I'd like to join in, but I have no idea what this thread is about? 57 old farts? I do remember catseyes and coshers though. I can't remember what the marbles with two colours were called.
Yes but still a teenager in the head. Give me megadeath and a couple of DTs Russian hookers over downton abbey and a cup of tea!
Is that perhaps like Heinz 57 varieties? I recall many keen contests with marbles and conkers - with all kinds of tricks to harden them, soaking in vinegar, heat treatment in the oven, finally skewering to thread the boot strap - a "green" conker sure smashed easily, so size wasn't everything, it was all in the preparation.
Oui .................At 52, I'm still young enough to know I still have every single brain cell I was born with. Whether I choose to use them to their full extent ........ or not at all, is my privilege. We baby boomer's also have the rightful excuse to say that if we happen to stuff up on a regular occasion, it is our god given right for which those of you who are still wearing nappies have no comeback whatsoever. The Baby Boomers Code of Practice As I grow older, having moved back in with either daughter or son, I solemnly swear to frequently offer flatulence to those around me whether they request it or not. Shat myself at every convenience as a matter of pleasure, as a pay back for a previous event with the said offspring. Continuously dribble whilst being spoon fed, combined with drinking every available drop of alcohol my son-in-laws have stashed away. May god strike me down if I do not pay back in full, all the crap they have thrown at my good wife & I, for the past 28 years. Spend or give away every last cent that we have saved throughout our lifetime
We always tried to use the 'cheesecutters', where two conkers came out of one fruit and so were flat on one side...
**** most of you make me feel young no longer an old geezer at 43 for 11 more days anyway you might have to grow old don't mean you have to grow up
This: I will be 66 on New Years Eve and along with my Brother in Law (66) was told only yesterday to 'grow up' after an unfortunate incident with a slice of carrot cake. We strictly adhere to the baby boomers motto 'grow old disgracefully' although sometimes it is more like 'Last of the Summer Wine'.
I'm 54. I have a mental age of 12, according to my wife! I always tell her that the day she stops asking me when I'm going to grow up then I'll start worrying!
Good for you, mate. Now that you have reach the onset of puberty, you'll notice a change in the tone of your voice but as long as you can still say, C'mon you R'rsss ........... you'll do fine. You may also note a bit of foliage on the shower floor but that's ok, just stay away from the 'soap on a rope' and there won't be any injuries. Apart from that, being 12 for the rest of your life isn't such a bad thing. At least you won't be expected to be responsible ........... You'll make the perfect Queens Park Rangers fan, enjoy!
Snap! (If kicking about on the Madejski indoor astroturf with workmates on Friday lunchtimes counts.) I was never much good, and haven't played competitively for about 30 years (we were based at Walthamstowe). My last proper game on a real outdoor pitch was about 20 years ago.
