BoxRec

Rough. Really rough. Unfortunately, like James, I've had mates who seem to have staggered from one addiction to the next over the course of their lives.

I seem to be in the minority. I actually like the Booths. I've always found them to be good down-to-earth lads who wouldn't cross the road when they saw you coming - and I know for a fact they don't take liberties with anyone in sparring.
Given Nicky's despicable burglary charge, I'm setting myself up for a right slaughtering here I know. But he's doing the time for it now in a proper jail. The arrogant bastards like Geoffrey Archer get the cushy open prisons.

i can honestly say the only addiction I have is sport, my family and my mates. (dont be sick)
I'll try most things once tho some things more than once, always an open mind.

sad story this :( lets hope nicky can turn things around in his life before he ever thinks about boxing again.

I'm sure I told everyone this a long time ago!

jamesmcdonnell wrote:
To be honest cocaine isn't particularly hard on the system, it's only regular usage which fucks people over, provided people have long enough breaks between a session there are little or no deleterious long term effects, although there is always the minor risk of a stroke or heart attack.

I know what you are saying here James, you just have to watch the frequency...a lad I know got on the 'bugle bus' and didn't get off until he hit 'heart attack roundabout'. He is 25 years old. Its a sobering fact.

Where's the article gone bennie? Only had chance to glance at it yesterday.

Ian 'Mr' McNeilly wrote:Where's the article gone bennie? Only had chance to glance at it yesterday.

BN will be using it, then. Tony knows my password and likes to pull the good stories for the mag. Sneaky bastard.

Time to change your password bennie! The sneaky swine

Let me tell you a little story gentlemen.

I used to work with a sales bloke who we shall call, 'Stephen' for the purposes of this story.

He was about the same age as me at the time around 25 or so, a big loud wide cockney wide-boy, or so it appeared on the surface, a real 'character' as they say. He had more patter and banter than a room full of stand up comedians.

He didn't do any drugs, he didn't drink or smoke, in fact he was totally clean, and then one day, me and my mate Sam who worked with him, both of whom were dabblers shall we say, introduced him to the pleasures of the 'white lady.'

Well, that was the biggest fornicating mistake I ever made. He turned out to be the biggest fiend I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot including myself on occasion. He became not just hooked, but obsessed with the stuff, so much so that he stopped going out, and used to constantly not turn up because he'd get stuck into the boover and basically turned into a complete and utter bullshit artist/asshole.

The reason was he was essentially a dreadfully unhappy bloke. I spent many evenings with him joining him on the slippery slope to madness, but it got to the point where he would even pretend he didn't have any coke and get me round to watch boxing, which it would then turn out wasn't actually on TV at all, and miraculously keep 'finding' bits of coke throughout the evening. I even ended up pleading with him not to keep buying it, and told our mutual dealer not to sell him any more, but he just found somewhere else to get it.

I eventually lost all patience with the geezer, because he was just such hard work to be around, and even lied about his mum having a stroke and all sorts, so I told him he was a sad, fat cokehead prat who had to sort his life out, and never spoke to him again.

The last time I saw him, his house stank, the reason? He was always a bit of a dirty bast, he'd been whoring for years, but now he was plumbing new depths.

Yes indeed, you guessed it, he was now getting whores to come around and piss all over him, and he let his 8 year old son play on the same floor when he came round to stay.

Moral of the story, not sure there is one, but if you're a fucko to begin with, Coke will turn you into a super-fucko.

eff me thats grim.

twat powder as its known in my circle of friends..

jesus thats like somink out of train spotting but charlie version.

We talking crack or coke here McDonnell?

Coke mate, never done crack (well once without knowing it in a spliff, but I would have if I'd known), and never will.

jamesmcdonnell wrote:Let me tell you a little story gentlemen.

I used to work with a sales bloke who we shall call, 'Stephen' for the purposes of this story.

He was about the same age as me at the time around 25 or so, a big loud wide cockney wide-boy, or so it appeared on the surface, a real 'character' as they say. He had more patter and banter than a room full of stand up comedians.

He didn't do any drugs, he didn't drink or smoke, in fact he was totally clean, and then one day, me and my mate Sam who worked with him, both of whom were dabblers shall we say, introduced him to the pleasures of the 'white lady.'

Well, that was the biggest fornicating mistake I ever made. He turned out to be the biggest fiend I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot including myself on occasion. He became not just hooked, but obsessed with the stuff, so much so that he stopped going out, and used to constantly not turn up because he'd get stuck into the boover and basically turned into a complete and utter bullshit artist/asshole.

The reason was he was essentially a dreadfully unhappy bloke. I spent many evenings with him joining him on the slippery slope to madness, but it got to the point where he would even pretend he didn't have any coke and get me round to watch boxing, which it would then turn out wasn't actually on TV at all, and miraculously keep 'finding' bits of coke throughout the evening. I even ended up pleading with him not to keep buying it, and told our mutual dealer not to sell him any more, but he just found somewhere else to get it.

I eventually lost all patience with the geezer, because he was just such hard work to be around, and even lied about his mum having a stroke and all sorts, so I told him he was a sad, fat cokehead prat who had to sort his life out, and never spoke to him again.

The last time I saw him, his house stank, the reason? He was always a bit of a dirty bast, he'd been whoring for years, but now he was plumbing new depths.

Yes indeed, you guessed it, he was now getting whores to come around and piss all over him, and he let his 8 year old son play on the same floor when he came round to stay.

Moral of the story, not sure there is one, but if you're a fucko to begin with, Coke will turn you into a super-fucko.

That certainly beats "just say no".