council house program

I was allowed to carry my very own door key, which was pointless because my mum was always at home anyway.

 

it doesnt matter where you live , your Marmite still stinks

 

You were lucky to have a key!
I didn't get a key for my mums house until after I moved out. Myself and my 4 brothers all had to break in if she was out. We kept a special stick hidden in the front garden, which we put thought the letter box and manipulated the lock with. We all did this for years!

 

poking your stick through the letter box can get you in big trubble

 

Ha ha that just reminded me, that we used to get the little kids to put their arms through the letterbox's to open the doors coz they could reach the latches, so no one was ever locked out round our way whether it your own house or not

 

sounds like my old neighbour before she was evicted ..................

 

I lost my keys once and was so afraid to tell my mum, I used to use a thin paint roller from the shed to hook the latch to let me self in .....................worked for months until one night I had a tap on the shoulder, my mother was none to impressed when she came down stairs to find her teenage daugther in the arms of the law ..................'does this belong to you'

and no this was not the type of stick you were referring too .......................but I did not have an Olive branch

 

Thing is , evicted peeps ,if not at all rehoused will quickly fall ill requiring Hosp. treatment then perhaps, depending on circumstances, cannot be released onto the streets, and so it goes....on. I'm almost tempted to click the Daily Fail link to see if they have a page devoted to said prog with intention of stirring up "righteous "Britain/the empire/colonial days of yesteryear, but so far have resisted (me blood pressure an all )

 

you were lucky to have a door


baby sat an empty pub many years a go in good old Lowie that did not have a door and I was scared beepless

 

We bought our first house in a council estate (nick named the concrete jungle) as it was what we could afford at the time, I can honestly say it was the quietest place I have ever lived (apart from the desert,but that's a different story). It may have looked a bit rough on the outside, but it was warm, solid and beautiful inside and not once did anyone go near my car (got a nice one eventually), motorbike or van.

 

brings back memories of shinning up the drain pipe and hanging of the guttering and getting in the toilet window ,always left on the latch cos it stunk in there...