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Old 05-02-2018, 11:53 AM
Cream
 
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Throw
Nothing wrong with dungarees during acid house Keithers.

For my sins - a pork pie hat and a pair of bowling shoes when I was 14.
Not sure if Irk wants to chip in here?
 
Old 05-02-2018, 12:00 PM
sub three hours
 
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by Throw
Nothing wrong with dungarees during acid house Keithers.

For my sins - a pork pie hat and a pair of bowling shoes when I was 14.


Whilst you danced to Ska and Reggae
 
Old 05-02-2018, 12:03 PM
Throw
 
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by sub three hours


Whilst you danced to Ska and Reggae
Eventually - at that age it was more The Specials and The Jam, amongst others.
 
Old 05-02-2018, 12:09 PM
irk
 
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Cream
Not sure if Irk wants to chip in here?
This thread is dredging up memories best left repressed.
 
Old 05-02-2018, 12:13 PM
suedeshoes
 
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Nothing. Everything I've worn I thought was cool at the time.
 
Old 05-02-2018, 12:26 PM
Ethers
 
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It was the early noughties. The Libertines were riding high in the charts. I basically wanted to look like one of them and shag lots of indie girls with lego haircuts.

Frankly, I couldn’t be arsed with the fancy jackets, or even the blazer craze that was sweeping the nations youth. I decided a ripped shirt and some ripped jeans was as far as I was willing to go, couples with a pair of Dunlop’s finest Green Flash.

Got my white t-shirt, grabbed a pair of scissors. Made a couple of cuts on the torso. Hmmm. Needed to go a bit further. Decided to cut the arms more or less completely off. Ok, we’re getting somewhere. Next, I cut out the neck. Not really sure why, and it left me with a massive jagged scoop neck top the kind you’d usually see on a 72-year old Grandma. As one final act of creativity, I cut up both sides of the shirt and safety pinned it back together.

Wow. This really looked shit, but staggeringly I decided to wear it out. Off to 42s I headed. Fairly early in the night, a very red drink was spilled over my white top, leading to what could be mistaken for a splash of dried blood down my front. This, coupled with the extremely weird way the shirt sat and flapped about on me after my alterations, gave me the look of some kind of demented medical professional in a surgeons gown.

I must have looked the king of all cunts.

Astonishingly, I managed to pull an 8.3 from Preston and engaged in below average intercourse back at her house in Fallowfield.
 
Old 05-02-2018, 12:28 PM
Lazlo Panaflex
 
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by Ethers
It was the early noughties. The Libertines were riding high in the charts. I basically wanted to look like one of them and shag lots of indie girls with lego haircuts.

Frankly, I couldn’t be arsed with the fancy jackets, or even the blazer craze that was sweeping the nations youth. I decided a ripped shirt and some ripped jeans was as far as I was willing to go, couples with a pair of Dunlop’s finest Green Flash.

Got my white t-shirt, grabbed a pair of scissors. Made a couple of cuts on the torso. Hmmm. Needed to go a bit further. Decided to cut the arms more or less completely off. Ok, we’re getting somewhere. Next, I cut out the neck. Not really sure why, and it left me with a massive jagged scoop neck top the kind you’d usually see on a 72-year old Grandma. As one final act of creativity, I cut up both sides of the shirt and safety pinned it back together.

Wow. This really looked shit, but staggeringly I decided to wear it out. Off to 42s I headed. Fairly early in the night, a very red drink was spilled over my white top, leading to what could be mistaken for a splash of dried blood down my front. This, coupled with the extremely weird way the shirt sat and flapped about on me after my alterations, gave me the look of some kind of demented medical professional in a surgeons gown.

I must have looked the king of all cunts.

Astonishingly, I managed to pull an 8.3 from Preston and engaged in below average intercourse back at her house in Fallowfield.
 
Old 05-02-2018, 12:28 PM
silv
 
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by Ethers
It was the early noughties. The Libertines were riding high in the charts. I basically wanted to look like one of them and shag lots of indie girls with lego haircuts.

Frankly, I couldn’t be arsed with the fancy jackets, or even the blazer craze that was sweeping the nations youth. I decided a ripped shirt and some ripped jeans was as far as I was willing to go, couples with a pair of Dunlop’s finest Green Flash.

Got my white t-shirt, grabbed a pair of scissors. Made a couple of cuts on the torso. Hmmm. Needed to go a bit further. Decided to cut the arms more or less completely off. Ok, we’re getting somewhere. Next, I cut out the neck. Not really sure why, and it left me with a massive jagged scoop neck top the kind you’d usually see on a 72-year old Grandma. As one final act of creativity, I cut up both sides of the shirt and safety pinned it back together.

Wow. This really looked shit, but staggeringly I decided to wear it out. Off to 42s I headed. Fairly early in the night, a very red drink was spilled over my white top, leading to what could be mistaken for a splash of dried blood down my front. This, coupled with the extremely weird way the shirt sat and flapped about on me after my alterations, gave me the look of some kind of demented medical professional in a surgeons gown.

I must have looked the king of all cunts.

Astonishingly, I managed to pull an 8.3 from Preston and engaged in below average intercourse back at her house in Fallowfield.
Link to you and the woman please.
 
Old 05-02-2018, 12:30 PM
sa7
 
Default

Gelled curtains.

The 1990s
 
Old 05-02-2018, 12:33 PM
andyroo
 
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by Ethers
It was the early noughties. The Libertines were riding high in the charts. I basically wanted to look like one of them and shag lots of indie girls with lego haircuts.

Frankly, I couldn’t be arsed with the fancy jackets, or even the blazer craze that was sweeping the nations youth. I decided a ripped shirt and some ripped jeans was as far as I was willing to go, couples with a pair of Dunlop’s finest Green Flash.

Got my white t-shirt, grabbed a pair of scissors. Made a couple of cuts on the torso. Hmmm. Needed to go a bit further. Decided to cut the arms more or less completely off. Ok, we’re getting somewhere. Next, I cut out the neck. Not really sure why, and it left me with a massive jagged scoop neck top the kind you’d usually see on a 72-year old Grandma. As one final act of creativity, I cut up both sides of the shirt and safety pinned it back together.

Wow. This really looked shit, but staggeringly I decided to wear it out. Off to 42s I headed. Fairly early in the night, a very red drink was spilled over my white top, leading to what could be mistaken for a splash of dried blood down my front. This, coupled with the extremely weird way the shirt sat and flapped about on me after my alterations, gave me the look of some kind of demented medical professional in a surgeons gown.

I must have looked the king of all cunts.

Astonishingly, I managed to pull an 8.3 from Preston and engaged in below average intercourse back at her house in Fallowfield.
qualiteh
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