The Nearly Nuts

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Juan_Ramirez_III, Oct 20, 2010.

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  1. A thread has triggered distant memories of Alan, a gruesome looking club swinger who was, to a fresh faced youngster, a scary cunt through and through.

    After once teaching me rather aggressively and loudly how to properly stow the crashmatts after a session another lad whispered conspiritorially not to fuck with Alan as he was the scourge of all who crossed him, or words to that effect! So, well heeded I avoided him, and a few others accordingly which to be fair is a tactic i'd advise any nod/joe to adopt now, if your 17 and shiny new, assume everyones a cunt until told otherwise :)

    Anyway, being the flashing beacon of social dexterity that I was, I soon became a major weekend player in that windswept shithole and invariably came across Alan from time to time. Funny though, as for all the stories that were whispered by candle light about how he had once 'battered the complete police det at Whale Island then swam to freedom' or when he once 'went into a pub in Aldershot in a 'God is Airborne....he failed the Commando Course' T shirt before wiping the bottoms of half of 2 Para', Alan was suprisingly good at finding other things to do when it kicked off....

    I found myself utterley bemused at his increasing ability to disappear in a puff of smoke when anything that resembled a row started looming. After remembering him fondly telling me in the confines of my pit 'see meeeee pal? I ken every cunt in toon like, nay cunt fucks wi'me ken? ma braaer runs half thi fucking doors in Scotland ken? I was confused as to why he felt the need to squeeze himself out of the heads window in a grotty club after half the door staff took their ties and jackets off and formed ranks to deal with a bootneck from the Home Counties who had decided to sling a pint of piss over the DJ for refusing to play 'no no, no no no no, no no no no, no no theres no limits' by 2Unlimited for the fourth time.

    It all ended shamefully for Alan, we had a company smash up/families day once and after being a knob for most of the day he was battered soundly into the next decade in the back of a moving minibus by the civvy relative of one of the lads, poor cunt looked like a stuffsac the next morning.

    I asked Lou of http://www.arrse.co.uk/now-thats-what-i-call-naafi-bar/122234-lou-taste-vim.html fame what he thought of it all and he snorted a massive greeny at me and told me to fuck off through low pitched laughing which to be fair said it all.

    Once also met an RGJ lad on a civvy dominated night out in London, we were inexorably thrown together with a tenous social link and true to form I was stuck with the 4 time, unbeaten Regimental and Army boxing champion, he extolled on me the benefits of going 'off the beaten track' and fighting for cash at campsites and scrapyards to improve my own personal ability to box (albeit it not too well :)) Suitably enamoured I resorted to drinking furious looking cocktails to drown the massive hardnut out but was roused from my torment to see him being punched to the moon and back by a normal looking lad who it transpired had had the gall to bump into the jacket, after some one way discussion I think the poor lad decided to drop the cockney cunt and put half of Central London out of their misery.

    Aaaand, once worked a door in Bournemouth with a lad who had apparently 'Bg'd' (his words) most of the big stars of the 80's but who was sent pirouetting down the dance floor steps with his nose hanging off by a gay lad he had bollocked for nicking drinks :) :)

    Got any 'Nearly Hard Nuts'?
     
  2. Matt Ludlow. A wannabe hardman who would dish out the thousand yard stare at anyone at the slightest sniff of ale.
    He was a mate of a mate who tagged along whenever we hit town and would start a fight in a shoebox then promptly vanish. One night he caused a scrap with a group of lads in fancy dress. After the first seven seconds it turned into a bit of pushing and shoving over the prone body of Batman. It all sorted its self out but we seemed to have lost our resident 'berserker'. My kid brother had come out with us and was miffed at his new shirt having a neck three sizes bigger than when he came out.

    Needless to say the next time 'Bendigo' showed up on a night out our kid took him outside on the premise of giving him some speed and promptly flattened his nose, emptied his wallet and got me to help chuck him in the big green bins.

