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I cant compete with time travel, you win the prize.

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As you know, I’ve had an absolute spanking from the moderators on here for some of my posts, I now know what it must have been like to be locked in a room with Cyril Smith back in the late 60’s. Anyroad, the upshot of it was as I was encouraged to take a break for a few weeks.
On top of all that Wandering Walter phoned saying “Look D you have no friends on Facebook, the postie wasn’t exactly tested delivering your Chrismas cards, Mick the Mod doesn’t return your calls and there’s only Bumble, and Dave Salmon tweeting you from Accy. And then he goes and dies on me so what with arranging his funeral and with feeding my geese time has just flown.
Let’s just see what 2013 brings us.

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Welcome back.:D

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Oh Hum:rolleyes:

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Welcome back from me too!

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Hey Mr C thanks..
..did you speak to Banni' about how he came to be called "the Beast"?

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Yeh asked him up stanley, twas actually before he left school.:)

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What was the name of the bakers next door to the Tech?.... I was musing the other day about their freshly baked cobs..at dinner time used to scoop out the warm dough and fill the void with crisps. The owners daughters in the shop were alway a reason to visit.

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Lockwoods was the baker, Liz was the daughter.;) she would be eldest i think, the way she was built anyway.:D

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Roy was the brother, his wife was a councillor untill she sadly died a couple of years ago.

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Aye but nobody i know went in fer a sight of Roy.:D

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:rofl38::rofl38::rofl38:daft sod:D

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Have you seen the piece in this weeks Observer Neil? Front page and #22

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I noticed the picture on the front with Sophie pole dancing but have not read it yet

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Where were we? Oh yes how did Gambler Caves get their name?

.. I am having difficulties embracing the concept of a people wending their way up onto Moleside just to toss a few coins, surely there were enough shibeens and late night pub lock ins in the olden day Accy for this to happen in more salubrious, secure and comfortable surrounding? I can’t imagine the “rozzers” going up there either, easier pickings in the town I woulda’ thought.

It was a dark and stormy night. Sergeant to rookie Peeler “ Get thi’ cape n whistle lad and get thi’sen up to Gamblers Caves and catch some badlads and put em’ in’t pokie, toot three times if you need help”
Rookie to Sergeant “Why Sarge, what goes on up yon?”
Doh !

The story I heard from Wandering Walter was: A lad called Zebediah who was a degenerate gambler lived up on Moleside with his brother Obadiah. One day (sometime after Obadiah's mother died of unknown reasons), Zebediah considering himself on a "lucky streak"; played a game of Russian roulette right there in the cave and on the stone slab we Woodnookers and Mr C thought was a sacrificial altar his luck ran out and he shot himself in the head right in front of young Obadiah. That would explain the bloodstains Mr C. This trauma caused Obadiah to lose all of his hair and go bald and shaped him for years to come.