Where are they now?

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Hector_Chavez_V, Oct 7, 2011.

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  1. Reunions have never been my thing, I tipped up to a school reunion a couple of years ago and got predictably pissed, true to form I rounded up my former group of miscreants and fucked about just as we did years ago, my night ended with us jousting in a hotel corridor in bed sheet togas whilst brandishing mops/brooms proffed from a cleaning cupboard.

    Amongst the attendees were some shining examples of achievement, the token 'skaterboy' was now designing and building skate ramps all over the world, (a topic that has a fucking half life of 2000 years judging by the half hour I spent listening to him), my 5th year squeeze had transformed herself from the 16 year old, sluttily dressed tramp who used to let me eat her out on a golf course to a sharply dressed sales executive who merely breezed past me with a sardonic smile and a 'of all people I never thought you'd show up!!' quip, this may have something to do with the fact that I robbed her Mum and Dads entire kitchen of anything resembling alcohol one summers evening, including a bottle of 30 year old red wine they had had saved as a treasured momento, they needn't have bothered it was honking and full of bits of cork but surprisingly enough the hardest kid in the year was now a raving beefer, gone was the bone crushing dead arms, the threats to meet anyone who fucked with him that he would get them after school and the kilo weight greenies he used to fire out all the time, all replaced by a salmon pink shirt and some severly dodgy veneers that looked like he had put them on with his feet, undoubtably his fagness would have been a surefire comfort to me the day that he bounced his forehead off my 13 year old nose at a swimming baths, an incident coincidentally that took the form of a near UN intervention as my Dad filled in his Dad quite severly in front of half the school.

    Same applies at the regimental/Coy/Bty reunions I've been on, the mood is generally fun aside from one notorious prick of a Captain now Major saying he thought I'd be either dead or in prison by now which was comforting, I considered being childish and discussing salaries but the buffet was calling :) I found it to be quite comforting when you get a butchers at those of who either gone to seed or them that have not quite let go of the whole 'squaddie' thing.

    The most surprising of all was a fat knacker who in the space of a decade had been a paramedic, then a bobby and had landed a role with a huge security company as a consultant, this was the man who once burst into tears in a batco lesson and feigned dyslexia before being binned off the course.

    Other notable success's were quite impressive, amongst the graduates, the high fliers and the those that were now sitting comfortably as senior ranks there were some wholly dire individuals that rocked up.

    'Dave', a prolific racing snake from the Wirral had done some serious bird, being an ex squaddie and to be fair pretty handy he ended up looking after some scouse big shot but was caught red handed at the airport with him with class A drugs, the other bloke breezed through and our 'Dave' didnt pass go or collect his £200..

    My old razzman? A train conductor, fatter, balder and stoically hanging onto any last vestige of respect given to him by those at the get together who were still rammed right up his arse, I hadn't the heart to tell him that during my 14 days ROPS I jizzed on his shirt collar every night when I was dispatched to the mess to iron his rig and shine his boots, he bought me a cheeky vimto which is more than enough to buy my affections.

    The clear winner though was a lad called spud, fuck all to do with the 'Taylor' connection it was because he was an oddly shaped half arab with stuff growing out of his ears, not content with siring kids all over Lancashire, he'd set up in Spain and ploughed his cash into a bar and lived it up for a bit. After returning to the UK he put his dough into a brothel near Man Citys ground with the atypical red light in the window and a steady stream of illuminous jacketed work men coming and going. Luck was not on his side when he was dragged from his house and leathered by some lunatics for his 'takings', resulting in him having his hands carressed by a hammer, the peak of his success however saw him attempting to do a Reggie Perin and at the time of the function he was living the highlife on the dole at his parents at 40 years of age.

    How did your oppos/schoolmates pan out?
     
  2. A couple have been nauseatingly successful: both in business and life. The fuckers made their millions and are now swanning about the world (with their respective families, not each other) having fun and showing no sign of being bored. Even more annoying is that they are good guys so I cant even take comfort in hating them.

    The rest? A couple have died from drugs, one from AIDS (and a few more turned out to be screaming whoopsies) but the most are just dull as ditchwater: they stayed on Guernsey (or returned to it as soon as they finished their degree) and lead boring lives working out of boring offices. What is truly pathetic (and I'm terrified that I could end up the same way) is that when I visit the island after a year away, and now over 20 years since school, I know that if I walk into certain pubs on a certain day at a certain time the same poor cunts will be sat in the same place talking bolloxs about their insect-like lives.
     
  3. From my schools days? Virtually all of them have moved away to all over the country and abroad. Rarely meet any of them, and they all try to deny having ever lived in the "New Town".
     
