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Thank you, I've already put up "Lucky Fred"
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i've got some good ones of aussie betting shops....most involve mentally deficient people who took exception at something i did or said to them.....
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We're waiting. :-)
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Oh dear, I'm going to be late going in for my vital kidney transplant, but I can't miss this...
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it's late here, so they won't be tonight....see my thread for some details....
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good night chitchatters....
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smashing,w/d lads
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lol
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ok, my stories aren't as good as the originals...basically all the ones related to betting shops would be cases of me taking on crazy people, and then them threatening to kill me.....but in the interests of keeping this FECKING HILARIOUS fred from extinction, here goes with a couple of quick tales of people i have encountered in my part time job as a bookie's clerk in magnificent melbourne town....
THE CIGAR-CHOMPING MIDGET i picked up a job working the computer on the members' side of the rail a couple of spring carnivals ago, where i encountered this memorable chap. he looked like a cross between the millionaire from Monopoly, and hans moleman from The Simpsons....add in the worst combover you've ever seen, and he was pretty much the strangest looking person you would ever encounter......he was as short as a person could be without actually being a midget, and always dressed in top-hat and tails, with a cigar constantly on the spin......that's pretty much the story.....interesting rather than funny, but he obviously had a few quid to spare....i have absolutely no idea where it might have come from..... STRANGE AMOUNT PUNTER another big punter from the members' enclosure, what distinguished this fella was his strange betting amounts.....he was always carrying around a book, constantly jotting something down, so he was obviously thinking about it....then he'd come up and ask for $385 on a horse...... after a few meetings, i worked out that he only ever bet in 3 amounts....i can't remember what they actually were, but they were something like 385, 770 and 1540.....doubled, and doubled again.....he obviously had some staking system, but not one of his 3 amounts was a round figure.....very strange.... THE LAP-DANCE KID last spring carnival, i filled in at a couple of meetings at royal flemington, carrying the bag amongst the assorted riff-raff in 'general admission'....just a small, interstate bookie, late in the day one of those 18 year olds that go the spring carnival comes up, off his face, and has 20 bucks on a horse at 4.2..... he comes back a couple of minutes later, didn't realise the race was still about 20 minutes away.....he'd just realised his horse was 8 bucks on the t ote, and wanted to cancel.....we wouldn't let him, so he p*ssed off for a bit......of course, the horse wins, and he comes up as soon as they cross the line to gloat.... a few minutes of abuse until weight comes thru, then he tells us he's gonna spend his winnings on a lap dance.....he had a couple of mates....all of them thought this was hilarious.... i'm sure i didn't word it as eloquently as this, but when i gave him his money i said something like 'when you get that lardance, imagine what she'd be doing if ya'd backed it on the t ote'......think he was too p*ssed to get it, but i thought it was hilarious..... ok, there ya go.....not as good as the others, i know, but interesting, at least??? i'm sure people here would have better stories....let's see them, people..... |
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thats better
heres the lot nite all - enjoy |
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ttt
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enjoy.......
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as requested by some on the horsey forum.
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THE ANIMAL - Top man .
To anyone who hasn't seen this before take the time to read it all the way through , its well worth it . |
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11 kv actually beat me to it, literally by seconds, but thanks all the same.
