Category Archives: Mates


I think I mentioned a few weeks ago that work has been manic. It still is but to a lesser degree now. I had a great time at the task in Battersea Park in October which I have already spoken about. I was able to put a great team of guys together for that task. I’d worked with them all previously and knew they were more than up for the job. The Boss is good in that. He lets me select the guys I want which is nice.

The Boss

The Boss

We had teams covering 24 hours a day for the week we were there. There were only 2 working during the night. “Syco” Steve who I have known and worked with for many years was one of them. He thinks he’s Paul Weller but in reality he looks like Carl from the animated movie ‘UP!’. For some odd reason he goes off on one when we present him with a gift of tennis balls or balloons. I have never understood why.

'Syco' Steve

‘Syco’ Steve

Alongside him during the darkness was Filipino Chris, who, oddly enough, comes from the Philippines. Amongst his many talents (the ability to speak clearly in English not being one of them!), Chris is an expert in the martial art of Filipino stick fighting. From what I understand this involves a shed load of Filipinos fighting each other with sticks.

Filipinos fighting with sticks

Filipinos fighting with sticks

During the day I was joined by Simon who very definitely is not simple.

Infantile things to do with a banana on a sunny day in Battersea. Will you ever grow up Si?

Infantile things to do with a banana on a sunny day in Battersea. Will you ever grow up Si?

Sam the teenager serial killer who, at the age of 23, still buys his clothes from the children’s section of Asda. He has a 28 inch waist for Gods sake! At one stage we found him prowling around the park. We were convinced he has looking for places to dig shallow graves.



Also working long days was Luke, another youngster. The mad fool spent good money on a haircut that made him look like Kim Jong Un! You can guess what we called him.



His satnav certainly came from North Korea as it always took him over Albert Bridge, along  Chelsea Embankment, back over Chelsea Bridge and into the park at Chelsea Gate in Queenstown Road. This was from Clapham Junction! It did make me feel slightly better about the North Koreans developing ICBM nuclear missiles though. With that kind of navigation system if they ever did launch they’d probably nuke Pyongyang. One of the other guys working the day shift was Seb the sex mad Pole.



Our first day at Battersea started at 6am and didn’t end until 7pm when we all left to go back to our hotel. All except Seb who went home to his girlfriend. The following morning, just before 7am, we assembled to start our day, have breakfast in crew catering and generally get started. Seb rocked up looking like a sack of shit!

“Blimey mate.” I said. “You look cream crackered.”

“Crackers? I like Jacobs with cheese and pickle but I hope there is more than that for breakfast.” said Seb

“No you idiot. I meant you look worn out.” I replied

Seb looked confused so I explained cockney rhyming slang to him.

“Cream crackered is slang for ‘knackered’ me old china.”

“Ah. I see but I am a Pole. I am not the Chinese.” retorted Seb.

“No mate. ‘China’ is slang for ‘mate’ mate.”

I could see this was going to be hard work.

“But ‘China’ does not rhyme with ‘mate’ does it?”

“Ah yes but ‘China Plate’ does.”

“You cockerknees are strange people. Worse than you English.”

“So mate. Why are you so worn out?”

“It is my girlfriend.” said Seb. “She wants sex all the time. We make love, we finish and straight away she want more. Then more again and then some more after that. It is costing me a fortune in Viagra but I cannot say ‘No’ can I? Nearly 5 hours of non stop sex last night my friend and my penis is sore which is why I walk like I crapped my pants.”

“You jammy bastard. I wish I had a girlfriend like that.” said Luke, who Simon and I suspect is still a virgin and with that stupid North Korean haircut is likely to remain one for some time.

“Me too.” said Sam who claims he has a girlfriend but only in his imagination.

I looked at Simon. Simon looked at me. We are both wiser to the ways of the world and so I said to Seb,

“Well, me old China. If you did it right the first time, you wouldn’t have this problem. At least you’d get a 20 minute tea break in between sessions.”

Seb on being told he was doing "It" all wrong

Seb on being told he was doing “It” all wrong

“What’s for breakfast? I fancy a full English.” I strolled off for breakfast leaving Seb to figure it out.

Me hard at it

Me hard at it

And our day started.

Every day for a week, Seb rocked up for work looking very much the worse for wear and walking like John Wayne. A sack of potatoes looked in better shape!

I’m back in North London now working with ‘Banzai Noor’ the human garbage disposal unit, Daniel, Jay, Izzy the Tightarse, Ian and Zain. Work is now a little easier but I’m beginning to think I’m too bloody old for all this crap. Please God. let me win the lottery!

Have a great day.

More Dick

My Mate Norm and How Gross Can 17 Year Olds Be?

Back in December, I wrote a post about wasps and how they have got me in trouble with the law and with PIL. If I’ve done it correctly, you can read about that here.

On the occasion I was in Wales indulging in a bit of surf kayaking I was with a number of mates.surfkayak1

Norm was one of them.norman-wisdom-2-765x510

He wasn’t actually there at the time of the incident I described. He was nearby though. He was in a local hospital having soothing balms administered to his burnt buttocks by a 25 stone male Welsh nurse who wanted him to wear a sheep skin for some reason. Anyway, how did Norm end up there? As I’ve said before Norm was a tad accident prone and we were 17 or 18 years old at the time. At that age we were pretty much like 17 year olds everywhere. We were gross.fart-meme

We regularly had burping and farting competitions. We would gulp down vast quantities of coke and try to belch the longest sentence possible. I think I once managed “forty fousand feathers on a frushes froat” while belching.homer-simpson-and-fire-belching

To us, this was the funniest thing ever. We would try and outdo each other with the loudest or the longest or the most disgusting fart ever.  Le Petomane had nothing on us. So, did Norm end up in hospital from blow back when he tried to light one of his farts?lightingfarts1

Nope. Lighting farts is bloody dangerous and the grossest thing ever so as 17 year olds we had it down to a fine art.lightingfarts3

No. Norm managed it while playing volleyball! What a dipstick!

