Here we go...here we go. Writing.

Here we go...here we go,here we go.

Right then YOU lot.

Have no fear,I'm not going to attack,cajole,bully,name or shame you.
Unless you're out of order or challenge me!

Now first off...I'm an active member of France forums,well you know that already don't you.
I follow other bloggers,if I find them interesting,amusing or they tickle my fancy.

As one of them stated,Forums can sometimes have humourless members... “Right of Attila the Hun.” Types.

As another one stated... “Dodgy people.”

Well,lets be very clear here....I am sitting to the left of Attila...Am I dodgy...No,well I don't think so.

But there is one attribute which I absolutely detest,and that is ...wait for it...Bullying!
Wont have it...No,no,no.
YOU are reading this aren't you?

Bloody hell,I hear you say,dear reader.

Well why on earth would you say/feel that.

Imagine you are young,doesn't matter,lets say four or five. Your having a normal type of day,annoying your brothers and sisters. The house is a mess,you scavenge some grub,Dad's on the early shift...Mum's out,a normal day

BANG!

“Where's your bloody Mother?”

Now this is where a big brother comes in handy,well he has to answer,take the rap so to say.

“She's down the cafe,with uncle Bill.”

Whoa...Here's Johnny.

Off we go,this is fun,all of us..very angry cuckold man,scruffy,snotty nosed brats...the bloody clan,great spectacle for the neighbours...not so good for uncle bloody Bill.
I still can see and hear the pit boots striking the cobbles.
Oh dear oh dear,sparks are going to fly today...not Friday is it.
Anyway off we march,the Gallivans,Mrs Jones,old jock and Ted.
As we neared the “Cherry pie” I could feel the tension building...bloody great...a punch up...now there's a rare thing.
The glass door flew open,froth flew off the coffee,Elvis asked if I was lonely tonight.
Oh dear,you should of seen mams face.
Uncle Bill,didn't seem too aware...Dad soon put that right.
Weren't no quick response units in those days...done the deed boy,then don't expect no help,right.
Anyway a right old tear up ensued,bit of screaming,a tad of red stuff flying about,bunch of teddies shouting encouragement...dad didn't need no encouragement,he was off mate...full blown temper tantrum...well he had his standing in t'village see,no harm in that is there.
Well you should of seen the look on me brothers face,when uncle Bill sailed through the cafe front window...SUPER...I knew straight away I'd love cowboy films,saloon fights...I was hooked.
Couldn't see Mam,she was under the table some where.
I never understood folk, when they pull a right stroke and then get all shook up... “Do the deed,pay the price.” Easy rule to follow,no?
Must have affected us nippers though,big brothers always been a player,must be in the blood,me I love a scrap,must be in the blood eh.

Anyway,I digress.
The “Cherry pie” was a right ta do,manager said we was banned.
Uncle Bill got one last taste of Dads boot,alright I'll be honest,we all had a little dig...well you would,wouldn't you.

Off we go. Dad said “come on,lets get some grub eh” Yeah we all chanted...chippie dad,yeah lets go.
Bloody hell,when I think back...good old days,eh.

“Hello Don,finished early is it.”
That was auntie Jackie,we all seem to be related,cousins,family...oh well.
We had our chips,so to speak. Jackie always give us extra,fat Mick the owner never said owt.
When we got home Dad sent us to bed he looked tired,Mam never come home that night...fact is I didn't see her for another fourteen years,didn't bother me...bothered me brother though...big time.
Told me uncle Bill and his brothers came round,I didn't hear em.
I remember the train journey up to Kent,though.
Puffing through those valleys,head out the window,smoke streaming down train...Dad sat in corner...didn't say much.


I'll continue my boyhood later.

Oh yeah if any of you right of Attila want to attack....ask yourself...is it worth it...is it real...or a story?

Bye bye.

Written by Kevin Gallivan,and has been registered as such.