Disturbing things you did as a child?

Tony EH

We used to taunt this guy who was terribly burnt in a fire when he was younger. He grew up very scarred.

We were about 5 years old and he would have been in his late teens or so.

We would call him monster and run away and he'd give chase. I'm sure he was playing along with us kids and I hope he knew that we weren't really sure of the possible consequences of what we were doing and I really hope that our childish nastiness didn't have too much of an affect on him.

But, I would dearly love to go back and say sorry to that guy.

Kimbot

I had a dart board attached to the back of my bedroom door which i shared with 2 brothers.

I was walking in the room one day and put my hand inside the door first to make sure they werent throwing darts, I heard my little brother laughing and next thing I felt my hand slam against the door, I walked in and a dart had gone through the webbing between my fingers and stuck it to the board. In a fit of rage I took all darts out of the board and launched them at him, he dodged them all bar the last one which ended up stuck in his arse while he ran down the stairs crying with it hanging out of him.

HomelessMidge

Once tried to burn down my sisters playhouse. While she was still in it.

Also managed to burn down a building that was about 200-300 years old. That was pretty stupid! It was abandoned but was still salvageable, its since been condemned!

jaffusmax

I got a wee girl a nighbour who was 7 at the time, same as me, to stand beside a muddy puddle in her communion dress as I threw a breeze block into it. I did the same at the beach with a girl who stood beside a huge jellyfish.

I was a right little ****! Im a pacifist now!......I think?

Plazaman

jaffusmax wrote: »

Got worms from the garden using fairy liquid to make them come up, then hung 20 of them to the washing line with clothes pegs and watched the birds eat them (

I did not know that. And who says AH isn't educational.

When I was about 6, our cat was sitting on the doorstep sunning herself. I let swing with the foot and booted her and she landed about 10 feet away. She immediately turned ran back and jumped up on me. I was wearing shorts at the time and got quite the scraping off her. Vengeful cats are mean.

Electric Sheep

Tony EH wrote: »

We used to taunt this guy who was terribly burnt in a fire when he was younger. He grew up very scared.

We were about 5 years old and he would have been in his late teens or so.

We would call him monster and run away and he'd give chase. I'm sure he was playing along with us kids and I hope he knew that we weren't really sure of the possible consequences of what we were doing and I really hope that our childish nastiness didn't have too much of an affect on him.

But, I would dearly love to go back and say sorry to that guy.

Why don't you?

Tony EH

I wouldn't even know where he was living now.

I kinda mean back in time, rather than a physical place.

Electric Sheep

Tony EH wrote: »

I wouldn't even know where he was living now.

I kinda mean back in time, rather than a physical place.

I really have to wonder - if you were five, where were your parents when you were doing that? It just seems so horrible to me.

curlzy

Stole my granny's cigerettes, stole money from my mam's purse.....for cigerettes, smoked cigerettes in school toilets. I'm really glad I don't smoke anymore.

Tony EH

Electric Sheep wrote: »

I really have to wonder - if you were five, where were your parents when you were doing that? It just seems so horrible to me.

In those days, kids of 5 were out on the street playing, largely without parental supervision for the most part.

It was my mother who told me what had happened to the boy and that we obviously shouldn't do it.

At 5, it was difficult for me to understand what a person who was burnt in a fire would look like and as kids we just enjoyed the chase. Besides, my head would have been full of 'Star Wars' and not the effects of a fire upon the human body.

As kids, we just though there was an oddness to this poor guy and the chant of monster was what got us an exciting chase. I do recall that we liked the guy and I distinctly remember talking to him. But, we also enjoyed our chasing.

There's an underlying, banal, level of casual cruelty that exists among children, even good children, that often they're completely unaware of.

SoapMcTavish

Remember the weapons ? Early 80's, strolling around the neighborhood with bowie knives, butterfly knives, crossbows, black widow sling, throwing stars and always, always lighter fluid or petrol .. cos ya never know when something will need to be ignited !

snaphook

In the Bathroom. when I was 4, I was sitting on the toilet doing a number two.
I put my hand between my legs, caught a log and proceeded to smear it all over WHITE wallpaper.


