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One of my
favourite pastimes is to travel to watch Cowden
playing an away game, freshen up in a local hostelry
and then go about sniffing for 'tottie'. There is
nothing to beat Cowden stuffing the local football
team followed up by then stuffing some local crumpet.
For any Cowden fans who may wish to partake of this
post away match activity I've compiled a selection
of my sexperiences from various exotic, or even
erotic, away fixture venues as a guide to what to
expect when venturing into the dark abyss of a drunken
Saturday night out in some Drongoville dive.
Despite constantly
being swamped by females outside grounds even after
away games these experiences naturally occurred
after the time I was a ballboy as an overnight stay
was an essential part of this hobby. I doubt if
Andy Matthew would have approved of me holding up
the team bus by saying "I'll load up the boot
hamper in a minute boss, once I've used it to give
Senga a rodgering on". This compilation relates
to the time I was in my twenties when I was getting
off with about ten different birds each week.
MONTROSE
- The expression that this place is full of
"whoores and comic singers" is very true
i.e. a high proportion of nymphos and numpties.
The football team's nickname is the Gable Endies
as evident by the architecture of their High Street.
Over the years I have had a full blown sexual encounter
in every doorway in that High Street - except for
the Chinese carry out where my feet always kept
slipping at the wrong moment on thrown away soft
boiled noodles and other such Eastern delicacies.
COATBRIDGE
- Evokes memories of attending a really classy
disco (not!) in this dump in 1980. Every female
my pal and I danced with said to us "Whit the
f*** ur youz smiling at". I concluded from
this that humour or any form of happiness was devoid
in this godforsaken neck of the woods. We eventually
started growling at birds that night and got some
favourable responses. I remembered this ploy on
future visits to gain some meagre successes in this
easily forgettable midden.
CLYDEBANK
- I will never forget walking into the Cawder
Vaults Bar after a game in 1975. Three girls immediately
started laughing at me and my mate. Some good natured
slagging of each other then ensued and it actually
turned out to be quite a night. Three actually can
be good company. It always makes me think of Clydebank's
current sponsors when I realise how those girls
must have felt when they first clapped eyes on me.
FALKIRK
- Local nanny is as rough as John Lambie's vocal
chords and a lot of the girls are mentally imbalanced
presumably due to large scale interbreeding that
takes place in this weirdo infested one horse town.
On the few occasions where I met a relatively normal
girl I had some successes which included a steamy
session in the back of a Blue Star taxi. The driver
kept complaining about the back window being open
but he soon shut up when he realised it had saved
him from later needing to use a mop and bucket for
the seat of his taxi.
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