I had a smell of it today when i was on Facebook looking at my friends list. Some of the people on there i have known for many years and went to school with, which brought the memories flooding back of the good old days where bullying, rascism and being a cock was cool and which also got me thinking about some other people i knew. Let me elaborate. My west indian mate Tom for one. As kids in the playground, we would gather round him and rub his tightly curled hair while shouting "Porridge, porridge". We also used to hit him if he said "Aks" instead of "Ask". Tom ended up serving 8 years for his part in a local Post Office armed blagging scam. Fat Richard. Back in the days when kids were fat because they were greedy pie munching fuckers. We would constantly rip the piss out of him for his size and the fact he had a tang of beef monster munch, urine and badly wiped bottom about him. I used to enjoy booting him up the arse and legging it. He's something huge in IT these days. (see what i did there?). Lee. He was from the council estate and there was something feral about him. He had a pungent smell only found in those sort of houses, was the first to get an ear ring and lost his virginity aged 8 or something to the estate bike. He always wore ankle swingers and had a crew cut. He also had dodgy teeth. I heard he died in a car crash. Ian. He was a fucking tool of the first order. He was always winding me up and because of this, was a frequent recipient of my violence. I bog washed the sod quite a few times, would steal his bag and lob it over the fence, break his pens and pencils, beat him relentlessly in rugby and i even put a rumour around that he was gay. God knows what he is up to now. Andrea. She was sexy and she smoked. She was also a bit of a slut. I remember she let me insert a couple of fingers in her behind the sports hall. It was like feeding a tic tac to a whale. My memory of this was moving my arm like a mad man pumping up his bike tyre while she had her legs parted and was smoking a fag with one hand, and holding on to my shoulder with the other. Even after washing my hands, people kept commenting on the whiff of fish in metalwork that afternoon. I loved school. I was the House Sports Captain and a Prefect and one of my duties was keeping an eye on the lower school gents toilet. I would search the young un's for fags and matches, but only take the matches. I would then charge them 10p for a light. If they had a moan, i would punch them. Those were the days when bullies were like Gripper Stebson, the Rugby matches always ended in a punch up, the girls were much more fun and you could offend people and get away with it. Happy days. Anyone else get these pangs?