Why? Because I wanted to see what it would look like

TeddyTedson

When I was very young I would always try and crash while my Dad was driving by grabbing the wheel and trying to veer it off the road or into traffic.
I have absolutely no idea why I would do this but I remember once trying a different approach and pulled up the handbrake just before we had got home and the car naturally spun on the road and it was quite terrifying. When we stopped and my Dad had time to process what had happened he naturally went to give me a smack but just looked at me and began to burst out laughing.

uch

When we were about 12 or 13 we somehow managed to come across a hoard of elastic bands, easily 15000 - 20000, so we decided to make the biggest catapult we could, so we platted together as many elastics as we could, you could moor a decent size Ferry with what we made, anyway we cut down a medium sized tree as the Catapult frame (easily 6 -7 feet high, about the thickness of you thigh, for a test run we talked on of our mates little Brothers to take a test drive, the thing flung him about 15 feet in the air and about 40 feet down the field we were in. We were blessed that the Grass was fairly long and cushioned his fall a bit so no real damage done physically. We really were dangerous fukers

AlanS181824

ppcperson wrote: »

...Not to be a pedantic pat but unless they were in the states the emergency number is 999. I have come across situations where people have been caught out with this and thats not good!

I used to trap hundreds of lady birds in a hollow childs shovel that I had (you could pull off the handle and it was basically just a pipe then). I genuinely thought I was making their lives better by putting them into my ladybird zoo. It took me months to realise I had a lot of dead ladybirds to deal with.

There was actually a good few mistakes I made in my original post but I didn't really want to edit it as it'd kinda seem like I was charging details.

On my tablet is I type 999 it changes to 911, I think it's because I've a contact saved as it.

Sorry about that! :rolleyes:

Squaredude

The day my father took myself and my younger brother to mass and decided to sit up the front.My brother (who was only 4 or 5 at the time) wasn't too impressed by what the priest had to say and decided to let him know it by roaring "Shut Up! will you ever shut up".I nearly got sick from laughing,the two altar boys up front wern't holding up too well either.Then the choir started up which my brother took as his cue to also start singing,only he wasn't singing amazing grace ,he decided to sing 'ole! ole! ole!' as loud as possible.As soon as communion time came round my father grabbed the two of us and hauled us down the aisle and out the door.Myself and my father were in stitches for a good 20 minutes after it,my brother had no idea what was so funny.

Maximus Alexander

I have a bad relationship with wasps. I got stung once when I was, I guess, about 7 or 8. We had a bush out the back garden that, for whatever reason, drew tons of wasps. So I got two planks of wood and stood by the bush for ages just smashing wasps between the two planks of wood.

They came back for round two, years later, when they set up a hive in the eaves near my bedroom window. There must have been a crack in the wall somewhere, because for a whole summer I would wake up every morning with the bedroom window covered in wasps trying desperately to escape. The nightmarish horror of it.

I discovered that the contents of an aerosol can (can't remember what it was) would kill them, albeit slowly, so each morning I would get up and spray liberally, murdering them by the dozen. Eventually they were all dead.

fyfe79

Interesting thread that makes me remember what a dislikable kid I must have been!

Fire - used to steal matches and try to set heyfields on fire. I remember burning my fingers one time and trying to hide it. I had friends that would pour petrol on their own roof and fire flaming arrows at it.
Theft - quite often would steal money from my mothers purse. Eventually was caught and tried to blame my brother.
Destruction - got a go-kart one christmas and I loved it. I inexplicably remember smashing it in half with a hammer.
Aggression - I remember biting my cousins finger to the point of blood - no idea why.
Stupidity - my father had a 6 foot deep mechanics pit in the garage that was boarded up, one day my brother was jumping on a discarded mattress that was nearby and bounced into the pit backwards, as I had taken all the boards up. He was lucky he wasn't killed. I got some hiding that day.

All that behaviour was before the age of 10 or so, I wouldn't even dream of doing anything like that now. Although, I think theft was the last one I stopped because I recall robbing from shops (small things like chocolate etc) up to the age of about 14/15.

Sometimes it's easy to see bad behaviour in neighbours kids now and think they're evil incarnate, but maybe they won't grow up that bad after all!

KH25

Remembered another one.

My nanny used to take me to Saturday evening mass when I was around 5 or 6. Naturally, I hated having to sit still for ages. Well one day I got out of the pew and went wandering. My nanny went to get me but the priest told her to leave me be that it was fine.

