Financial Security for chavs

[Mich the Tester]

"Gown. Gizfag."

Whereupon you could stop and offer a gratuity of the nicotinorous variety and be repayed by being left alone, or - if they were feeling especially generous - the tiniest flick back of the head as a feral mark of utmost respect for your kindness to your earth-sister.

Should you be unable or - heavens forfend! - unwilling to provide said tobacco-based relief, you would receive the cheerful London parting of "fackincant". Or, if besuited in best attire, "tight flash fackincant" and - surely with a sly nod to the off-world respect as shown in Frank Herbert's Dune - spat upon.


Such happy days. How I miss delightful London and her simple, sweet pleasures.

You mean you didn't even get a BJ in return?

Ungrateful little slags.

[RichardCranium]

You mean you didn't even get a BJ in return?

Despite them seemingly being of the same species as myself, it never dawned on me to associate these vermin with the act of love-making.

Until you raised your query, it had never as much as crossed my mind that these creatures had actually been mated with. What a hideous prospect.

I think I had assumed they reproduced asexually, like aphids, and just automatically sprouted another pot belly every few months. Or maybe a bit like bees, perhaps: mated with just the once in their spotty and barely mature youth - say at 11 or 12 - and the permanently producing fertilised offspring just keep on coming.

So are they more like anglerfish, where there is a tiny male attached by suckers somewhere near a suitable orifice that serves no purpose other than to provide semen as a means to reproduction, babies and, thereby, Child Benefit, and security and comfort?

[thunderlizard]

i think she is an astronomer. thats the hubble telescope there, or jodrell bank or something. plus she has the constellation Capricorn tatted on her belly

Compelling evidence. Based on my extensive experience of A&E's throughout our nation's capital, however, I *think* that's UCL Hospital.

[EternalOptimist]

Compelling evidence. Based on my extensive experience of A&E's throughout our nation's capital, however, I *think* that's UCL Hospital.

I still think RC is wrong, and that she has a degree in Astrophysics

[OwlHoot]

Aah, that takes me back.

Back to the happy days when I was working in White City and sometimes had to wander between offices there and Shepherd's Bush Green.

One would be cheerfully ambling along, minding one's own business, when one would be accosted by one or two such fair young maidens. ..

Something similar happened to me when I was contracting at the Beeb in White City a couple of years ago, except the lady in question was the opposite - Well spoken, immaculately dressed, sunglasses perched on top of her head, clutching a bulging filofax. She looked the very picture of a high-flying "happening" busy executive.

She collared me as I walked past a multi storey car park, where it appeared her expensive BMW (which she pointed out) was marooned, as someone had stolen her credit cards and she was therefore unable to pay the parking charge. Apparently she had an urgent meeting in Mayfair for a new production, and if I could lend her £20, she would repay me the next day _and_ give me a front row ticket for a BBC live program. (This was right next to Broadcasting House,)

It all looked and sounded fairly convincing (except possibly the filofax, which are pretty archaic things to be using these days). But as it happened I had no money on me and was unable to help. The next day, when I related the incident to a colleague, he said this lady was a well-known con artist and regularly pulled similar stunts, both there and all over London!

[Jog On]

Aah, that takes me back.

Back to the happy days when I was working in White City and sometimes had to wander between offices there and Shepherd's Bush Green.

I used to live there and can vouch for this story. The drunks on the benches and wierdos just walking around were too much to deal with. And this an expensive area to live in because it's "cool" and next to Notting Hill

I so do not miss Shepherd's Bush Green. They say that in London you're never x (can't remember what - sorry!) distance away from a rat (I'd like to test that theory from where I am currently on the 14th floor of a skyscraper in Canary Wharf ) but when you go to that patch of 'green' you can see them bold as brass, and I'm not talking about the chavs/drunks/wierdos I mean big, f' off mutated rodents.

We drive through there sometimes on the way into town/A40 sometimes and every time we are reminded that moving away from that place is one of the best life decisions we ever made

[MaryPoppins]

Isn't that MP before she had the baby?

Still got those tracksuit bottoms too.

[The_Equalizer]

In Belfast over Christmas a similar young lady - ready to pop and well into a good night out - was heard saying:

"Vodka for me, orange for the baby."

[TykeMerc]

I wouldn't. Any takers?

You wouldn't now, but did you previously hence the shape?

In answer to the question you posed... Not even with yours.

[mudskipper]

Aah, that takes me back.

Back to the happy days when I was working in White City and sometimes had to wander between offices there and Shepherd's Bush Green.

One would be cheerfully ambling along, minding one's own business, when one would be accosted by one or two such fair young maidens. Each armed with a push chair containing at least two green-nosed darlings, plus one or more in tow (literally, by a nylon strap) and a peek-a-boo dumpling tummy peeking out for all the world to see, full of promise of another bounty of joy to be born in the coming months.

One would be pulled from one's reverie by a tug on the jacket - or shirt sleeve if a warmer season - and a dulcit "Gizfag". It was always said with affection: you could tell by the sneer they portrayed as they snarled this word out of the corner of their mouth - for the other corner would already be filled with a lit cigarette anyway.

"Gown. Gizfag."

Whereupon you could stop and offer a gratuity of the nicotinorous variety and be repayed by being left alone, or - if they were feeling especially generous - the tiniest flick back of the head as a feral mark of utmost respect for your kindness to your earth-sister.

Should you be unable or - heavens forfend! - unwilling to provide said tobacco-based relief, you would receive the cheerful London parting of "fackincant". Or, if besuited in best attire, "tight flash fackincant" and - surely with a sly nod to the off-world respect as shown in Frank Herbert's Dune - spat upon.


Such happy days. How I miss delightful London and her simple, sweet pleasures.

One fer Ron?