    He stopped showing up after that but now and again tries to contact the lads on faceparty.

    The dick.
     
  3. Oh yes - M**k I****m who lives in the village - size of a barn to be fair, but that's mostly lard, has some sort of wierd part shaved, part long biker hairdo. Comes all the big hard man when women and kids get in his way, or make a noise or whatever.

    Daren't show his face in the local because the farmers round here have taken umbrage at this behaviour and the word is out that its a matter of time before he and his teeth part company.

    Nasty cunt sits at home drinking cider and swearing at his dogs and children.

    He should have stayed in the city where his behaviour could go un-noticed, but no, he moved out to a small village and expected to be able to chuck his considerable weight around. I can't wait for Nick the tractor driver to bump into him one night.
     
  4. It's a confusing character trait, a local gym round here is run by a complete meat, 18 stone of concrete who has roped a few heavy bags up, slung in some Argos gym equipment and has made a fortune giving his fellow dead heads a place to trade roids and hog the full length mirrors. Life got decidedly less rosy for him last month when a couple of 20 year old tykes taxed him of his till takings, the keys to his X5 and his dignity as he ran off to bolt himself in the changing rooms whilst they started having a go at the vending machines. He is a nice lad to be fair and paid me handsomely for banging up a load of curtain walling on the mill but its not worth knowing who he hasnt 'fookin smashed in' ..
     
  5. fucking squirels have been burying walnuts all over my fucking garden
    keep finding the squishy bastards whenever i wander throught to the shed
    fucking tree rat cunts

    oh, i see
    well me i guess a little bit

    i once intervened between two youths having a bit of verbal in the merrion centre in leeds, up by morrisons
    one had done the others ex girlfriend and was vexed somewhat

    so me in finest UNPROFOR mode, sidle up and poured oil on their troubled waters
    next thing it kicks off with them windmilling like mllars and me between them avoiding blows and trying to pull them apart
    my mates tried to grab me out of there, but we all fell to the ground in a fucking heap

    one of my mates - JP you big nosed cunt - got a few good smacks to his head
    which served the fucker right for shagging my ex bird a few weeks before as well
    last i remember was running off giggling whilst security over the tannoy were telling us to scram

    another time i was walking back from the pub with a mate and a brick i'd swiped from a building site
    passing the end of our street some urchins were hanging outside a house;
    where inside a party to celebrat esome cunt getting out of armley nick, was going on and started giving us greif
    so my mucker proceeded to tell the ringleader; a particularly vile pre teen girl of about twelve, to suck his cock

    at this point her father dived out of the party screaming 'what did you say to my daughter, you cunt?'
    i monged out with the brick in my hand screaming back 'coomon then you fuckier, i'll have you and yer fucking kids'
    at which point he was dragged off by his daughter and missus back in the house,
    them telling him to calm down as he'd only just got out
    whilst i hopped around like a chimp on loopy juice
    how i loved leeds...
     
  6. Its a trait which seems to affect the doorman trade the most

    Yates's in Leeds when it was across the road was the scene of some fine footwork by 1 of the staff members who made it through the ensuing fracas unscathed ;bearing in mind it was single entry point down 2 flights and that cunt made it past about a dozen footy mongs.
    It left 1 door bod and us idiots to heroically ...........get a silver medal on that occasion .

    D*** C***** you are a twats twat :)
     
  7. When on leave back in the day I used to knock about with some old civvie mates, one of which had a cousin from the 'old country' who was basically sponging off the aunt and uncle. He was full of how many blokes he'd banged out etc and talked the talk. One weekend we got an invite to a football clubs end of season awards do / pissup being held in the upper floor of a pub/club in Leytonstone....usual thing loads of blokes, good smattering of family etc. We tips up late after a few scoops and know from the off that somethings up. Didn't help that the DJ's kit was US either.