During my wander I happened upon a little wheel that could be turned. So over the next 10 minutes or so I would twist it a little bit and then head back to my seat. This went on until the last time I twisted it when there was an almighty bang in the church. Turns out the wheel belonged to the back door of one of the stations were you put in money and lit a candle. My nanny came running down to find me confused and stuck under a load of unlit candles.

Needless to say I was never taken to mass again

boro3000

My dad used to travel to London quite a bit for work in the 1990's. Occasionally he would bring us back small bits and pieces as gifts. One such place he used to go was Hamleys. One trip he bought a model rocket that you assembly yourself and add fuel to launch it in the air. For whatever reason it remained half assembled never finished in my grandparents house...with all this unused model rocket fuel lying around the place. I always loved fireworks bangers etc. So since it was coming up to Halloween I decided that I would take some of this fuel and use the contents to make what some of you will remember as a (genie) kinda like when you light a full box of matches for the flame effect.
Anyway emptied this out on the back wall....put a match to it and literally blew the face off myself.

Eyebrows-Gone
Eyelids-Gone
Fringe-Gone
Forehead-Layer of skin gone.
Nostrils burt/Nostril hair gone
Thumb/Index Finger burnt.

Remember running out to the driveway to take a look at the damage in the car wing mirror which at first did not seem so bad. A few minutes later I was in agony. Ran into my mum who caked my face in Flamazine . Never went near bangers fireworks or anything like that after. Lesson learned

wp_rathead

"WWF: Don't try this at home"
Me hole!

At friends house , which was a bungaloe. Stack 3 mattress in garden. Get ladder. Jump off roof... friend does it - is awesome. I do it - I land on the mattress grand but I didnt think of the subsequent bounce. I go flying onto grass and dislocate my wrist

DazMarz

Coca-Cola, Skittles, any colour other than the white Jelly Babies, etc. (basically anything with prodigious amounts of sugar/caffeine) turned me into a demon child when I was younger, apparently. This, of course, turned Coca Cola into a "forbidden fruit" for me. I would do anything to get my hands on it and drink it. Drinking a 2 litre bottle of it to myself when I was about 5 turned me into Bart Simpson when he was swinging naked from the clothesline, or Maggie when she got the coffee ice-cream. Hyper and a hellraiser.

I did get into a fight when I was about 11. It was a proper fight with a guy who was one of my best friends in school. I got the upper hand. I got him in a headlock and just held on, squeezing as tight as I could. Apparently, his face was turning blue/purple before I stopped. We both got in shíte with the school and got detention and "suspension" (being forced to stand in a small area at lunch break and not have fun). Turns out it backfired for the teachers. Myself and my friend apologised and hugged it out, and we had great craic in detention and suspension. The teachers used to roar at us that we weren't supposed to be having fun, but that just made us enjoy it all the more.

When I was about 10, myself and the older cousins (I was led astray; that's my story and I'm sticking to it!) pinched a bottle of brandy at Christmas. We had a few slugs each (they were aged about 14, 16 and 17, respectively). Of course, we were all PISSED. Then the panic struck, never mind about being drunk. We could try to hide that. But what about the whiff of the booze. While the rest of them panicked, I legged it to the kitchen and ate 2 jars of garlic pickles. So now I reeked of garlic, onions and vinegar. Didn't puke either.

I have to say, I always... ALWAYS... got into trouble as a kid. With my family. I was the youngest of the family and was always blamed (even if it wasn't my fault). I remember once, distinctly, getting stabbed in the arm with the pen of an Etch-A-Sketch. The pain of it was unreal. A couple of days later, there was a big family meeting. Of course, never mind me getting stabbed in the fúcking arm. The bigger issue was that I had (actually, surprisingly, I didn't do it) screamed a swear word. Never mind that I had a big, glaring bruise/cut on my arm. I was reduced to tears as accusations were slung. I was 8 years fúcking old and was intimidated to tears by both teenage and adult relations. Christ.

A broken keyboard for a computer. My fault. Even though the thing wasn't broken and even though I had done fúcking nothing to it.

