rayge
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Post by rayge on Oct 8, 2021 17:46:55 GMT
When I was a pre-druggy stude, some goon attempted to fit me up for attempted murder. I didn't do it.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Oct 8, 2021 20:13:24 GMT
Before speculation takes the better of the opinion machine: What I did not do is file the accounts timely. Far too late actually. No tax dodging involved. My criminal record will say “did not file company records in time to the receiver” But now that I am a hardened criminal I am thinking of taking a few piercings in my brows, nose and maybe a pointy one on my chin. Do you guys have columns tattooed on your arms in prison? |
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Post by souphound on Oct 9, 2021 16:02:45 GMT
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Post by sloopjohnc on Oct 9, 2021 16:05:29 GMT
It is not a jail, but effectively detention is the same in essence. just be careful when you pick up the soap bar. On the streets of Valencia around men in lycra or speedos, especially. |
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Post by sloopjohnc on Oct 9, 2021 16:06:12 GMT
When I was a pre-druggy stude, some goon attempted to fit me up for attempted murder. I didn't do it. Surely, the statute of limitations has been exceeded so you can come clean with us. |
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rayge
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Post by rayge on Oct 9, 2021 17:17:20 GMT
When I was a pre-druggy stude, some goon attempted to fit me up for attempted murder. I didn't do it. Surely, the statute of limitations has been exceeded so you can come clean with us. It's utterly mundane, I'm afraid.I 'm sure you'll regret asking. I was only involved because I was the flatmate of the guy who was having a dumb feud/prank war with another pair of undergraduates we christened Fatman and Dobbin. Looking back, it was ill-advised, as both guys were subject to paranoia and were mentaly fragile, although of course I was a child at the time and didn't realize. Come to think of it, I may have a picture of them somewhere. Hang on a minute... There you go
Richard, Fatman and I - were sociologists. Dobbin was a scientist. We were all in our third year, coming up to finals. Richard had a posh background (major public school), while Fatman and I were from working class backgrounds, me in London, him in Cardiff. He and I were sort-of pals in the first two years, and he and Richard used to take the piss out of each other in a class war sort of way, but it was all fairly genial, until our third year when a femme fatale, let's call her M, turned up as a freshman. Dobbin fell for her like a ton of bricks, but she wasn't interested. M had a room in college, as did Fatman and Dobbin, while Richard and I shared a cottage out in the sticks with another Ray, who was a kleptomaniac ectomorph.
Then there was all sorts of nonsense about notes, and anonymous threats to various freshmen women, including M (I'm a BIT HAZY ON THIS BECAUSE IT WAS ALL PRE-DRUGS AND I WAS OCCUPIED ELSEWHERE - sorry caplocks accident - playing cards - brag and bridge, occasionally working and, from the beginning of 1969, falling in love for the first time), and Dobbin and Fatman took it upon themselves to go vigilante about things. I suspect Dobbin was the author of these threats, and wanted to manouever himself into her affections, but instead, she briefly dated me, and then, barely skipping a beat, moved on to Richard.
In the third year Richard and I were in the habit of staying in the college until after midnight playing cards and/or pinball and generaly hanging out in the common rooms, before Richard drove us back to Adisham in his sports car, and F and D occasionally turned up there (it's where the pic was taken, by Rob, who was a postgrad and very nifty bridge player) and joined in with the gossip. Some of this gossip related to the activities of the Other Ray, who, along with a guy we'll call Jim, who was actually vice-president of the students union and later went on to a distinguished career as an academic and vice-chancellor, was systematically stripping the university of audio-visual equipment and other fixtures and fittings, and taking a lot of the loot back to the cottage in Adisham, where he stashed it before fencing it. Dobbin assumed that Richard (who was doing the gossiping) and I (who knew little or nothing about it) were involved, and, pissed off that he was never getting anywhere with M, decided to go the police about it (although we knew nothing of this until much later), spinning a tale of what amounted to organized larceny on a grand scale.
In the meantime, Fatman and Richard were increasingly on the outs as spring and finals approached. The culmination of all that came when F & D were siting in the former's college room, just a few doors down from that of my school friend Keith, where I spent most of my down time in college that year: Keith was, and remained, friendly with Fatman, and always found Richard a bit snide and supercilious - which, in truth, he was. Anyway, Fatman was just about to turn on his table lamp, when Dobbin dramatically said 'Don't' and told him that the wiring looked funny. And, sure enough, he discovered that the metal table lamp had been rewired so the whole of it would apparently be live and deadly if turned on: and then one or both of them went to the Master of the College and said that Richard and I had done it, and we were summoned and made to account for ourselves.
Richard explained the feud, and pointed out that neither he nor I had any idea that a lamp could be rewired in this way, let alone had the skill to do it, while Dobbin was studying physics, and probably did. I suspect the Master believed us: it all fizzled out after that, anyway. Fatman had a nervous breakdown and didn't sit his finals: he was last heard of working as a driving inspector in Cardiff - which was a bit of a laugh, as he had acquired the soubriquet of 'Kerb-clipper' very early on his university career. Dobbin did sit his finals, but failed. NO idea what happened to him after. Richard went off to have a charmed life and now splits his time between the Outer Hebrides, where he owns and runs a guest house, and Florida, where his wife pilots a TV weather helicopter. Other Ray eventually got busted for nicking stuff, but he got by. Richard is still in tough with him .Jim got away with everything free and clear, the cunt.