  4. On the schoolmates front I hardly see any of them but I can mention two that give me some satisfaction. First is a lad called John who was the years ponce quite often though. He was the footballer who was going to the top, was gonna marry a supermodel and end up playing for Barca. Sadly for him but hilariously for me his attitude and commitment didn't match his ability and he now drives a van for a tools and fixings firm. Always give him a toothy grin when I see him.

    Suzanne. She was fucking perfect. Tits to die for, big blue eyes and an arse carved in stone.She was also thick as fuck and like all black meat in the late 80's loved reggae, although she spelt it reggie and proper fell out with me for pointing this out while staring at her tits. I fancied her right up until she got pregnant by a big jig with an XR2i. She waddled into the final exams in shellsuit bottoms and a hoodie accompanied by loads of bus reversing sounds and giggling. She's 35 and already a grandmother.

    Oppo's

    Still keep in touch but the about one is 'lucky' Dave. The poor bastard was cursed.

    When he left the army he got married to a woman daft enough to put up with his never ending accidents and utter fuckwittery, them promptly got bollock cancer. He recovered but its come back since and he's recovering at the minute. Before he became a eunuch he managed to knock his doris up and even that went wrong. In and out of hospital before she goes and has the poor mite so early it should have dribbled out. All good now though.

    I honestly think that one day I'll get a call telling me a piano has landed on the poor bastard.
     
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  5. I suppose I can fire up my epic failure on facebook, which to be fair is an ongoing reunion in itself.
    After screeching through the vaginas of a bakers dozen of old flames my proverbial goose was cooked when the six degrees of separation played it's cool hand as my birds mate clocked me in a passionate clinch with a scutter in Bournemouth when I was supposed to be in Cardiff on a rugby trip, facebook is the devil!!
     
  6. I've only been to one, some 30+ years after leaving school. Bit boring to be honest, until the school bully walked in. He thought I'd forgotten him, I hadn't. Doubt if I'll ever get invited to another one. He had really let himself go, plus the speed at which I smashed him in the mouth with a pint pot took everyone by suprise, even me.

    Edited to add. I had issues until that point.
     
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  7. Puts me in mind of me and Reggie C****r really did enjoy twatting him in the street. He was an evil bastard at school.
     
  8. Whats that German word shameful joy? Someone will be along soon to tell me. Any way lets call him Chris because that's his name.

    School football captain, good looking, knocking off the best looking girl in school and everybody liked him. I left at 16 and did not see him again until some 12 odd years later when I was at a low point. I am buying the smallest amount of tobacco you can get and one pack of rizzlas with a couple of quid I borrowed off my Brother,(told you it was one of them it cant get worse than this moments) I am buying the baccy and this bloke says "Hi Jebote, how are you I heard you joined the army, you still in? there is Chris looks fit and healthy, dressed well. We walk outside the great big BMW I noticed as I walked in is his ( had to be didn't it) he does something with weather proof nuts and bolts for the off shore industry. Hes fucking minted. He gives me his card and says we should meet up for a pint.

    I walk home casually skimming his card into the evening drizzle, reviewing recent events that had brought about this catastrophic reduction in circumstances all self inflicted.

    Some years later after manning the fuck up, and getting my shit in one sock. I run in to Chris in a pub. He now seems not quite so tall as before and he is fat I mean circus act fat. I ask how is business. He gives me the long story of the company going into receivership with huge debts. He is now working for his mate painting and decorating cash in hand, I buy him a pint and we play a game of pool.

    I was chuffed to fuck.

    All the rest of the school mates were cunts as well, didn't meet anybody worth knowing until I left the place.
     
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  9. brettarider

    brettarider On ROPs

    Half my peer group from school have either had a long term addiction or have pegged it from the skag a few more have been in her majesties lesiure camps. Recenty on facebook I had a cunt trying to bad mouth me for highlighting the town I grew up in had become full of junkies and scum and had fuck all going for it...gues he didnt like the truth.
     
  10. From what I can gather, most of them still live in Hull. A few of them in the hotel behind the big grey walls on Hedon Road.
     
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  11. Schadenfreude?
     
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  12. Yeah that's it, The bride just got home and I asked her, 3 languages in one head, seriously I don't know how she can live at that speed.
     
  13. The malicious enjoyment of another persons misfortune. Nothing quite like it.
     
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  14. I grew up in St.Helens too.
     
  15. Snap, on the last paragraph. Someone clever once said that "you can choose your friends, but you can`t choose your family". He wasn`t clever enough to add that you can`t choose who you are sent to school with.
     
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