I'm still a bit bitter to this day about it, as you can probably tell. I was always singled out as a "troublemaker", even though I was basically a good kid. Sure, I got up to some shít, but nothing major. I actually think the bollocks that I had to put up with as a kid has always spurred me on to get to the next level, to make sure I'm a better person. Maybe I should be thanking the eejits for being so rough on me as a kid, because I don't think I'd be where I am today were it not for that!

sligojoek

DazMarz wrote: »

Coca-Cola, Skittles, any colour other than the white Jelly Babies, etc. (basically anything with prodigious amounts of sugar/caffeine) turned me into a demon child when I was younger, apparently. This, of course, turned Coca Cola into a "forbidden fruit" for me. I would do anything to get my hands on it and drink it. Drinking a 2 litre bottle of it to myself when I was about 5 turned me into Bart Simpson when he was swinging naked from the clothesline, or Maggie when she got the coffee ice-cream. Hyper and a hellraiser.

I did get into a fight when I was about 11. It was a proper fight with a guy who was one of my best friends in school. I got the upper hand. I got him in a headlock and just held on, squeezing as tight as I could. Apparently, his face was turning blue/purple before I stopped. We both got in shíte with the school and got detention and "suspension" (being forced to stand in a small area at lunch break and not have fun). Turns out it backfired for the teachers. Myself and my friend apologised and hugged it out, and we had great craic in detention and suspension. The teachers used to roar at us that we weren't supposed to be having fun, but that just made us enjoy it all the more.

When I was about 10, myself and the older cousins (I was led astray; that's my story and I'm sticking to it!) pinched a bottle of brandy at Christmas. We had a few slugs each (they were aged about 14, 16 and 17, respectively). Of course, we were all PISSED. Then the panic struck, never mind about being drunk. We could try to hide that. But what about the whiff of the booze. While the rest of them panicked, I legged it to the kitchen and ate 2 jars of garlic pickles. So now I reeked of garlic, onions and vinegar. Didn't puke either.

I have to say, I always... ALWAYS... got into trouble as a kid. With my family. I was the youngest of the family and was always blamed (even if it wasn't my fault). I remember once, distinctly, getting stabbed in the arm with the pen of an Etch-A-Sketch. The pain of it was unreal. A couple of days later, there was a big family meeting. Of course, never mind me getting stabbed in the fúcking arm. The bigger issue was that I had (actually, surprisingly, I didn't do it) screamed a swear word. Never mind that I had a big, glaring bruise/cut on my arm. I was reduced to tears as accusations were slung. I was 8 years fúcking old and was intimidated to tears by both teenage and adult relations. Christ.

A broken keyboard for a computer. My fault. Even though the thing wasn't broken and even though I had done fúcking nothing to it.

I'm still a bit bitter to this day about it, as you can probably tell. I was always singled out as a "troublemaker", even though I was basically a good kid. Sure, I got up to some shít, but nothing major. I actually think the bollocks that I had to put up with as a kid has always spurred me on to get to the next level, to make sure I'm a better person. Maybe I should be thanking the eejits for being so rough on me as a kid, because I don't think I'd be where I am today were it not for that!

Good job there was no Red Bull around back then.

nails1

When I was 12 or 13 I was curious to try cigarettes but nobody in my family smoked and I couldn't get served in the shop so I used to wander around my local area looking for half finished cigs to smoke. Thinking back now it was quite disgusting but at that age I was none the wiser!

Sir Arthur Daley

Knocking one out while spying on my aunt showering.

Maximus Alexander

Sir Arthur Daley wrote: »

Knocking one out while spying on my aunt showering.

Please say she was an aunt by marriage...

Renegade Mechanic

Maximus Alexander wrote: »

Please say she was an aunt by marriage...

Oh, it gets worse.

sligojoek

When I was about 12 I used to shoot my younger brother and sister with Rice Crispies from my father's air pistol. I warned them that if they ever told him I'd use real "Bullets" on them.

SouthTippBass

Sir Arthur Daley wrote: »

Knocking one out while spying on my aunt showering.

Dude....

Lou.m

Vito Corleone wrote: »

?

You are answering your own question.


You and many in this thread come across as Ralph from the Simpsons.:rolleyes:

Only YOU are more evil :mad:

dobsdave

Lou.m wrote: »

You are answering your own question.


You and many in this thread come across as Ralph from the Simpsons.:rolleyes:

Only YOU are more evil :mad:

The person you are talking to no longer exists, He couldn't stand the shame

Kimbot

wprathead wrote: »

"WWF: Don't try this at home"
Me hole!

At friends house , which was a bungaloe. Stack 3 mattress in garden. Get ladder. Jump off roof... friend does it - is awesome. I do it - I land on the mattress grand but I didnt think of the subsequent bounce. I go flying onto grass and dislocate my wrist

Actually, I remember when we were getting a shed built out the back of the house, we had tonnes of blocks lying by the wall in the front garden.

