It Was 18 Years Ago Today

Kids in the UK got their A-Level results yesterday (apart from Scotland maybe, I think they have a different school system); I got mine this day in 1996, a day before my 18th birthday.

The gang (John, Paul, George and Ringo) and I had previously arranged to go to school to get our results dressed in old suits, preferably 1970s-style in weird colours and with big collars. On the day, only John actually did it. He wasn't too pleased when we all turned up at his house wearing normal clothes and he looked like Jason King.

We went to school and got our results. We all got what we needed to get to the universities we had applied for, apart from Ringo, but he got the grades to get to his second/reserve choice. I got two As, a C and a D (30 UCAS points). I only needed 16 points. We saw some other friends too and everyone was pretty happy with their results as far as I can remember.

We then went to George's house for drinks. His parents were on holiday in France. Without him. We raided their drinks cabinet, but all there was was Tia Maria. We drank the bottle anyway. Feeling invigorated, we ventured on to everyone else's houses to tell our parents the results.

We then headed into town to continue the drinking at our usual haunts. We expected to see the rest of our school year out having a good time too, but we didn't see any of them for the rest of the day. I don't know what they were doing. Losers. One person we did see was one of the younger teachers (let's call her Miss Moneypenny) from our school, who had taught John, Paul and George. We ended up hanging out with her for a few hours. Miss Moneypenny bought us all drinks and shared her menthol cigarettes with us, though none of us normally smoked.

One of my uncles had recently taken over a pub and had started a cricket team, for which I played. The team had a match that day at 6pm (at Leek Hockey Club). So, at around 5.45pm, we said goodbye to Miss Moneypenny and left the pub. We had been there since about 1.30pm. It became apparent as we got outside that we were all pretty wasted, but isn't that always the way?

John decided to come with me to the match, Paul, George and Ringo all went home. John and I reached Leek Hockey Club late, a bit after 6pm. It turned out we only had nine players, which included me (very drunk) and my uncle, who had recently been in an accident and had his left arm in plaster. I asked my uncle if John could play to make up the numbers. I turned around to see if John was up for it but he was lying on the floor, either passed out or asleep. We just left him there.

Our team was batting, so I had a bit of time to sober up. Though, as it turned out, not much time, as we soon slumped to 15 for 7 wickets. I got the pads off the previously dismissed batsman (we only had two pairs) and made my way to the middle.

I'm more of a bowler than a batsman. My approach to batting is to defend anything straight and slog at anything wide. First ball I got was wide of off stump so I had a big heave at it. I sliced it a fair distance and we managed 2 runs. If I hadn't been drunk we could have easily got 3, maybe 4. Second ball up was much the same, though I got a weaker connection and we only managed to get 1 run. My uncle was now on strike, batting one handed. The next ball went through his feeble defences and knocked the stumps over. We were 18 all out. I top scored with 3 not out.

We decided not to have a mid-innings break and carried straight on with the match. I was sent to field on the boundary, which was a wire fence to keep animals out of the hockey club's cricket and hockey pitches. Almost immediately, I threw up, though I did manage to put my head over the wire fence as I did it, so as not to sully the outfield. The menthol cigarettes left a strong aftertaste, which covered the usual vomity taste but gave a different and just as bad sensation. The ball did get hit towards me a couple of times and I managed to field the ball OK. The other team only needed three overs to reach the target score. I think I threw up three times too.

The normal practise after matches was to head back to my uncle's pub for drinks and sandwiches, but I decided to go home. We woke John up. Someone gave us a lift back to my house in the trailer on the back of their car. John said he would be OK to walk home, so we said goodbye. I went to bed to sleep.

I was woken at about 9pm by George, who had come around with some cans of beer. I felt much better after my sleep, though I could still taste the menthol cigarettes. We had a couple of beers and talked. I don't remember what about, but it was a nice low-key end to a crazy day, which had been a memorable end to my adolescence.

The Day We Caught The Bus

I missed the bus to work this morning. There was another one like twenty minutes later so it wasn't a big deal.

As I had fifteen minutes or so to kill, I went for a walk around the town centre. It was eerily quiet at 8am, barely a soul around, like something from '28 Days Later'. But in a small market town rather than London.

Leek, this morning

The only shop I saw open was a butchers. This only added to the spooky atmosphere. Why does a butcher need to open up at 8am? And if there were zombies, this would surely attract them.

I quickly retreated to the safety of the bus station, and took my place next to the pregnant woman smoking a cigarette and the guy who looked like a pervert and/or serial killer. This is my town and these are my people.

This Pie Tastes Off

There was once a shop called Westpoint Stores. Lots of children used to shoplift sweets there. Someone I knew at school lived next door.

