other one shrugged it off and said "boys will be boys").
Not unlike most young boys my friends and I were also fascinated with fire. We used to play "hot potato" - where you lit a tennis ball on fire, and then threw it around to each other until it either burnt out or got too hot to handle. I think we only charred two t-shirts then.
Similarly, we used to raid our dads' sheds for whatever had the most "flammable" warning labels on it, and then take it to the local woods where we would build a campfire. One evening, a friend's older brother had left a full jerry can of petrol by the door for his scooter. We sprayed a little bit out onto the ground, found some twigs, and marvelled at how well the petrol lit. We got bolder and bolder, adding more fuel, until one of us decided to add some fuel while the fire was already raging. As soon as the petrol left the jerry can it ignited, sending a trail of fire up the stream of fuel, into the jerry can, which promptly exploded, covering my friend in burning fuel. Amazingly after the stop-drop-roll, he emerged with some burned clothes but only some minor burns to one of his legs. We decided to stop playing with fire after that.
Hedges were also an unusual source of amusement for us teenagers. We used to practice hedge-jumping, which simply involved finding the prickliest, most unkempt bush, and jumping into it. As it turns out, that phrase has followed some of us into our adult lives. Again, our hedge jumping escapedes grew bolder and bolder, until one afternoon we stumbled across a discarded kiddy's tricycle atop a small hill, with a large bush at the bottom. Considering this a sign from the gods, a friend of mine jumped onto the tricycle, started to pedal down the hill, quickly realised that he was going way too fast on something that had no brakes, and braced for impact with the bush. Unfortunately, the bush was hiding some rather solid steel fencing, and whilst we thought it was hilarious that our friend had completed the kamikaze bush run, our amusement soon faded when we noticed he wasn't moving. He'd knocked himself out and had a pretty nasty gash on his head. We walked him back home to face the inevitable b
king from our parents.The worst part of that was how there had been a pretty nasty fight in a local park at the same sort of time, and as we were walking back home a police car drove past, clocked this teenager with blood all over his clothes walking with a group of 5-6 layabouts, pretty much did a handbrake turn and sped over to stop us. After a bit of explaining, convincing, and showing the policeman the grainy footage from my Sony Ericsson T630, he was satisfied that we were just kids being idiots and offered some of his first aid kit.
When we had discovered the joys of conference calling, I remember prank calling various businesses saying we were sick of their car park/noise/staff etc, before calling another business and saying something similar and joining the two calls together, before hitting speaker so we could both hear it and muting our phone. We found it childishly amusing as the conversations would normally start with a tirade of insults from both parties (of which some would be re-used in the school playground the next day), before turning to utter confusion as both parties had no idea who the other was or what the complaint was about.
This all worked very well for about three days until I made such a call on a phone which didn't have a speaker, so I gestured for my friend to pick up another phone - which he did, and uttered the immortal, "Hello." in the handset. The line suddenly went very silent.
I can only assume one/both companies had 1471'd the line in the evening as our parents forbade us from going out for weeks afterwards - although, a few years later when (slightly) more mature, my dad admitted that he had seen the funny side of it and as such hadn't resorted to giving me a stiff smack. An apology to the companies we'd called was accepted (one of the managers didn't really care, the other one shrugged it off and said "boys will be boys").
Edited by Second Best on Friday 20th July 16:25
My best mate at school had a very unhealthy love of fire and explosives, and never did anything by halves, as well as parents who would rarely punish him more than a "don't do it again".
Despite the best of intentions (we didn't really do anything illegal or particularly annoying to the neighbours) we were certainly careless.
Firework displays - did massive displays but it seemed like every other rocket or Roman candle fell over and shot off in random directions! Thought it would be a good idea to do a "proper" display with some extra fuse so one light would set the fireworks off in order. It was a good idea in theory but when they were not put in the ground very securely it got scary pretty quickly and there was no way to stop them
Borrowing his grandfather's inflatable kayak and outboard motor which he helped us make a mount for - wasn't too dangerous except for when we went (almost) out of sight of land on one of our fishing trips and the bloody thing started leaking, although being inflatable it probably wouldn't have actually sunk. Didn't stop us trying again though!
Thrashing an old car round his grandfather's field aged about 14 or so - having a go at being rally drivers. We never actually hit the trees but had some close calls
Despite the best of intentions (we didn't really do anything illegal or particularly annoying to the neighbours) we were certainly careless.