My brother grabbed my mate up on the wall and proceeded to Tombstone him right into the blocks..... i wet myself laughing while my poor mate ran home crying. I couldnt believe my brother had just done it like.

Shane.C

Murdering countless ducks and chickens on my grandparents farm by lacing stones at them!

I trapped one in a caravan before and absolutely battered him, dear christ I was insane.

pq0n1ct4ve8zf5

Apparently my dad had to stop playing the Murder Ballads album because my sister and I took to walking around the house singing "not the end..not the end..just remember, that death is not the end" and he found it too creepy.

And we also used to trap my brother under the laundry basket, because when he was a toddler the little bastard toddled off down the main road when we were supposed to be minding him, we nearly got killed. So we'd just feck the laundry out, leave him a few toys and put rocks on top so he couldn't escape. Personally I think that one's very mild on the sibling abuse scale but some people seem to think it was awful. He was grand!

I also convinced my sister on a couple of different occasions that she didn't exist, tried to drown her and locked her in a caravan for the afternoon one time because she was annoying me.

Sir Arthur Daley

Shane.C wrote: »

Murdering countless ducks and chickens on my grandparents farm by lacing stones at them!

I trapped one in a caravan before and absolutely battered him, dear christ I was insane.

That was rough, you sound like my friend when he was younger but kittens was his speciality.

AlanS181824

KH25 wrote: »

Remembered another one.

My nanny used to take me to Saturday evening mass when I was around 5 or 6. Naturally, I hated having to sit still for ages. Well one day I got out of the pew and went wandering. My nanny went to get me but the priest told her to leave me be that it was fine.

During my wander I happened upon a little wheel that could be turned. So over the next 10 minutes or so I would twist it a little bit and then head back to my seat. This went on until the last time I twisted it when there was an almighty bang in the church. Turns out the wheel belonged to the back door of one of the stations were you put in money and lit a candle. My nanny came running down to find me confused and stuck under a load of unlit candles.

Needless to say I was never taken to mass again

Huzzah! Someone else who calls their Grandmother, Nanny!

I'm not the only one! :rolleyes:

josip

AlanS181824 wrote: »

Huzzah! Someone else who calls their Grandmother, Nanny!

I'm not the only one! :rolleyes:

I also used to call my grandmother nanny but not any more.

Boom_Bap

When we were younger, we used to have massive water fights on the street on a hot day. Loads of kids running around with pots full of water, plastic bottles with a hole stabbed into the lid, crappy water pistols, and one kid always had a sup[er soaker.....anything that could hold water basically.

So one time, the water fight had ended, but one lad splashed me with water after the fight ended. I went into my mam to get my plastic bottle of water refilled to get him back, she wouldn't let me have any more water. So I went back outside, climbed onto a wall the, pulled out little Boom from my short shorts and pee pee'd all over the guy.

Larbre34

All I remember is that every bit of mischief us lads got up to had the endgame objective of seeing up girls skirts.

Whether that was daring them to climb trees ahead of us or stand on the high bits of climbing frames and applauding them very impressed or simply being so funny and charming they would voluntarily show us. Bunch of little creeps we were!

Also, 4 x quarter sticks = plant pot shrapnel.

AlanS181824

josip wrote: »

I also used to call my grandmother nanny but not any more.

3 people now! I'll take it!

Hehe :pac:

Maximus Alexander

AlanS181824 wrote: »

3 people now! I'll take it!

Hehe :pac:

We called her Nanna. Close enough?

B0jangles

We also made our little brother the occasional jam sandwich, except there was only a thin line of jam around the edge of the bread, the middle was mustard.

Delicious, spicy english mustard.

Lou.m

Sir Arthur Daley wrote: »

That was rough, you sound like my friend when he was younger but kittens was his speciality.

Where does he live now :mad: ?

Serious....time for ****ing kitty justice....I will find that ****er...give him an overly long piece of my mind until his ears bleed...

I was known for standing up to bullies and animal abusers.

