To Skiff or not to Skiff. That is the question.

Discussion in 'Now That's What I Call NAAFI Bar' started by error_unknown, Feb 18, 2004.

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  1. I was getting some industrial strength jip from my three year old lad the other night. Being a modern parent, I resisted all urges and kept explaining to him patiently that he shouldn't write on the kitchen wall and that he was being unreasonable by throwing things at me.

    Throughout our dialogue, there was a mental devil on my shoulder shouting "Skiff him Convoy, that'll learn him."

    The angel on the other side was saying, "For fcuks sake Convoy, you left all that filthy behaviour behind you when you signed off."

    I eventually sided with the angel and retreated to another room. The argument was settled when I simply turned the new album by Goldfrapp up until I couldn't hear him.

    But it did lead me to think how many of lifes problems could be solved by skiffing. Controversial perhaps, where kids are concerned. The fact that they generally don't have moustaches unless they are Greek would reduce its effectiveness as a punishment.

    How do other posters feel? Is the drawing of a sh*t covered finger across the upper lip of an annoying person, an honourable way to behave? I would be interested to hear any particularly foul anecdotes featuring skiffage. This may help to drag the NAAFI back into the gutter where it belongs.
  2. I recall the first time I was skiffed... I thoroughyl deserved it but can still smell it know.

    I was playing pool with a pal, and took it upon myself to let loose a CO2 fire extinguisher on the naked crack of his builders bum... this made him badly tear the green baize of the table, we continued although he hurt his head on the ceiling and lost all feeling in his arse for twenty minutes.

    I had been on leave for a few days and hadn't shaved so the stubble was hightly absorbent and gave a greater surface area to spread on.

    When I bent over to take a shot he forced his finger up his hoop and wiped it from left to right on my top lip, leaving a smart soldier like poo tache.

    I will never forget the vile stench and the stomach ache that went with it.

    Since then I have fended off potential foes and stitched up pals... it is an awesome means of attack and defense.

    In younger years I would entertain myself with fat birds, get them back to thier houses, give them a good rooting, wait until they fell asleep, give em a poo tache and leave... :D
  3. Ok to stop all the rumours I have never been skiffed, I am a gwar and I have a tache, a proper one, it is not poo skiff.. honest ok! :D
  4. This one wasn't a textbook execution but was certainly done in the spirit of skiffage

    We were doing adventure training down south and it was supposed to be a laugh. But a right fcking cheeser of a Sgt was determined to make it less fun. He made us parade at a caff near the beach at half seven every morning, the twat.

    We'd all be there ballbagged from a night on Union Street, and he'd rock up at 20 to 8 smoking his pipe, before we went on to do rock climbing or whatever.

    The last morning, we were all sat there. He came in, put his pipe down and went to get himself a brew. Quick as a flash, one of the lads, dropped his strides and exposed a particularly capacious urethra. He got the mouth piece down his japper and gave it a good rummage for a minute or so, while we all gagged and laughed at the same time.

    Tosspot came back and stuck it straight back in his gob. He didn't seem to notice the prescence of stale wazz and lazy sperm and chewed on it like a good 'un.
  5. This is another tale in the spirit of skiffing. We had a soldier at my last place who was probably the worst i'd ever served with. He was in a great deal of sh1te, and subsequently had a legal team the same size as OJ Simpson.

    He started theiving from the lads, but nobody could prove anything. We went on battle camp, and he went to sleep in his maggot. One of the lads nicked his rifle and removed the A2 cocking handle, pulled down his strides and stuck it up his arrse. Having given himself a good pumping with it, he returned it to the rifle with a good sized nob of sh1t on the handle. Next day he didnt notice and i was gagging every time i shouted ready when he was on the APWT.

    The same sort of thing went on during the week, an unwashed bell end in his chinstrap and the water pipe in his ressie getting a skiffing. The lads didnt get anything back from the thieving to$$er, but it made them feel better.
  6. I always thought skiffing, was when someone curled one off on a table, everyone around the table placed their chin on the edge, the 'skiff monster' placed a beermat on the turd and thumped it.... I believe that this is also known as freckles...

  7. Back of a 4 tonner many moons ago coming back from the ranges, it had been one of those hot summer days and everyone was taking 10 mins kip spread out in the you do.

