I turned 17 in the spring of 1982. That year, my girlfriend's family

took a cottage at Herne Bay for the whole summer. She went to live there for the summer holidays, with her parents visiting at weekends, so during the week we shacked up and played mummies and daddies. It was a glorious summer; we lay together in the post-coital glow listening to the waves break on the pebble beach outside accompanied by Irene Cara (on cassette, naturally.)

How can Herne Bay and the soundtrack from the Kids From Fame evoke such romantic memories? :sigh:

Oh youth! Youth! Why must your memory mock and torture us?

Do you have any romantic memories involving odd places, dubious music or fat ugly women?

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Originally Posted by Sir C

took a cottage at Herne Bay for the whole summer. She went to live there for the summer holidays, with her parents visiting at weekends, so during the week we shacked up and played mummies and daddies. It was a glorious summer; we lay together in the post-coital glow listening to the waves break on the pebble beach outside accompanied by Irene Cara (on cassette, naturally.)

How can Herne Bay and the soundtrack from the Kids From Fame evoke such romantic memories? :sigh:

Oh youth! Youth! Why must your memory mock and torture us?

Do you have any romantic memories involving odd places, dubious music or fat ugly women?

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Have you ever been to Herne Bay recently?
There is nothing left.

Yer mum ...(thanks for the tap in )

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Originally Posted by Pat Vegas

Have you ever been to Herne Bay recently?
There is nothing left.

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I have not. What do you mean, there is nothing left? (There wasn't all that much there to start with).

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Originally Posted by Herbette Chapman - aged 15

Yer mum ...(thanks for the tap in )

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You've never seen a real naked ladygirl, have you h?

It's nice. You'd like it.

The great Herne Bay Tsunami of '82!

I expect you were too busy feverishly rimming that girl to notice.

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Originally Posted by Sir C

I have not. What do you mean, there is nothing left? (There wasn't all that much there to start with).

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There are hardly any shops.

As you say not much there but there really isn't much left.

I also used to go there when I was 17. There was an ace computer game shop and a sort of 2nd hand type place.
Woolworths etc.

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Originally Posted by Herbette Chapman - aged 15

The great Herne Bay Tsunami of '82!

I expect you were too busy feverishly rimming that girl to notice.

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She had great big floppy cheerful titties, h. That much I do remember.

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Originally Posted by Pat Vegas

There are hardly any shops.

As you say not much there but there really isn't much left.

I also used to go there when I was 17. There was an ace computer game shop and a sort of 2nd hand type place.
Woolworths etc.

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You used to go there when you were 17 as well? That's amazing, f! We might have bumped into each other!

Small world indeed.

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Originally Posted by Sir C

took a cottage at Herne Bay for the whole summer. She went to live there for the summer holidays, with her parents visiting at weekends, so during the week we shacked up and played mummies and daddies. It was a glorious summer; we lay together in the post-coital glow listening to the waves break on the pebble beach outside accompanied by Irene Cara (on cassette, naturally.)

How can Herne Bay and the soundtrack from the Kids From Fame evoke such romantic memories? :sigh:

Oh youth! Youth! Why must your memory mock and torture us?

Do you have any romantic memories involving odd places, dubious music or fat ugly women?

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September '92, Santander. Nigel Clough :love:

David White was the fat, ugly bird. Horrid.

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Originally Posted by Sir C

You used to go there when you were 17 as well? That's amazing, f! We might have bumped into each other!

Small world indeed.

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I am not good at maths though it's quite possible.
although I was born in 1982 :sherlock: :daddy: :hug:

Odd isn't it C. There is a certain kind of rack on a woman that can only be referred to as "titties". Some women have tits, some have boobs, some have top b0llocks but when you see a pair of titties you knows dey's titties

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Originally Posted by redgunamo

September '92, Santander. Nigel Clough :love:

David White was the fat, ugly bird. Horrid.

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You paint quite the vivid picture, r.

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Originally Posted by Sir C

took a cottage at Herne Bay for the whole summer. She went to live there for the summer holidays, with her parents visiting at weekends, so during the week we shacked up and played mummies and daddies. It was a glorious summer; we lay together in the post-coital glow listening to the waves break on the pebble beach outside accompanied by Irene Cara (on cassette, naturally.)

How can Herne Bay and the soundtrack from the Kids From Fame evoke such romantic memories? :sigh:

Oh youth! Youth! Why must your memory mock and torture us?

Do you have any romantic memories involving odd places, dubious music or fat ugly women?

---

In the summer of 1990 I was seeing a lovely young lady from Hadley Wood. ****ing loaded she was and her parents would swan around Italy for weeks at a time over the summer leaving a huge house empty.

I can remember driving her father’s MG, taking some horribly strong acid and listening to a lot of Leonard Cohen.