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THE ROCKING HORSE(SO NAMED FROM THE WAY HE USED TO ROCK PRECARIOUSLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE WHILST STANDING)
used to roam the kilburn high road/cricklewood broadway in the eighties - retarded/drink sodden giant son of some loaded irish builder - frequented the the twenty or so betting shops in the vicinty on a daily basis with trousers round around ankles grunting unintelligble drivel at any terrified punters in the vicinity whilst gnawing at giant meat bone given to him by local butcher to get rid of him out of their shop - the glorious day came when whilst managing the ladcrooks shop in the broadway one busy saturday(when the shop shut at 6.30 and the hoards had been slung out the floor was always full of hundreds of guinness cans) - the district manager from hell arrived to give me the usual load of sh1te - there was dust on the pelmets - the penny bags only had 99p in them etc etc - horrible scots git called fred underwood - hope he's frying in hell fire - in the middle of racing arrives the rocking horse covered in blood plus bone - fred eventually notices him and tells me to sling him out(not a policy that the RH appreciated) - i refuse on the grounds on 'elf and safety - so fred draws himself up to his full 5ft 6in puffs out his chest and with a full shop of punters looking on with great interest,marches up to the RH, pokes him up in the back and informs him his presence is no longer acceptable - RH lurches round takes 1 look at the creep before and with one silky movement delivers said giant bone with ferocious force into freds face - result - one horrible jock sparko on the deck with smashed glasses,multo claret and a totally spontaneous sustained round of applause from the packed shop - exit the rocking horse with with a crafty grin on his mush - A TRUE BETTING SHOP HERO! |
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THE ROCKING HORSE(SO NAMED FROM THE WAY HE USED TO ROCK PRECARIOUSLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE WHILST STANDING)
used to roam the kilburn high road/cricklewood broadway in the eighties - retarded/drink sodden giant son of some loaded irish builder - frequented the the twenty or so betting shops in the vicinty on a daily basis with trousers round around ankles grunting unintelligble drivel at any terrified punters in the vicinity whilst gnawing at giant meat bone given to him by local butcher to get rid of him out of their shop - the glorious day came when whilst managing the ladcrooks shop in the broadway one busy saturday(when the shop shut at 6.30 and the hoards had been slung out the floor was always full of hundreds of guinness cans) - the district manager from hell arrived to give me the usual load of sh1te - there was dust on the pelmets - the penny bags only had 99p in them etc etc - horrible scots git called fred underwood - hope he's frying in hell fire - in the middle of racing arrives the rocking horse covered in blood plus bone - fred eventually notices him and tells me to sling him out(not a policy that the RH appreciated) - i refuse on the grounds on 'elf and safety - so fred draws himself up to his full 5ft 6in puffs out his chest and with a full shop of punters looking on with great interest,marches up to the RH, pokes him up in the back and informs him his presence is no longer acceptable - RH lurches round takes 1 look at the creep before and with one silky movement delivers said giant bone with ferocious force into freds face - result - one horrible jock sparko on the deck with smashed glasses,multo claret and a totally spontaneous sustained round of applause from the packed shop - exit the rocking horse with with a crafty grin on his mush - A TRUE BETTING SHOP HERO! |
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THE ROCKING HORSE(SO NAMED FROM THE WAY HE USED TO ROCK PRECARIOUSLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE WHILST STANDING)
used to roam the kilburn high road/cricklewood broadway in the eighties - retarded/drink sodden giant son of some loaded irish builder - frequented the the twenty or so betting shops in the vicinty on a daily basis with trousers round around ankles grunting unintelligble drivel at any terrified punters in the vicinity whilst gnawing at giant meat bone given to him by local butcher to get rid of him out of their shop - the glorious day came when whilst managing the ladcrooks shop in the broadway one busy saturday(when the shop shut at 6.30 and the hoards had been slung out the floor was always full of hundreds of guinness cans) - the district manager from hell arrived to give me the usual load of sh1te - there was dust on the pelmets - the penny bags only had 99p in them etc etc - horrible scots git called fred underwood - hope he's frying in hell fire - in the middle of racing arrives the rocking horse covered in blood plus bone - fred eventually notices him and tells me to sling him out(not a policy that the RH appreciated) - i refuse on the grounds on 'elf and safety - so fred draws himself up to his full 5ft 6in puffs out his chest and with a full shop of punters looking on with great interest,marches up to the RH, pokes him up in the back and informs him his presence is no longer acceptable - RH lurches round takes 1 look at the creep before and with one silky movement delivers said giant bone with ferocious force into freds face - result - one horrible jock sparko on the deck with smashed glasses,multo claret and a totally spontaneous sustained round of applause from the packed shop - exit the rocking horse with with a crafty grin on his mush - A TRUE BETTING SHOP HERO! |
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THE ROCKING HORSE(SO NAMED FROM THE WAY HE USED TO ROCK PRECARIOUSLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE WHILST STANDING)