    Turns out a group of mates of mates had invited themselves and within ten minutes it was like a western bar fight, bodies everywhere. One of my mates gets glassed in the fizzer so we fighting our way out of the place not know friend from foe just lamping any cnut in the way. Gets into the street and forms a semi circle round the door and batter anyone that leaves......one poor lad actaully did the running out kung fu stylee and adopted the position.......he was flatened with a chair leg.

    Anyway, the old bill are looming so we bug out.....on doing the head count we can't find Kev the hard man...its ok, he must have got away. So endex

    Next morning, debrief round my mates (now sporting several stitched cuts on his fizz) in bimbles Kev....."where the feck were you last night soldier boy"........he's cousin, my brother and another bloke nearly flattened him on the spot before I had a chance to answer the cnut. We found out a few days later that he was seen hiding with some mums on a fire escape at the back of the building....the cnut.
     
  8. Quality!!!! :)

    I once watched a notable company hardcase slide across the bonnet of a taxi like a Duke of Hazard near the Cider Press in Plymouth and scream 'gogogogogetthefuckoutofhere' to the bemused driver as 3 of us mixed it like mad with a load of 29 lads, it was like watching 'Little Orphan Annie' as his fat frightened face pressed itself up against the glass as the cab disappeared into the distance and I dropped under the combined weight of 2 ale crazed gun bunnies.

    What a bummer, pulled a blinder though on Herrick, a blinder of almost VC like worthiness so he is forgiven :)
     
  9. I did an SIA course when I was unemployed a couple of years back. The course was made up of folk doing it to get a job as static security, doormen renewing their badges and a pack of scrotes there to keep their new deal money going. The second day we were there one of the doormen was banging on about all the mental battles he'd fought and various local faces he'd battered. He was a big lad, ex rifles and to be fair a good laugh. I took his stories with a pinch of salt.
    Dinner time comes and we're outside having a tab when one of the scrotes honks up a builders omelette on the floor in front of us. "dont do that please mate, its chatty as fuck" I said and the chav moved off to talk like an L.a. gang member to his mates. As we're on our way back in johnny ten men whispers into my ear to be careful as the lad looks a bit of a nutter. I nearly shat laughing, he was seven stone wet through and looked about as tasty as a shit pasty. Ignored my muscle bound new chum for the rest of the course. Bless him.
     
  10. As a young lad, not long out of training, I had the mispleasure of going to Leconsfield for my driver training.

    I was stuck in a 18 man room in Sword block, with a couple of Signals lads, and a few RLC mongs. There was one crusty old RLC fullscrew in with us and he ruled the roost. He wasn't the biggest of lads, but he was big enough, with short dark hair, a permanent 5 o'clock shadow, and a desperate dan chin. He took a disliking to one of the young sigs lads, no idea why? Every morning this Cpl would abuse the sigs lad, mess his kit up, throw his beret around, and generally be a cunt. The same in the evening.
    As a young lad, I stayed well out of it. I was more than happy for the other poor fella to get the attention.

    I've no idea if the block layout in Leconsfield is still the same, but it used to be bed, then locker (with top-box) then bed, locker etc etc all the way down both sides of the room.

    One night the whole room gets woken by what sounds like a plane ditching in the desert. Everyone's up in a flash and the lights are turned on. The young sig lads has pushed the Cpls locker over, effectively pinning him to his bed. The top locker has spilled all over the floor. The Cpls going mental trying to get up or wriggle out from under the locker whilst the young sigs lad sets about his grid with his fists and a boot he has grabbed off the floor.

    I happily watched for what felt like an eternity before the Cpl managed to get loose. Then both of them bugged out of the room amongst cheers from the onlookers.

    The young lad was too quick for the fullscrew, and got away from him. No idea where the sigs fella slept that night, but he didn't come back to the room. The next morning the fullscrews face was a picture, black eye, cut lip and eye. He was schimpfing all morning about finding the lad and killing him.

    I assume that the sigs lad was either RTU'd, or moved to a different block after speaking to someone, because he never came back to the room, and his kit was gone when we got back at COP.