Similar story to yours but with much better music.

I think that was also the first and last time I tried a pizza with chicken on it.

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Originally Posted by Herbette Chapman - aged 15

Odd isn't it C. There is a certain kind of rack on a woman that can only be referred to as "titties". Some women have tits, some have boobs, some have top b0llocks but when you see a pair of titties you knows dey's titties

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:nod: These had a certain satisfying heft to them. At the time I was somewhat disappointed by their tendency to face point downwards, and for years after favoured the pert, firm boob, but in retrospect I can appreciate how lucky I was to learn to deal with such fun bags at such a young age.

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Originally Posted by Peter

In the summer of 1990 I was seeing a lovely young lady from Hadley Wood. ****ing loaded she was and her parents would swan around Italy for weeks at a time over the summer leaving a huge house empty.

I can remember driving her father’s MG, taking some horribly strong acid and listening to a lot of Leonard Cohen.

Similar story to yours but with much better music.

I think that was also the first and last time I tried a pizza with chicken on it.

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That's beautiful p. Although I'm worried that Leonard put a massive fúcking downer on the whole experience.

It was an MG Metro, wasn't it? :-(

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Originally Posted by Sir C

took a cottage at Herne Bay for the whole summer. She went to live there for the summer holidays, with her parents visiting at weekends, so during the week we shacked up and played mummies and daddies. It was a glorious summer; we lay together in the post-coital glow listening to the waves break on the pebble beach outside accompanied by Irene Cara (on cassette, naturally.)

How can Herne Bay and the soundtrack from the Kids From Fame evoke such romantic memories? :sigh:

Oh youth! Youth! Why must your memory mock and torture us?

Do you have any romantic memories involving odd places, dubious music or fat ugly women?

---

A sunny day, a girl named Paula, Knaresborough, a rowing boat and a flotilla of Morris Men. The soundtrack was The Stone Roses. We dropped acid later.

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Originally Posted by Sir C

took a cottage at Herne Bay for the whole summer. She went to live there for the summer holidays, with her parents visiting at weekends, so during the week we shacked up and played mummies and daddies. It was a glorious summer; we lay together in the post-coital glow listening to the waves break on the pebble beach outside accompanied by Irene Cara (on cassette, naturally.)

How can Herne Bay and the soundtrack from the Kids From Fame evoke such romantic memories? :sigh:

Oh youth! Youth! Why must your memory mock and torture us?

Do you have any romantic memories involving odd places, dubious music or fat ugly women?

---

I won't go into details but I sealed the deal during the countdown of New years eve 1999

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Originally Posted by Pat Vegas

I won't go into details but I sealed the deal during the countdown of New years eve 1999

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What? Between the countdown starting and finishing? That's impressively quick work. f. But you were young, I suppose.

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Originally Posted by Sir C

You used to go there when you were 17 as well? That's amazing, f! We might have bumped into each other!

Small world indeed.

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pv had great big floppy tits then

Pendulousity C. That's teh characteristic we require. great big pendulous, swinging titties like Nigella's

oh Nigella, sweet Nigella,
My head spins like a propeller
Dreaming of your titties naked and unfurled.
They come in the room before ya
They're the reason I adore ya
They're the finest Bristol Citys in the world

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Originally Posted by Burney

A sunny day, a girl named Paula, Knaresborough, a rowing boat and a flotilla of Morris Men. The soundtrack was The Stone Roses. We dropped acid later.

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Always a splended idea at the time.

And then a shít idea about 45 minutes later.

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Originally Posted by Pokster

pv had great big floppy tits then

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Patrick Vieira?

:hehe: I was 17.
that number keeps coming up and was in Glasgow and went out with this girl for a few days sightseeing we had a stroll about then went to the B&B then went out again after it was new years. it was weird with all these scots people shaking my hands and wishing me a happy new year. my London ways didn't like it.

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Originally Posted by Burney

A sunny day, a girl named Paula, Knaresborough, a rowing boat and a flotilla of Morris Men. The soundtrack was The Stone Roses. We dropped acid later.

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Knaresborough!!!! How dare you deface my lovely town.... 1982 Girl called Carol, sitting in a shed by the river in Knaresborough...sigh

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Originally Posted by Burney

A sunny day, a girl named Paula, Knaresborough, a rowing boat and a flotilla of Morris Men. The soundtrack was The Stone Roses. We dropped acid later.

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All that's missing is a book of poetry stained with the butter drips from crumpets.

Ah, Paula from Knaresborough. I once boned a chick from Yorkshire. I met her in a bar through a mutual acquaintance. I knew she was the girl for me that night because she was wearing a smock with stains down the front, and when I asked if she wanted a drink she replied, "Aye, I'll 'ave a pint o' bitter but first Ah need a slash." :love:

I grew up (or, in reality, failed to) on the Isle of Wight and was also 17 in the Summer of '82. All summers were very similar.