used to roam the kilburn high road/cricklewood broadway in the eighties - retarded/drink sodden giant son of some loaded irish builder - frequented the the twenty or so betting shops in the vicinty on a daily basis with trousers round around ankles grunting unintelligble drivel at any terrified punters in the vicinity whilst gnawing at giant meat bone given to him by local butcher to get rid of him out of their shop - the glorious day came when whilst managing the ladcrooks shop in the broadway one busy saturday(when the shop shut at 6.30 and the hoards had been slung out the floor was always full of hundreds of guinness cans) - the district manager from hell arrived to give me the usual load of sh1te - there was dust on the pelmets - the penny bags only had 99p in them etc etc - horrible scots git called fred underwood - hope he's frying in hell fire - in the middle of racing arrives the rocking horse covered in blood plus bone - fred eventually notices him and tells me to sling him out(not a policy that the RH appreciated) - i refuse on the grounds on 'elf and safety - so fred draws himself up to his full 5ft 6in puffs out his chest and with a full shop of punters looking on with great interest,marches up to the RH, pokes him up in the back and informs him his presence is no longer acceptable - RH lurches round takes 1 look at the creep before and with one silky movement delivers said giant bone with ferocious force into freds face - result - one horrible jock sparko on the deck with smashed glasses,multo claret and a totally spontaneous sustained round of applause from the packed shop - exit the rocking horse with with a crafty grin on his mush - A TRUE BETTING SHOP HERO! |
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THE ROCKING HORSE(SO NAMED FROM THE WAY HE USED TO ROCK PRECARIOUSLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE WHILST STANDING)
used to roam the kilburn high road/cricklewood broadway in the eighties - retarded/drink sodden giant son of some loaded irish builder - frequented the the twenty or so betting shops in the vicinty on a daily basis with trousers round around ankles grunting unintelligble drivel at any terrified punters in the vicinity whilst gnawing at giant meat bone given to him by local butcher to get rid of him out of their shop - the glorious day came when whilst managing the ladcrooks shop in the broadway one busy saturday(when the shop shut at 6.30 and the hoards had been slung out the floor was always full of hundreds of guinness cans) - the district manager from hell arrived to give me the usual load of sh1te - there was dust on the pelmets - the penny bags only had 99p in them etc etc - horrible scots git called fred underwood - hope he's frying in hell fire - in the middle of racing arrives the rocking horse covered in blood plus bone - fred eventually notices him and tells me to sling him out(not a policy that the RH appreciated) - i refuse on the grounds on 'elf and safety - so fred draws himself up to his full 5ft 6in puffs out his chest and with a full shop of punters looking on with great interest,marches up to the RH, pokes him up in the back and informs him his presence is no longer acceptable - RH lurches round takes 1 look at the creep before and with one silky movement delivers said giant bone with ferocious force into freds face - result - one horrible jock sparko on the deck with smashed glasses,multo claret and a totally spontaneous sustained round of applause from the packed shop - exit the rocking horse with with a crafty grin on his mush - A TRUE BETTING SHOP HERO! |
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THE ROCKING HORSE(SO NAMED FROM THE WAY HE USED TO ROCK PRECARIOUSLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE WHILST STANDING)
used to roam the kilburn high road/cricklewood broadway in the eighties - retarded/drink sodden giant son of some loaded irish builder - frequented the the twenty or so betting shops in the vicinty on a daily basis with trousers round around ankles grunting unintelligble drivel at any terrified punters in the vicinity whilst gnawing at giant meat bone given to him by local butcher to get rid of him out of their shop - the glorious day came when whilst managing the ladcrooks shop in the broadway one busy saturday(when the shop shut at 6.30 and the hoards had been slung out the floor was always full of hundreds of guinness cans) - the district manager from hell arrived to give me the usual load of sh1te - there was dust on the pelmets - the penny bags only had 99p in them etc etc - horrible scots gentleman - hope he's frying in hell fire - in the middle of racing arrives the rocking horse covered in blood plus bone - fred eventually notices him and tells me to sling him out(not a policy that the RH appreciated) - i refuse on the grounds on 'elf and safety - so fred draws himself up to his full 5ft 6in puffs out his chest and with a full shop of punters looking on with great interest,marches up to the RH, pokes him up in the back and informs him his presence is no longer acceptable - RH lurches round takes 1 look at the creep before and with one silky movement delivers said giant bone with ferocious force into freds face - result - one horrible jock sparko on the deck with smashed glasses,multo claret and a totally spontaneous sustained round of applause from the packed shop - exit the rocking horse with with a crafty grin on his mush - A TRUE BETTING SHOP HERO! |
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THE ROCKING HORSE(SO NAMED FROM THE WAY HE USED TO ROCK PRECARIOUSLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE WHILST STANDING)