Firework displays - did massive displays but it seemed like every other rocket or Roman candle fell over and shot off in random directions! Thought it would be a good idea to do a "proper" display with some extra fuse so one light would set the fireworks off in order. It was a good idea in theory but when they were not put in the ground very securely it got scary pretty quickly and there was no way to stop them
Borrowing his grandfather's inflatable kayak and outboard motor which he helped us make a mount for - wasn't too dangerous except for when we went (almost) out of sight of land on one of our fishing trips and the bloody thing started leaking, although being inflatable it probably wouldn't have actually sunk. Didn't stop us trying again though!
Thrashing an old car round his grandfather's field aged about 14 or so - having a go at being rally drivers. We never actually hit the trees but had some close calls
With parents as strict and scary as mine, I didn't do anything as a kid at all.
(Example: once me and my sister were on our bikes in the cul-de-sac outside our house along with the neighbour's kids. My sister fell off her bike while we were riding quite close to each other and banged her head, and my dad automatically assumed I'd knocked her off, so he walked over and without waiting for any form of explanation and in full view of the neighbours, punched me full in the face.)
(Example: once me and my sister were on our bikes in the cul-de-sac outside our house along with the neighbour's kids. My sister fell off her bike while we were riding quite close to each other and banged her head, and my dad automatically assumed I'd knocked her off, so he walked over and without waiting for any form of explanation and in full view of the neighbours, punched me full in the face.)
We "found" a box of detonators (torpedos in the US), the things put on rail tracks to warn the driver of danger. We tried all sorts to get them to go off, even putting one on a bonfire had no effect. Nothing worked to the point we decided they were probably not detonators. In desperation one of the gang got his dad's biggest hammer and gave one an almighty pisser, it went off, fk me was it loud! loud enough to deafen us for the rest of the day.
With that success we decide we would kill one of the local farmers psycho cows, (damn things would chase us across the field, may have been, but not necessarily, our fault for teasing them. In our extremely juvenile minds revenge was fully justified). We put a detonator in a feeding trough, the plan being that animal would tuck in, not notice the det, bite in to it and blow its head off. What we considered to be a stupid animal clearly wasn't as stupid as us, most of the feed was gone and it looked like the det had been licked clean!
The farmer found it and called the police, apparently a number of "explosions" had been heard in the area, seemingly everyone had heard many of these "explosions", even us in an attempt to remain innocent , plod concluded in was school boys mucking about. Our stash was quickly disposed of in the local canal.
Two weeks later the canal sprung a leak (nothing to do with us this time), we expected to see "our" detonators again, no sign of them, probably for the best.
k me was it loud! loud enough to deafen us for the rest of the day.With that success we decide we would kill one of the local farmers psycho cows, (damn things would chase us across the field, may have been, but not necessarily, our fault for teasing them. In our extremely juvenile minds revenge was fully justified). We put a detonator in a feeding trough, the plan being that animal would tuck in, not notice the det, bite in to it and blow its head off. What we considered to be a stupid animal clearly wasn't as stupid as us, most of the feed was gone and it looked like the det had been licked clean!
The farmer found it and called the police, apparently a number of "explosions" had been heard in the area, seemingly everyone had heard many of these "explosions", even us in an attempt to remain innocent , plod concluded in was school boys mucking about. Our stash was quickly disposed of in the local canal.
Two weeks later the canal sprung a leak (nothing to do with us this time), we expected to see "our" detonators again, no sign of them, probably for the best.
DaveGoddard said:
With parents as strict and scary as mine, I didn't do anything as a kid at all.
(Example: once me and my sister were on our bikes in the cul-de-sac outside our house along with the neighbour's kids. My sister fell off her bike while we were riding quite close to each other and banged her head, and my dad automatically assumed I'd knocked her off, so he walked over and without waiting for any form of explanation and in full view of the neighbours, punched me full in the face.)
Sounds like your dad is/was a bit of a dick tbh(Example: once me and my sister were on our bikes in the cul-de-sac outside our house along with the neighbour's kids. My sister fell off her bike while we were riding quite close to each other and banged her head, and my dad automatically assumed I'd knocked her off, so he walked over and without waiting for any form of explanation and in full view of the neighbours, punched me full in the face.)
AC43 said:
Meh.
Teenage rocket fight. It's a bit like a duel without the walking and turning round bit. You stand facing your opponent and on a signal you both light the blue touchpaper. You then hold your rocket by the stick until it's ready to go.
The main elements of skill (obvs) is being able to judge exactly when to let go.
But being able to launch your rocket so that it bounces off the ground just before it gets to you opponent creates huge confusion and maximises the chance of a strike.