    Just dozing off when I became aware of an odd smell very close to my nose, opened my eyes to see my Section Cmd pulling his finger away having left a good dollop of HELMET CHEESE under my reaction........lick my top lip :lol:

    After that I was converted.......I got one bloke OTP in the Shot a cracker, he had one of those gay/mexican/droopy taches which seemed to be the rage him with a finger full of shite, clinkers hanging off it all night... :lol: :lol: :lol:

    From memory it drifted in and out of fashion with the lads, there would be a bout of Skiffing for a few weeks then nothing for ages. Try and explain it to your civvy mates.........they don't get it for some reason.
  8. 3 Para Mortars then? :D

    Skiffing really is the sport of Kings and Egg is right, civvies just don't understand it. Since reading this earlier I have cleaned my top lip a dozen times as the scent of butt mud seems too close for comfort. Odd how when you think about something you can smell it
  9. As I remember, the perfect delivery involved a full frontal attack and not the more cowardly, sneak up from behind.

    Extra points were awarded for actually saying the word "SKIFF" as you did it. I agree with you there Eggbanjo, it did seem to drift in and out of fashion in Aldershot. In skiff season it was possible to both a skiffer and skiffee in the space of a NAAFI break.

    I remember receiving a thumb attack at the bar of the George. I think he'd used his thumb due to there being more surface area for the cack to adhere to. I saw him coming so took evasive action. I shouldn't have bothered, as all I got was his thumb in my mouth for my trouble. Every time I smell a packet of beef and onion crisps, i'm reminded of the incident.
  10. Nah... the stealth skiff was always the favoured means of delivery.

    To sneak up behind someone and deliver a precision skiff required a great deal of skill. If someone suspects in iminent attack the counter measures deployed can prove damaging. If you can't hit thier top lip then its not worth doing.

    If you hit the top lip with a skiff off suitable smeginess, the victim is traumatised for quite sometime, often thinking and recalling the scent while shaving etc etc.. regualrly making the weaker skiffees heave.

    It takes only a few minutes to get rid of the stench of eartha kitt but the memory of the claypit ming lives for many moons.

    I am going to attempt a skiff on a civvy pal tomorrow to see how he takes it :D
  11. Many moons ago, having just returned from a particularly good night out.
    A certain chap by the name of "Eric the Bayonet" came staggering into the room (4 man type room) and started shouting at the bloke occupying the bed space across from me. Get up you fcukin wakner, I'll flatten you now etc etc. Guy opposite doesn't move (he was even more pissed) and continued to snore. "Eric" drops his trolleys and curls a richard on this blokes ear, smiles and walks out.
    I then fell asleep, still quietly laughing to myself.
    The next morning this bloke wakes up and says "who's bloody farted then?" to which we other 3 occupants of the room laugh our shreddies off.
    Picture his face, having tossed and turned all night long, it took him ten minutes of scrubbing to get it all off.
  12. I had to resurrect this thread.

    Theres a bloke who's just started working in our office and he's a skiffers dream.

    He's got a big ginger handlebar moustache. He looks like that guy Wilf, who used to do the mad inventions on Take Hart.

    He's at least 3 stone overweight and has therefore no chance of escaping my sh*tty embrace.

    I had a Balti Silsila last night with a Guinness chaser. I went to the toilet this morning but in my haste, failed to wipe adequately. I am currently sitting on a goldmine of skiff. It's clinging to my undercrackers and arrse hair just begging to be deployed.

    I'm looking over at him now. His muzzy seems to be calling me eerily

    "Convoy, convoy come and rub so much turd into me, that the smell will never leave."

    Must......resist, need....this....job.
  13. my brother kev is the south east champion at the covert skiff , he's got the worst set of farmers i've ever seen , and more than one skifee has recieved a tinge of claret with it , oh there faces as they bolt for the pub door gagging , you're right civvies dont get it , but they are still getting it ... if you know what i mean
    convoy , give in to the urge , get yourself "fully loaded" with a finger like a 40 a day rolly smoker and let the non aryan gwar f**ker feel the tang of a full top lipper.
    by the way , i've just had to leave the office crying doing big snot bubbles.
    thanks for making my friday.
  14. Go on CC, go on CC, CC, go on CC, CC, go on CC, CC, go on CC, CC, go on CC.
    We were on exercise and the tosser of a CO comes round doing his usual "are you alright, is the post getting through, what do you do in your day job"
    He then told one of my Cpls to be off and make him a coffee, white one sugar.
    Well said Cpl not to pleased by this demand and the way he was told thought this to be an ideal opportunity to Skiff. Produced his cheesy bell (we had been on exercise for a week at this point, so there was a fair bit of cheese) and wiped it around the top of the mug and then rubbed sugar on to it.
    He then took it back to the CO who proceeded to lick sugar from the outside and drink the hot froth.
  15. Here's one that will appeal to BB.

    The RTI phase of SF combat survival training involves a good old body cavity search. Those interrogators keen on achieving a 'no comebacks' skiff of potential SAS killers can get their marigolds on and have a good rummage with a wooden spatula through the nether regions of said maniacs, before unleashing the same instrument on nostrils, ears and mouths.

    It's tough at the top.