And as a post-script, in 1970, when I was arrested for shoplifting, the police who interviewed me, on hearing my name, immediately connected me with all these other people, and metaphoricaly at least, rubbed their hands with glee that they'd finally broken the gang that never was...
Told you it was boring
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Post by Deleted on Oct 9, 2021 18:33:59 GMT
Is that Alan Bennett or David Hockney flicking the V ?
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Post by DarknessFish on Oct 9, 2021 18:45:54 GMT
I just assumed that Ray was innocent, because he wouldn't be so inept as to attempt murder, he'd definitely finish the job.
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Post by sloopjohnc on Oct 10, 2021 16:14:36 GMT
Surely, the statute of limitations has been exceeded so you can come clean with us. It's utterly mundane, I'm afraid.I 'm sure you'll regret asking. I was only involved because I was the flatmate of the guy who was having a dumb feud/prank war with another pair of undergraduates we christened Fatman and Dobbin. Looking back, it was ill-advised, as both guys were subject to paranoia and were mentaly fragile, although of course I was a child at the time and didn't realize. Come to think of it, I may have a picture of them somewhere. Hang on a minute... There you go
Richard, Fatman and I - were sociologists. Dobbin was a scientist. We were all in our third year, coming up to finals. Richard had a posh background (major public school), while Fatman and I were from working class backgrounds, me in London, him in Cardiff. He and I were sort-of pals in the first two years, and he and Richard used to take the piss out of each other in a class war sort of way, but it was all fairly genial, until our third year when a femme fatale, let's call her M, turned up as a freshman. Dobbin fell for her like a ton of bricks, but she wasn't interested. M had a room in college, as did Fatman and Dobbin, while Richard and I shared a cottage out in the sticks with another Ray, who was a kleptomaniac ectomorph.
Then there was all sorts of nonsense about notes, and anonymous threats to various freshmen women, including M (I'm a BIT HAZY ON THIS BECAUSE IT WAS ALL PRE-DRUGS AND I WAS OCCUPIED ELSEWHERE - sorry caplocks accident - playing cards - brag and bridge, occasionally working and, from the beginning of 1969, falling in love for the first time), and Dobbin and Fatman took it upon themselves to go vigilante about things. I suspect Dobbin was the author of these threats, and wanted to manouever himself into her affections, but instead, she briefly dated me, and then, barely skipping a beat, moved on to Richard.
In the third year Richard and I were in the habit of staying in the college until after midnight playing cards and/or pinball and generaly hanging out in the common rooms, before Richard drove us back to Adisham in his sports car, and F and D occasionally turned up there (it's where the pic was taken, by Rob, who was a postgrad and very nifty bridge player) and joined in with the gossip. Some of this gossip related to the activities of the Other Ray, who, along with a guy we'll call Jim, who was actually vice-president of the students union and later went on to a distinguished career as an academic and vice-chancellor, was systematically stripping the university of audio-visual equipment and other fixtures and fittings, and taking a lot of the loot back to the cottage in Adisham, where he stashed it before fencing it. Dobbin assumed that Richard (who was doing the gossiping) and I (who knew little or nothing about it) were involved, and, pissed off that he was never getting anywhere with M, decided to go the police about it (although we knew nothing of this until much later), spinning a tale of what amounted to organized larceny on a grand scale.
In the meantime, Fatman and Richard were increasingly on the outs as spring and finals approached. The culmination of all that came when F & D were siting in the former's college room, just a few doors down from that of my school friend Keith, where I spent most of my down time in college that year: Keith was, and remained, friendly with Fatman, and always found Richard a bit snide and supercilious - which, in truth, he was. Anyway, Fatman was just about to turn on his table lamp, when Dobbin dramatically said 'Don't' and told him that the wiring looked funny. And, sure enough, he discovered that the metal table lamp had been rewired so the whole of it would apparently be live and deadly if turned on: and then one or both of them went to the Master of the College and said that Richard and I had done it, and we were summoned and made to account for ourselves.
Richard explained the feud, and pointed out that neither he nor I had any idea that a lamp could be rewired in this way, let alone had the skill to do it, while Dobbin was studying physics, and probably did. I suspect the Master believed us: it all fizzled out after that, anyway. Fatman had a nervous breakdown and didn't sit his finals: he was last heard of working as a driving inspector in Cardiff - which was a bit of a laugh, as he had acquired the soubriquet of 'Kerb-clipper' very early on his university career. Dobbin did sit his finals, but failed. NO idea what happened to him after. Richard went off to have a charmed life and now splits his time between the Outer Hebrides, where he owns and runs a guest house, and Florida, where his wife pilots a TV weather helicopter. Other Ray eventually got busted for nicking stuff, but he got by. Richard is still in tough with him .Jim got away with everything free and clear, the cunt.
And as a post-script, in 1970, when I was arrested for shoplifting, the police who interviewed me, on hearing my name, immediately connected me with all these other people, and metaphoricaly at least, rubbed their hands with glee that they'd finally broken the gang that never was...
Told you it was boring
You had me at Fatman and Dobbin. |
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Post by sloopjohnc on Oct 10, 2021 16:15:28 GMT
I just assumed that Ray was innocent, because he wouldn't be so inept as to attempt murder, he'd definitely finish the job. Rayge, I'll message you about plane fare to Valencia and back. There's hashish in it for you. |
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Post by cousinlou on Oct 11, 2021 14:42:16 GMT
So, one fellon, one who shat himself laughing, one who doesn't like women when they live too far away and one who was falsely accused.
Life IS a riot huh??
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