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'?