I remember...when i was a little rascal...vol.1.

I remember when i was a little kid, i was not a bad boy or a little devil, just a little rascal...when i was about 4 my parents started buliding our family house oh yes boyos, it s different than in england, you can get your own plot and build your own fucked up 2 floors house with your own garage, workshop, garden patio, doghouse, chicken yard, pig hut,iglo etc...so i really hated to live their because it was the west end of my town, no kids lived there those time, just me and our neighbour`s son. nobody..it was on the side of a busy road, you walked over the road and there was a corn field...i watched my dad plenty of times or i was sitting with my dad in his harvester...we called it combain tractor...on the left of this fucked up never ending corn field galaxy was a huge place, local agri culture college, co op etc...becoz most of the kids parents where worked there just like my dad used to, my neighbours worked there too. So it was obvious we will hang out there with them others. in the front of the college there were old time tractors.. you can get on them and play with them sometimes they turned into tanks in our minds when we replayed the second world war biggest battles...but behind those tractors there was the college on the left wing of the bulding, there were some kinda studios for the girls with a huge shower room...during the summer time or hot days in the spring or autumn they left the windows wide open so all we kids were hung on them watching them girls having their bath or shower, starring at them bristols with a hard on...and that was leading us to an idea...to buy some water guns...big mother fucking water guns i meant... ran them full up with icey water and we start shooting at the girls...the war begun between us. As we got older, the war changed, it was more about who can sleep with t more girls or and it was a really hard competition too, who can chat up the most beautyful ones...were not much of them lived there...it also turned into a dangerous place as we jumped on the skinhead fashion, becoz lots of gypsie girls were studying in that college and skinheads had no good reputation by attacking gyppos...so even if the gyppo gal loved you and accepted your skinhead punk metal kid ways, there were certain things you had to go thru...get abused by your skinhead mates that you are with a gypsie girl, get abused and violeted from the other gypsies.
i also remember my first proper fight took place in there on the basket ball court with another gang of kids..they were older than us...i dont know why we didnt accept them or liked other kids, for some reason as we thought we were the only lords of the college courts and the girls or i dunno we hated we fought we tried to chase them out our territory...that very day when this gang turned up we were playing basketball with the girls and these older boys just joined in or wanted to take over i can not remember now...but...2 brothers, and one of their best mate who also were a skinhead but he thought he was the only true skin, the best the most the onyl one were the hardcore elements of this gang...i can not remember why but i did get the hump...girls in the windows watched us...shouting and screaming or clampping ...and i ended up face to face with the stronger brother maybe he was the gang leader dunno...i was shitting myself to be honest...but i had the basket ball in my hand and word after word... came the argy bargy...you know kidy way...i call this older cuz and he will beat you up kinda kid studd... sort of arguements like who can say bigger and scarier shite...but after a few moments i lost it... i really did...i grabbed the ball and throw into the geezer face, and bang...his nose cracked...blood everywhere..i started punching him like some mad mother fucker. like muhamed fucking ali, he went down i was just beating him, everybody got back and they stopped fighting becoz of me and him...let s face it and im going to be honest,i do not really like violence, becoz my dad used to drink heavily and the alcohol turned him into a cunt i had to fight him to save my mum, my sister, my granma sometimes... even he thrown my grandad out of our house in the winter the tempreture was 10 below outside and the cunt locked his old man out wearing his Pjs... so he was a bastard on the piss and i was scared of violence, i was afraid of violence not becoz of the injuries or consequences, more like i dont want to turn into him myself you know what i mean...but after that fight i got a little bit too far...lost control over my fears...i knew i beat up an older kid, i knew becoz i just did it... i was mental..and i knew i can be a mental cunt anytime...feared no foe...
so my mum sent me to her side of the family to spend my summer holidays with my cuz and my mum s parents. it was in the very same town, but on the south east part of it..more like an old town with fucking country feeling by the cruising cows on the roads at 6 in the morning and 6 in the evening...my granny, my mum s aunt and my uncles houses where in a triangle ( Dad used to call it Bermuda Triangle after some weird stories and activities ) and in the middle there was our school with a huge Jesus memorial Crucifix.and mate let me tell you:the trouble just begun there...with the other kids...we were feared, we were chased, we were warned by the police...who cares when you are young ...you just a little rascal who doesnt give a fuck!
The Gang was ready, broke into places, stole what we could, ruined, killed scared anything and everything we could...we were the fucking gang of Klapka Street.
We wore soviet army jackets with huge nazi swastika on our shoulder...do not ask me why or it was our rebellion, it scared people...so we sprayed a huge fucking swastika up on my aunt brickwall opposite the school n Jesus...nobody touched it...they knew we did it..but everybody was scared of washing it down becoz if the police called you , easily could face inprisonment for it...yeah im talking about 87 the last few years of the commie regime in my country.
We both gone into the same school in the triangle...and there was an old commie agent living next to it she was selling corn on the cobs, popcorns, apples, sweets for the kids..but my great granma who supposed to look after us and control us was an old nazi party member, who told us the people secrets around who what did during the war, the revolution in 56s etc...we attacked them, we terrorized them, we did everything to ruin their lifes and turn into hell...so she didnt controlled us, she just poured more petrol on fire with her stories. we did fight against those people and she just carried on singing her war songs with a big grin on her face.
That how i was growning up.robbing the school in summer holiday, terrorizing people on the streets in their homes for the riddim of the old war songs.... And there was my grandad, my dad s dad...and his family were absolutly against any political parties but he was a joker...he took the piss out of anybody in no minute... so he never looked at the soviet jacket with the swastika in sucha bad ways as any other adult did, nope...he looked at us, smiled laughed, and said: You All Look Like Adolf Hitler`s Kids..bang he did touched us with these words...we were over the moon. we were the bad boys we were cool...Adolf Hitler was bad, that s what everybody told us, teachers, the regime the adults..and we were like his fucking kids...that was something else, something cool....he was a funny bloke , i mean my grandad....not the cuntish hitler...my gran always made jokes and took the mickey out of anything everything or anybody...so he was another good influence in my childhood. he was a rascal himself... :)
The gangs of kids, we organized bottles against each others...fuck yeah we fought with chestnuts...yeah but we thrown the whole thing on one another...with the green spikey sharp cover shite on em chestnuts..fucking painful im telling you...we had our "bunker" to hide...we had our weapons air rifles, knives, slingshots...the uniforms...the army jackets with the swastikas, iron crosses, bands patches on em everything had to be extreme and wild... skeletons, skulls, death, war...ira, eta uda slogans, free palestine mottos anything shocking...what we bad thing saw in telly on the news them gone on the jackets first thing next day morning. it was fucking briliant...we were between 8-11 years old kids...it was briliant. Teachers,the police, the old commie party members called us fascists and blamed my great granny for everything,my grandad who telling us the tricks and his ideas to make fun at people... but what the fuck to do with a dead sneak pinned up on the school door at the first day back from summer holiday and being fascist? Specially not with a gyppo in the gang who actually looked like Eddy Murphy ( later on he joined our skinhead gang but got violeted buy racist skinheads and gypsies for his skinhead look and ways...).we were fucking kids for god s sake.we didnt organize demos, revolutions, riots not at all...we broke into schools, corner shops, old pensioners houses, and just left chaos behind us.