Once these boys almost threw a ball at my cats head ....stopped them just in time...scared the **** out of them. Anytime I would see them I would stand guard of my house. :mad:

Poor cats they get it rough.
I can't remember disturbing **** I did. I don't think i did.

jamo2oo9

When I was 8, my hatred for my younger sister was at it's highest level after she destroying my lego town I built. At the time, she had to wear glasses all the time and she absolutely hated it. Refused to wear and when she did, she was roared at. So I took her glasses and hid it somewhere nobody would find. Next thing, parents are screaming at her on where are her glasses and she didn't know. She think she lost it and was crying about it. Dad said that if he finds the glasses, he'll bring it to the forensics to get fingerprints to prove it that it was her that hid it in the first place. That kinda scared me so I got it, cleaned it with a towel to get any of my fingerprints. Unfortunately, I got caught red handed...


Another time, I was staying in my nana's house for the day and then dad comes around to pick us up. I didn't want to go home, wanted to stay in my nana's for the night and dad said no so I ran off in a tantrum. Ran down the garden, climbed up a tree and stayed there for a good while. The next four hours were a bit of a blur (probably fell asleep) but when I had a peek at what was going on, there was hundreds of locals walking about, army helicopters all of the place. Went down to see what was going on. Turns out, everyone thought I was kidnapped and they basically called everyone including the defence forces, Gardaí, off-duty PSNI and nearly every man, woman and child in my area.

Duff

Behind my back garden is a 5 or so hectare field, full of cows with an electric wire running all around it. Used to get clumps of grass from the garden and throw it onto the electric fence and wait for to cows to bite down on it getting shocked like fcuk. Hilarious at the time but awful now thinking back.

Dad got a new mini hatchet one Summer which I discovered in the shed. There wasn't a wooden door or table leg in the house that escaped my wrath.

One halloween I filled a Lucozade bottle with 3 or 4 frogs and a Black Cat banger..

Another time in 4th or 5th class, the teacher left to get something and I stapled his coat to the chair. Must've used about 30 staples.

AlanS181824

Maximus Alexander wrote: »

We called her Nanna. Close enough?

It'll do.

4 people now, time to plan our world domination....

Doom

Me and my cousin would get his dad's air rifle and shoot cars that would drive pass his house at night time...some bang off the cars..
Another was filling potholes with petrol and lighting them...??

I am pie

Younger kid who played football with us was very scared of ghosts. He was a bit sensitive.

So, we spent weeks convincing him that a house that was in bad repair on our street (woman who lived in there must have been in her 80s) was haunted and contained a ghost.

After literally weeks of daring him to go up and look in the window and saying "did ya see it, did ya, did ya not see the ghost" we sort of convinced him there was indeed a ghost in there and he had caught a glimpse of it. Convinced it was called The White Lady.

Finally one winter evening the rest of my litte gang of horrors recorded ourselves in one of those double tape deck ghetto blaster things making spooky noises. One of the older kids hid behind the wall of the old womans house, he had his hand completely covered in white flour. Convinced the poor young fella that we were going up with torches to hunt for the ghost (we had even used catapult and stone to knock out the nearest street light).

Just as i led him creeping up to the wall with stories of seeing the ghost in the garden, the ghetto blaster let loose with the spooky noises and mt friend stuck his floury white arm up from behnd the wall.

Fck me did that kid wail...screeched his way running all the way back to his house, must have been about 10 at the time. Didn't see him for a good few months after and got a talking to from all of our mothers about how the kid was very upset and scared.

I actually met the guy years (20 years) later and had a laugh about it over a pint.

sligojoek

Memphis Large Mulberry wrote: »

Apparently my dad had to stop playing the Murder Ballads album because my sister and I took to walking around the house singing "not the end..not the end..just remember, that death is not the end" and he found it too creepy.

And we also used to trap my brother under the laundry basket, because when he was a toddler the little bastard toddled off down the main road when we were supposed to be minding him, we nearly got killed. So we'd just feck the laundry out, leave him a few toys and put rocks on top so he couldn't escape. Personally I think that one's very mild on the sibling abuse scale but some people seem to think it was awful. He was grand!

I also convinced my sister on a couple of different occasions that she didn't exist, tried to drown her and locked her in a caravan for the afternoon one time because she was annoying me.

I subjected my now 18 year old daughter to that album when she was a baby. To this day, whenever she hears Nick Cave on the radio she'll turn it off or change the channel. She's the same with Johnny Cash and the Pogues.

She'll come round eventually.

Gamer Bhoy 89

i played streets of rage 2 in the buff once... i was 10