used to roam the kilburn high road/cricklewood broadway in the eighties - retarded/drink sodden giant son of some loaded irish builder - frequented the the twenty or so betting shops in the vicinty on a daily basis with trousers round around ankles grunting unintelligble drivel at any terrified punters in the vicinity whilst gnawing at giant meat bone given to him by local butcher to get rid of him out of their shop - the glorious day came when whilst managing the ladcrooks shop in the broadway one busy saturday(when the shop shut at 6.30 and the hoards had been slung out the floor was always full of hundreds of guinness cans) - the district manager from hell arrived to give me the usual load of sh1te - there was dust on the pelmets - the penny bags only had 99p in them etc etc - horrible scots gentleman - hope he's frying in hell fire - in the middle of racing arrives the rocking horse covered in blood plus bone - fred eventually notices him and tells me to sling him out(not a policy that the RH appreciated) - i refuse on the grounds on 'elf and safety - so fred draws himself up to his full 5ft 6in puffs out his chest and with a full shop of punters looking on with great interest,marches up to the RH, pokes him up in the back and informs him his presence is no longer acceptable - RH lurches round takes 1 look at the creep before and with one silky movement delivers said giant bone with ferocious force into freds face - result - one horrible jock sparko on the deck with smashed glasses,multo claret and a totally spontaneous sustained round of applause from the packed shop - exit the rocking horse with with a crafty grin on his mush |
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THE ROCKING HORSE
used to roam the kilburn high road/cricklewood broadway in the eighties - retarded/drink sodden giant son of some loaded irish builder - frequented the the twenty or so betting shops in the vicinty on a daily basis with trousers round around ankles grunting unintelligble drivel at any terrified punters in the vicinity whilst gnawing at giant meat bone given to him by local butcher to get rid of him out of their shop - the glorious day came when whilst managing the ladcrooks shop in the broadway one busy saturday(when the shop shut at 6.30 and the hoards had been slung out the floor was always full of hundreds of guinness cans) - the district manager from hell arrived to give me the usual load of sh1te - there was dust on the pelmets - the penny bags only had 99p in them etc etc - horrible scots gentleman - hope he's frying in hell fire - in the middle of racing arrives the rocking horse covered in blood plus bone - fred eventually notices him and tells me to sling him out(not a policy that the RH appreciated) - i refuse on the grounds on 'elf and safety - so fred draws himself up to his full 5ft 6in puffs out his chest and with a full shop of punters looking on with great interest,marches up to the RH, pokes him up in the back and informs him his presence is no longer acceptable - RH lurches round takes 1 look at the creep before and with one silky movement delivers said giant bone with ferocious force into freds face - result - one horrible jock sparko on the deck with smashed glasses,multo claret and a totally spontaneous sustained round of applause from the packed shop - exit the rocking horse with with a crafty grin on his mush |
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did you like the rocking horse harry?
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His finger was rocking on the keyboard.
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Good one though.
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BENNY
benny was the only cashier in the sadcrooks shop in denman st (small shop just around the corner from piccadilly circus) He was a horrible greasy little jewish gentleman in his late fifties with the foulest mouth imaginable - he used to sit having a crap with the toilet door wide open whilst swearing loudly at the sporting life - he used to insist on receiving his weekly wages in fivers and would count and recount them endlessly before tying them up with an elastic band as tightly as possible - the impression being that it would choke him to spend one of them - the punters, who hated him(the feeling was mutual) would wait till he was on the phone/ gone to the bog/ making a cuppa, then as soon as the bell for the dog race would ring, half a dozen of them would charge up to the counter waving betting slips, benny would drop the phone/drink on the floor, trip over the chair in his haste to get to the counter to take the bets , only to realise they were all taking the** and didn't want a bet - cue a tirade from benny "you effing black/irish**wnkers - thats the last bet i'm taking from you kunts -eff off to mecca's etc etc - this happened several times a week - one day whilst in there as a relief manager the phone rang and benny answered- the conversation went as follows: -ello -you effing what? -what are you on about you stupid effer? -eff off you bald headed**- this is a betting shop phone gets slammed down -who was that? -effing stirling moss looking for some theatre tickets |
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I had to chuck a guy out this week who'd obviously filled his pants in the shop, everyone was complaining aout the smell.... As he was going through the door he asked me if he should have a bath or just a wash???????????
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This bloke by the name of Eugene would come into the bookies at opening time every day and stay till closing time. He would back in every single race but would have to walk outside the door as the race was about to start and would peek through the window at the TV screen to monitor how his selection was doing. He never gave an explanation as to why he did this and some of the other clowns in the bookies who knew his habit would stand at the window to block his view as a joke. This quirk of his has gone on for the 30 years+ that he has been going in the bookies.
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This is the best one of the lot
AM I TOO EARLY 29 Jul 00:12 'EAVY 'ANDED 'ARRY Takes 5 or 6 slips out of the dispenser and writes one bet out. All the other slips are knackered because he presses so hard with the pen. Can't move a chair without hitting somebodys shins with it. He pulled the chain from the khazi cistern once, came out and put it on the counter and said 'That's broke. |
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Yeah, good thread this
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It certainly is.
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