What NSC'ers from days of yore do you miss?

[Return of the Rev]

dwayne?

 

[Biscuit]

...and Laughing Bluebird must be the best rival fan we've ever had on here, top bloke.

Are you joking? I thought he was an utter, utter ****.

I miss Yorkie and Brighton Bird!

 

[chez]

Virgirlo & BMF don't visit anymore which is a loss.

 

[Barrel of Fun]

Buba was an absolute card and is sorely missed. Empathetic, friendly, balanced and had a warm and glowing outlook on life.

 

[Art Vs Science]

I don't post as often because there are simply too many PRICKS on here.

 

[Monkey Man]

London Irish posts on the Eastbourne Borough forum pretty regularly, under that name.

 

[Wozza]

CAFC Matt. NSC legend, imo.

 

[algie]

Virgirlo & BMF don't visit anymore which is a loss.

Good shout about BMF. He buggered off to the states didn't he?

 

[Bry Nylon]

Basil Fawlty

 

[chez]

Good shout about BMF. He buggered off to the states didn't he?

Yep he did. He's living in New York State.

 

[sams dad]

London Irish posts on the Eastbourne Borough forum pretty regularly, under that name.

He also posts on Brightonfans.com

 

[algie]

Yep he did. He's living in New York State.

Yea i hope things have worked out for him as i know he had a few problems. I remember talking to him a couple of times via pm's. Maybe moving away has really helped him.

 

[Lyndhurst 14]

Yep he did. He's living in New York State.

Last I heard he was still living in Buffalo with a new baby. Still supports the Bills as far as I know.

 

[chez]

Last I heard he was still living in Buffalo with a new baby. Still supports the Bills as far as I know.

Ooh he won't like that Bills comment, he's a Cowboys man!! I think that baby is around 18 months now and he has another due very soon. He's certainly been a busy boy since moving out there.

Algie - The problems have subsided I think although I must admit that I haven't spoken to him for ages, things are certainly going in the right direction.

 

[Safeway]

He also posts on Brightonfans.com

Is that still going?!

(As the founder of NSP, I am aware of the irony of this post.)

 

[dwayne]

dwayne?

Hello

 

[Tyrone Biggums]

Juan Albion.

His "this has 0-0 written all over it" line would have been made a mockery this season.

Though if he'd changed it to this has 1-0 written all over it...

 

[Meade's Ball]

I spend a lot of time on a gasman-impersonation forum nowadays taking some tips from some of the legends of the industry, planning my next old-person's-home heist. I entered the scene thinking it was the old women, those mauve-haired troglodytes forever in plastic wrapping, that would be the easiest to prey on, but it turns out it's the elderly gents who ache the loneliest and beg for the outskirts of company. They're eagerer to answer doors that ring and offer cups of tea they've run out of all but powdered milk to make in exchange for an ear that feigns listening and a single crooked smile. On entry, i look out for the likelihood of other potential visiters in the form of large-fonted appointment diaries left somewhere in the unkemptness, and ancient weapons either dangling from walls or hidden neath beds to be used against me when my job is in full flow. One can't keep a constant eye on the tied-up when scouring for loot, and i learnt from Tim "four-finger" Spitley about the dangers of turning to find a war veteran coming at you with a rusty scimitar. And there's often talk on June 16th of Arty Trowel, the forever-uncaught toolkitted master of disguise, whose name was all those in the trade new of thanks to his face being blown clean off by someone wilier than they appeared on that very date back in '06. There are rumours of his blunder - the possibility that the "old geezer" who took him and his face outmastered sly Arty and was no more than a rival wearing the cloth of a man beyond his years; and the one about a dash of over-confidence that made him forget the basics and underdose the drugged tea he fed his mostly-decrepid victims - but no one really knows. It's all just hearsay with Arty and his faginesque myth. Personally, i follow very simple rules, and they are as follows: 1 - have a batch of well-designed headed-paper that validates my visit. 2 - have the deepest of smiles on the face of the badge i deceptively wear and flash. 3 - always ask where the wife is today so that a lengthy and befuddled tale of tragedy and love-at-first-sight can rattle on as i mentally log areas of interest and value around the yellowed room. 4 - carry a selection of sweets from gobstoppers to toffee eclairs. 5 - hold a concealed weapon in case a dog comes at me. 6 - make a series of pretend phonecalls on my mobile to the manager, normally called Bill, to say i've spotted a leak and to send Derek down ASAP to get it sorted. With those, and the obvious oversized holdall of crowbars and blow-torches, i normally do quite well. In the last month i've done three places and collected over £700, mostly in smallchange. Admittedly, i earnt more lecturing at Brunel in Biomedical Science, but this give me more of a buzz.

 

[Everest]

All those people that are unfortunately no longer with us, and will not get to see the Albion play at the Amex.

 

[Lord Bamber]

I spend a lot of time on a gasman-impersonation forum nowadays taking some tips from some of the legends of the industry, planning my next old-person's-home heist. I entered the scene thinking it was the old women, those mauve-haired troglodytes forever in plastic wrapping, that would be the easiest to prey on, but it turns out it's the elderly gents who ache the loneliest and beg for the outskirts of company. They're eagerer to answer doors that ring and offer cups of tea they've run out of all but powdered milk to make in exchange for an ear that feigns listening and a single crooked smile. On entry, i look out for the likelihood of other potential visiters in the form of large-fonted appointment diaries left somewhere in the unkemptness, and ancient weapons either dangling from walls or hidden neath beds to be used against me when my job is in full flow. One can't keep a constant eye on the tied-up when scouring for loot, and i learnt from Tim "four-finger" Spitley about the dangers of turning to find a war veteran coming at you with a rusty scimitar. And there's often talk on June 16th of Arty Trowel, the forever-uncaught toolkitted master of disguise, whose name was all those in the trade new of thanks to his face being blown clean off by someone wilier than they appeared on that very date back in '06. There are rumours of his blunder - the possibility that the "old geezer" who took him and his face outmastered sly Arty and was no more than a rival wearing the cloth of a man beyond his years; and the one about a dash of over-confidence that made him forget the basics and underdose the drugged tea he fed his mostly-decrepid victims - but no one really knows. It's all just hearsay with Arty and his faginesque myth. Personally, i follow very simple rules, and they are as follows: 1 - have a batch of well-designed headed-paper that validates my visit. 2 - have the deepest of smiles on the face of the badge i deceptively wear and flash. 3 - always ask where the wife is today so that a lengthy and befuddled tale of tragedy and love-at-first-sight can rattle on as i mentally log areas of interest and value around the yellowed room. 4 - carry a selection of sweets from gobstoppers to toffee eclairs. 5 - hold a concealed weapon in case a dog comes at me. 6 - make a series of pretend phonecalls on my mobile to the manager, normally called Bill, to say i've spotted a leak and to send Derek down ASAP to get it sorted. With those, and the obvious oversized holdall of crowbars and blow-torches, i normally do quite well. In the last month i've done three places and collected over £700, mostly in smallchange. Admittedly, i earnt more lecturing at Brunel in Biomedical Science, but this give me more of a buzz.