The shop was closed for selling shit pies. And I don't men pies of a poor standard, I mean the woman who ran the shop went a bit mad and put animal shit in the pies.

I don't know how anyone found out about this.

"I'm certain I can taste shit in this pie."

"How do you know what shit tastes like?"

"Erm..."

The shop has since been converted into a house. I don't know the people who live there and I don't know if they know what went on there.

Noggy, Wherefore Art Thou?

There used to be a crazy man in my town [Leek] called Noggy. He always used to walk around holding a radio, tuned in to BBC Radio Five. It was annoying much of the time, but quite handy on a Saturday afternoon, because you could hear the latest football scores.

No-one used to bother Noggy, they left him to his own devices. I don't know if he had any friends or a girlfriend. Do women find men who carry radios around with them attractive?

He disappeared once for a month or two, no-one saw or heard from him. "Where's Noggy?", people would say. "I want to know the score in the Wycombe-Darlington match. I've got a tenner on an away win."

You can't keep a good man down, of course. Noggy made his own comeback special. He returned; this time with a massive boom box.

The novelty began to wear off for many people. Walking aroung town with a little radio pumping out Radio Five is one thing, but holding a massive boom box at full volume soon gets annoying.

Noggy retired from public view soon after. I don't know how many people remember him or ever think of him,  but I do.  Maybe, millions of years from now, somewhere in the universe, there'll be an alien race with a massive telescope watching people on Earth. "Have you seen this? There's some weird-looking guy walking around a quaint English town centre holding a massive boom box."

Leek Landmarks (2)

No. 2: Bombay Bob's

What better way to eat during a visit to Leek than by stuffing your face full of chip shop cuisine? Bombay Bob (real name: Bombay Robin Williams) offers a wide-range of fat-based meals from chips to chips and gravy. Bob also tried getting in on the take-away curry and pizza game but that hasn't really worked out and has meant that he's had to put the business up for sale. Several people are interested including Cockey Pete and Vegas Vince.

UPDATE: Bombay Bob has now sold out to a chinese family and the outlet has been renamed Emperor's Court.

Leek Landmarks (1)

No. 1: The Old Abandoned Cinema

The old abandoned cinema, near to Kwik Fit, is one of Leek's great memorials to the past. Despite having been closed since the mid-1980s, it is still a popular topic of conversation for the many people in Leek who can talk.

Many a classic film was shown here over the years such as 'Ghostbusters', 'The Care Bears Movie' and the classic British comedy 'Carry On Badger-Baiting'.

Rumour has it that Elizabeth Taylor once visited the cinema in the days before she went rubbish and started hanging out with Michael Jackson. The rumour was later found to have been made up by a young girl. The girl was sacrificed to the corn gods to appease their anger.

UPDATE: Both the cinema and Kwik Fit no longer exist having been destroyed to make way for some wasteland.

Welcome To Leek

Yeah, I live in a town called Leek. What's that, you've never heard of it? OK, I guess I'll have to tell you about it.



Located in the Staffordshire Moorlands in England's "Midlands", Leek is a small town of little diversity or culture. There is one book shop. There used to be a Woolworth's in Leek but it closed down, and there is an area called Trafalgar Square, which is actually more of a triangle, each side being around 10 centimetres in length. Although a town, Leek is actually an allegory about the disintegration of the British Empire.



A typical house in Leek


Conventional religion has been frowned upon in Leek for quite some time and our residents worship the corn. This was introduced many years ago although no-one can remember why.

When entering Leek, there are many local traditions that should observed. There must be no mention of the outside world. No-one who lives in Leek can ever escape so it's pointless getting the locals excited with exotic tales of "Olde London Town", "Paris" or "Stoke-on-Trent". Also, top hats must never be worn!

There are countless things to do in Leek. You could go to a pub. You could play pool or darts. In a pub. You could do some karaoke. In a pub. Alternatively, if you want do do something different, you could go out for a pub meal. Fighting is an optional extra at all pubs in Leek.

So why not pay us a visit? You have quite literally got nothing to lose! Apart from your temper. And sense of rhythm.

Whip-Smart

I am am man of questionable virtues, born and raised in the backwater, corn-worshipping town of Leek in Staffordshire.

My interests include making voodoo dolls out of corn, eating corn, harvesting corn and sacrificing virgins to the corn gods. (To appease their anger.) Any money I make goes towards the converting of land into useful corn-producing fields.

My dislikes include hops and barley, and I played an instrumental part in the Second Crops War of 2003, during which the lives of many donkeys were lost.

This blog is dedicated to those donkeys.

Some of the above may not be true. I can't remember anymore.