If the surf wasn’t too good then we would organise a game of beach volleyball. We would invite some of the young ladies sunbathing on the beach to join us. It didn’t matter that we didn’t have a volleyball net. We had imagination.fl-beach-volleyball-lauderdale-0525h

Admittedly 99.8753% of our imagination was devoted to picturing naked ladies in our smutty little minds but having girls playing meant that, with all those puppies bouncing about we were able, with the aid of a Tic Tac, to imagine the volleyball net more easily.1795705_654136671289369_726465714_n

During the course of one match, Norm jumped for a ball, fell over onto his arse and a huge plume of pale blue smoke erupted from his backside. Without exception we all thought,

“Oh no. Norms done a visible fart. We’ll never match that.”

Then, without exception, we rushed over to him, picked him up and threw him in the sea. He was on fire!lighting-farts

When Norm had fallen on his arse he had ignited a box of matches in his back pocket. He suffered 3rd degree burns to his right buttock and spent the rest of the week avoiding his new best friend the nurse and sitting on a rubber ring until the burns started to heal.

Norms new best friend

Norms new best friend

Finally, I’d just like to apologise. I follow a number of blogs and I often click on the “like” button if I like a post and I regularly make a comment. Sometimes, that comment will be “liked” by someone and, out of curiosity, I will click on it to find out who it was. Often, I do this using my phone. My phone screen is cracked. My phone has a tiddly little key pad. My fingers are like sausages. So I often accidentally “like” my own comment. It’s just I can’t always see where to prod so I just prod and end up feeling foolish. So don’t worry peeps I’m not so far up my own arse I’m inside out, I’m just a plonker.

Have a great day.

More Dick

Friends 2

So why do my mates and colleagues have nick names? Mainly it’s because we are a group of infantile adults! Plus, to a degree, it allows us to take the mick. For instance, another one of my friends was in the Royal Navy so we call him “Stains”. I’m sure you can work it out especially if you remember Captain Pugwash.

“Banzai”, as I’ve mentioned before, is not Japanese. In fact, he is a young Pakistani guy. His nick name arises from his self-confessed habit of at least twice a day spending anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour sitting on the toilet.young adult man sitting on toilet

How anyone can spend so much time sitting on the khazi squeezing their head is completely beyond me. However, Banzai does and he seems to be quite pleased with himself. Although we have no direct evidence of it, we reckon that by spending that amount of time sitting on the bog he must have an arsehole like a Japanese flag so rather than say, “Oi. Bumhole like a Japanese flag.”, we decided to call him Banzai.

Bumhead Banzai

Bumhead Banzai

As I said at the beginning – a bunch of puerile adolescents.

Now Banzai does like to chat. If asked a question, he likes to give a full explanation that may not have anything to do with the subject. Certainly, given the chance he will go back to the nano second after the Big Bang when everything started to exist to ensure his story is complete in every respect. I once asked him how many people were in a building. Twenty five minutes later, I still didn’t know and I’m sure that at some stage during his lengthy discourse I nodded off. I was certainly a damned sight older when I eventually discovered the answer was “Five”. Or was it seven? Personally, I put his verbal diarrhoea down to the amount of time he spends alone in the toilet.

I hope you weren’t eating while reading this post. My apologies if I’ve put you off your scoff.

Have a great day.

More Dick




No. Not the TV series. Mates, chums, pals, buddies, colleagues. Call them what you will but people whose company you enjoy. My mates are important to me and I thought I would write about them and share stories and anecdotes with you.  I don’t know why some people become friends while others do not. I’ve never really thought about it. My friends are great bunch of people and over the coming weeks and months I will tell tales about some of them. All my mates have nick names that are used on a daily basis. Some, like Bunsen, Beaker, BUFF, Carl and Manny all look like well known characters or things. Some, like Banzai and Betty are, as you will discover, aptly named. Banzai isn’t Japanese and Betty is a bloke. To a great extent the use of nick names demonstrates what a bunch of juveniles we are.

They are a diverse bunch of people but they all have similar traits. Without exception they are cheerful and positive in their outlook towards life. They KNOW there is a silver lining to every cloud and they invariably find it. They see humour everywhere and are merciless piss takers. Although we are all civilians now, three of my buddies served in the British Armed Forces, my bestest best mate is a builder, a high diving coach and fluent in sign language. Another is a hairdresser, while another is a computer whizzkid with a Masters in Management Information Systems. One of my best friends died at the end of 2013 but I will include Waldorf or “H” in the stories. I hope you enjoy them.

My mate "H"  a.k.a "Waldorf"

My mate “H” a.k.a “Waldorf”

While I was searching for images to use in these stories I came across one that stirred some vague memories. It involved me, BUFF and “H”. We’d had a few beers and were enjoying some fat Cuban cigars BUFF had brought back from his recent holiday in Cuba. We were wankered and sitting in BUFFs hot tub drinking and puffing away. Poor old “H”, due to the combination of beer, cigars and the heat suddenly threw up in the hot tub and we all had to bail out pretty quick. Glad I didn’t have to clear that lot up! Anyway, just before we lapsed into a coma, we had a strange conversation. I don’t think it was the same as the one I’ve shown below but it was similar and the memory of it made me laugh. I hope you enjoy it too.304451_276930349084349_1837762705_n


My nickname? As you will find out in later posts about other things, it seems to be changing but for many years I have been called “G”. I have absolutely no idea why. Perhaps it’s because my mates thought I was always on the “spot”!

Have a great day

More Dick soonauto