In the short warm summer of '75 I was an unpleasant teenage layabout. A bunch of us used to wander off out of the suburbs into the nearby countryside, which was convieniently well stocked with pubs. On the way back we would feel the urge to clear out excess alcohol, usually while walking along a canal just by a railway bridge. We found a plastic bucket so, we pissed/puked and once crapped into this bucket. By the middle of August this receptacle was getting pretty rank. We decided it had to be jettisoned. Now as luck would have it, the railway also crossed a
busy main road as well as the canal. What would be fun ? Yes, hurling the bucket and its contents onto the head of some smart-arse driving an open-top sports car !

So one hot evening, fuelled with Ansells bitter we set off on our quest, to soak some unsuspecting smoothie in rancid old piss, sick and some turds thrown in for good measure. We climbed up onto the bridge and waited, then with a throaty roar along came our prey. My freind looked over the other side and shouted 'go' just when the car went under his side of the bridge, and I tipped up the bucket.
A direct hit ! The driver piled on the brakes, and we ran into some bushes at the side of the bridge and watched, keeping low. The mullet-haired twit stood up and waved his arms about, looked all round hime and drove off. We had half a bucket left. along came another open-top sports car so without further ado I threw bucket and contents scoring a resoundind direct hit. Right on the passenger seat ! A police car was coming in the opposite direction and slowing, so we legged it, finding running and chocking with laughter fairly difficult !
See part two of things I did when I was not quite as mature as I think I am now for further installments of teenage stupidity, back int he days of
pre-punk/skinheads and even punk. Long before football became a boring mainstream activity, when football fans could look forward to a belly full
of beer and a fight at every away game !
Hurrah !