Strange encounters in strange places with strange grockles. All the music was ****e in the 80s.

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Originally Posted by SWv2

Always a splended idea at the time.

And then a shít idea about 45 minutes later.

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I know, the blisters after rowing those boats in Knaresborough was never good

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Originally Posted by Herbette Chapman - aged 15

Pendulousity C. That's teh characteristic we require. great big pendulous, swinging titties like Nigella's

oh Nigella, sweet Nigella,
My head spins like a propeller
Dreaming of your titties naked and unfurled.
They come in the room before ya
They're the reason I adore ya
They're the finest Bristol Citys in the world

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Yes. Except for that Greek bird who had perfect pendulosity but coarse hairs growing from the areolae. They were like strands of wire wool. :-(

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Originally Posted by SWv2

Always a splended idea at the time.

And then a shít idea about 45 minutes later.

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No, it was one of those really good, colour-laden ones. I mean we were obviously still awake and talking shïte at 4am, but we didn't have to be anywhere and we had the place to ourselves.

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Originally Posted by The Insider

I grew up (or, in reality, failed to) on the Isle of Wight and was also 17 in the Summer of '82. All summers were very similar.

Strange encounters in strange places with strange grockles. All the music was ****e in the 80s.

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My word! What music do you like then?

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Originally Posted by Sir C

All that's missing is a book of poetry stained with the butter drips from crumpets.

Ah, Paula from Knaresborough. I once boned a chick from Yorkshire. I met her in a bar through a mutual acquaintance. I knew she was the girl for me that night because she was wearing a smock with stains down the front, and when I asked if she wanted a drink she replied, "Aye, I'll 'ave a pint o' bitter but first Ah need a slash." :love:

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You are my dad and I want all my brthday presents you never gave me :cry:

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Originally Posted by Sir C

All that's missing is a book of poetry stained with the butter drips from crumpets.

Ah, Paula from Knaresborough. I once boned a chick from Yorkshire. I met her in a bar through a mutual acquaintance. I knew she was the girl for me that night because she was wearing a smock with stains down the front, and when I asked if she wanted a drink she replied, "Aye, I'll 'ave a pint o' bitter but first Ah need a slash." :love:

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:hehe: I met a girl in York, then she said we are going to the pub later. I went to the pub oh by the way this is my boyfriend. he looked furious the whole time. It was one of those pubs that has a carpark to set the scene.

She then made him give me a lift back to the hotel. he then drove her back home and waited outside her house to prevent her from sneaking back to the hotel to see me.

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Originally Posted by The Insider

I grew up (or, in reality, failed to) on the Isle of Wight and was also 17 in the Summer of '82. All summers were very similar.

Strange encounters in strange places with strange grockles. All the music was ****e in the 80s.

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You are forgetting Spandau Ballet, of course.

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Originally Posted by Sir C

Yes. Except for that Greek bird who had perfect pendulosity but coarse hairs growing from the areolae. They were like strands of wire wool. :-(

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Those hairs were not there. Somebody edited her tits.

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Originally Posted by Sir C

All that's missing is a book of poetry stained with the butter drips from crumpets.

Ah, Paula from Knaresborough. I once boned a chick from Yorkshire. I met her in a bar through a mutual acquaintance. I knew she was the girl for me that night because she was wearing a smock with stains down the front, and when I asked if she wanted a drink she replied, "Aye, I'll 'ave a pint o' bitter but first Ah need a slash." :love:

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She wasn't from Knaresborough. She was from Ipswich and going out with someone else at Leeds, hence our need to escape to Knaresborough to have a proper dirty weekend.

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Originally Posted by Sir C

Yes. Except for that Greek bird who had perfect pendulosity but coarse hairs growing from the areolae. They were like strands of wire wool. :-(

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I initially read that as 'arsehole', which made it even more disturbing if anything.

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Originally Posted by Burney

Patrick Vieira?

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He is carrying a bit of timber now tbh. He might be sporting mantits.

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Originally Posted by Burney

She wasn't from Knaresborough. She was from Ipswich and going out with someone else at Leeds, hence our need to escape to Knaresborough to have a proper dirty weekend.

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Not the natural choice of places to escape to.....

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Originally Posted by Sir C

That's beautiful p. Although I'm worried that Leonard put a massive fúcking downer on the whole experience.

It was an MG Metro, wasn't it? :-(

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Any man that can listen to Dance Me To The End of Love and not feel uplifted has a ****ing problem. It is probably the most joyous and hope-filled song ever written about the holocaust.

It was a very small, sporty kind of thing in green. Remarkably slow and uncomfortable.