I live up north now, and over the years I've met lots of Geordies. Some of them are quite nice.
The first time I met a Geordie though, it didn't go too well. I was living in Leeds at the time, in a terraced house, and being keen on football, as I was, I used to like nothing better than to kick a football against a wall. I could go on for hours.
If I didn't have a football, a tennis ball or anything else vaguely football shaped would do. Now I didn't have a dog at the time, so I don't know why I ended up with it, but one day I had managed to acquire a squeaky dog toy in the shape of a hedgehog. This acted in many ways very similar to a ball except with it being shaped like a hedgehog it didn't always roll very well.
One day I was kicking said hedgehog against the side of the end terraced house in our street, and this ferocious old bloke with a Geordie accent came out of his house, and told me to stop kicking that bloody ball against my house, I'm trying to watch TV.
It's not a ball, it's a hedgehog, I said. I always like to get the facts straight, even when I'm being bollocked.
This only seemed to anger him further, and he came out with a string of expletives in Geordie, the gist of which seemed to be not to give him any more cheek or he'd be shoving the bloody hedgehog up my arse.
I sort of steered clear of him after that.
I've met loads of Geordies since and a lot of them are quite nice.
I expect he might have been too, if it hadn't been for the repeated 'bang, squeak, bang, squeak' against his house. Ah well, never mind.
The first time I met a Geordie though, it didn't go too well. I was living in Leeds at the time, in a terraced house, and being keen on football, as I was, I used to like nothing better than to kick a football against a wall. I could go on for hours.
If I didn't have a football, a tennis ball or anything else vaguely football shaped would do. Now I didn't have a dog at the time, so I don't know why I ended up with it, but one day I had managed to acquire a squeaky dog toy in the shape of a hedgehog. This acted in many ways very similar to a ball except with it being shaped like a hedgehog it didn't always roll very well.
One day I was kicking said hedgehog against the side of the end terraced house in our street, and this ferocious old bloke with a Geordie accent came out of his house, and told me to stop kicking that bloody ball against my house, I'm trying to watch TV.
It's not a ball, it's a hedgehog, I said. I always like to get the facts straight, even when I'm being bollocked.
This only seemed to anger him further, and he came out with a string of expletives in Geordie, the gist of which seemed to be not to give him any more cheek or he'd be shoving the bloody hedgehog up my arse.
I sort of steered clear of him after that.
I've met loads of Geordies since and a lot of them are quite nice.
I expect he might have been too, if it hadn't been for the repeated 'bang, squeak, bang, squeak' against his house. Ah well, never mind.