Me and my mates did this when we were sober teenagers growing up in Scotland
I revisited the launch technique a few years later at a party in Fulham. This time the rockets were pointing up. But I was fairly pissed. The reactions weren't quite so good and I woke up the day with a stinging and bald right arm.
I did that with my friends. We had bits of drainpipe that we used to launch the rockets at each other. After we'd all finished and were on our bikes going home, plod drove past in his van. He pulled us over and said he'd had reports of kids firing rockets at houses (it wasnt us, honest). We both got a clip round the ear, bikes in the back of the van and taken home to explain ourselves to our parents. Happy memories.Teenage rocket fight. It's a bit like a duel without the walking and turning round bit. You stand facing your opponent and on a signal you both light the blue touchpaper. You then hold your rocket by the stick until it's ready to go.
The main elements of skill (obvs) is being able to judge exactly when to let go.
But being able to launch your rocket so that it bounces off the ground just before it gets to you opponent creates huge confusion and maximises the chance of a strike.
Me and my mates did this when we were sober teenagers growing up in Scotland
I revisited the launch technique a few years later at a party in Fulham. This time the rockets were pointing up. But I was fairly pissed. The reactions weren't quite so good and I woke up the day with a stinging and bald right arm.
I was at a mates house one day, his parents were out at work, and we decided to get his mum's scooter out and ride it around the bike garden. As you'd expect speeds increased the longer it went on until we realised how much damage we'd done to the back lawn sliding around.
We spent the next hour ripping up handfuls of undamaged grass trying to fill in all the skid tracks without realising that either the next time his dad mowed the lawn or there were just a few gusts of wind our exploits would be exposed.
Anyway I got home to find out that my mum and sister had been watching us both for the whole time from our landing window. It's the only time I remember my mum trying to tell me off whilst laughing, and my dad failed completely when he heard the story later.
We spent the next hour ripping up handfuls of undamaged grass trying to fill in all the skid tracks without realising that either the next time his dad mowed the lawn or there were just a few gusts of wind our exploits would be exposed.
Anyway I got home to find out that my mum and sister had been watching us both for the whole time from our landing window. It's the only time I remember my mum trying to tell me off whilst laughing, and my dad failed completely when he heard the story later.
Hmm, hard to know when to start....
Four brothers and I spending a lot of our time in the Norfolk countryside;
Bolt bombs
Burrowing in hay stacks
Grain-sliding
Taking the skin off my arse and palms of hands trying to learn to wheelie on my brothers CB200 on the concrete farm drive
Etc, etc
Probably the biggest was, as a 4 year-old, filling the petrol tank of my father's DB4 with sand from my sand pit and only stopping when the petrol displaced started coming out of the filler neck
Four brothers and I spending a lot of our time in the Norfolk countryside;
Bolt bombs
Burrowing in hay stacks
Grain-sliding
Taking the skin off my arse and palms of hands trying to learn to wheelie on my brothers CB200 on the concrete farm drive
Etc, etc
Probably the biggest was, as a 4 year-old, filling the petrol tank of my father's DB4 with sand from my sand pit and only stopping when the petrol displaced started coming out of the filler neck
I'm a bit young for gun access, growing up post dunblane meant most guns were locked away or destroyed. We did have ready access to black widow catapults though, that were probably far more powerful than BB guns/ air guns. I remember one of my neighbours had his drive gravelled with nicely rounded pebbles about an inch long. Perfect ammo size. the drive was stripped in about 2 weeks!
Fire wise, we were horrible little arsonists! Straw bales on fire and rolled into the canal, "crop circles" made with petrol. Best time of year was burning the stubble where farmers would issue small boys with a lighter and some fuel and we'd go and set fire to the fields. Bigger kids (like 14) would "police" this by driving/ racing tractors, motorbikes or small cars on the fields to ensure fires were limited to fields only.
One of my mates had fallen out with the dad of a lad from his football team, so most weekends we'd go out at 1am and cover his car in eggs, flower, rancid milk, fairy liquid, anything we could rob from the local pub kitchen that left there back door open all night!
Fire wise, we were horrible little arsonists! Straw bales on fire and rolled into the canal, "crop circles" made with petrol. Best time of year was burning the stubble where farmers would issue small boys with a lighter and some fuel and we'd go and set fire to the fields. Bigger kids (like 14) would "police" this by driving/ racing tractors, motorbikes or small cars on the fields to ensure fires were limited to fields only.
One of my mates had fallen out with the dad of a lad from his football team, so most weekends we'd go out at 1am and cover his car in eggs, flower, rancid milk, fairy liquid, anything we could rob from the local pub kitchen that left there back door open all night!
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