from: Scott I live in the Anderston area of Glasgow. This place is like a ned 'sanctuary'. Back in February I was heading out to a 24 hour shop late at night and was accosted by a shining example of all things 'ned' outside a local kebab house (named McDoner's of all things). "HAW, YOU - GIE'S FAGS!!!" it demanded, drunk and barely coherant as it lurched toward me. I told him I didn't smoke which surprisingly seemed to placate him and he ambled into the safety of the kebab house doorway. Behind me were three students, two girls and one guy with the guy sandwiched between the two girls. I had a feeling that they would be stopped by my fuckwit friend so stopped to watch the show. The ned leapt out in front of them and shouted "AHHHHHHHHHHH, YOUZ DIDNAE THINK 'A SAW YOUZ FANNIES COMIN'!!!" before swinging a roundhouse at the bespectacled guy with the girls. Thankfully, due to the cretin's inebriated state he completely missed and instead his head collided full force against the pavement. When I had purchased my goods from the shop I actually had to step over him on the way home as he was completely sparked out. Priceless...
from: Jamie Me and my brother were waiting for our parents on Union Street in Aberdeen earlier today. My brother was reading the news on his camera phone. He had been reading for about 10 seconds when two bammettes (sengas) walked up to us. The first shoved her middle finger over the lens of the camera and shouted something along the lines of "What the f*** do you think yar dein?" the second, who was a few metres behind the first bam shouted "aye, ya f***ing pervert" as she walked past. I realised that both of these bams must have thought we were taking photos of them, and they must have got a little camera-shy.
from: Michael As the email suggests, I am now a student in Glasgow, and moved up here from deepest darkest ayrshire. And guess where the accomodation people stuck me? Maryhill. Although it has to be sed this part of Maryhill does seem to be rather lacking in the ned department, in the little town of New Cumnock you couldn't leave the house without seeing a ned, usually the wee-est of the wee neds. The motto of NC is "Ah'll get ma big brither oantae you!" The best way to tackle the "MOSHER!" (even tho i look fuck all like one, I do happen to enjoy the music - they must have espionage) chants from them is to simple look astonished and say: "Oh come on, surely you can do better than that! I know you have it in you! OK look I'll wait right here until you do..." then just stand expectantly, they get hopelessly confused and run away!!! And now for a story. Me and my friends at Cumnock Academy (the larger town by the not very originally named town of my home) would spend our breaks in the warmth of the music department. Not rehersing or anything, just sitting there not being cold or wet. So in our senior year we began to notice that a crowd of first year neds seemed to be shouting at the window on a regular basis. So we opened the window to hear their "abuse". None of their early slaggings in particular were good enough to remember. So eventually we started retorting as their insults got boring and repetative. This soon developed into exchange of threats and chasing them. It was also great as at least twice a week we would catch one of the group of ten or so alone in a corridor - not so big now are they? - and scare the daylights out of him just by doing the typical older ned thing and shutting up and staring at him! The climax of this interchange of ideas was one that was probably insanely over the top. I personally got involved in an insult bout with the ringleader. He bravely called me a "mitherfucker" (motherfucker) so i brought myself to there level and replied: "And your mum knows best" with a huge grin. His retort: "Mah mither's died!" (pronounced deed - dead). I assumed he was lying, as he is a little ned losing in a slagging match, so I quipped: "Hey, just means she can't say no!" That was the winner. If it's true, I probably scarred him for life - little dick would deserve it though. They never did bother us again after that one.
from: Nicole I have had many memorable bus journeys but one will live with me forever. It was a Firday night and i was absoulutley shattered from my hard day at work. The bus was absoulutley mobbed and the only seat was up the stairs at the very back of the bus. I sat down hesitantly as there seemed 2 b around 5 neds and neddettes (aka Sengas) sitting "menching" on the seats. I have came across my fair share of stupid neds but not as stupid as this lot. The main senga ned said to the wee cheeky ned "Flanny whit dus the Jay in yur name stand fur" and little Flanny replied in his squeeky not reached puberty voice "Genius". I nearly chocked on my tounge trying 2 hold the laugh in and was forcing myself 2 think of sad things, anything 2 stop me from laughin at young Flannys reply. But what astounded me even more was that this young trackie wearing senga replied " aww get tae fuck ya dafty whit dus it reely stand for". I was absoulutley dumbfounded, Genius starts with G u fucking moron not Jay. This all happend in the space of 5 minute "by ih way". Then big mental Mick jumped up and announced 2 the whole bus " theres that fuckin bam tht a kickeds cu*t in last week" and then took 2 banging his bottle of buckfast bottle(which was full) on the glass window. I don't know what made young Micheal think that it wouldn't smash but the look of disgust, saddness, anger on his face when it did smash was priceless. His 4 quid bottle of cheap shit that would get him out his face that night was all over him and his friends. The abuse Micheals ned friends hurled at him was highly amusing and it made my journey all the more enjoyable.
from: Nick
I moved back to London 6 years ago after 5 mostly enjoyable years up there at Glesga university and then working in sunny Whiteinch. Over the piece I mainly lived in the Maryhill area so, as you can imagine I had some memorable run-ins with neds despite being 6’2” and 200lbs. I also encountered some real charmers in town and in the delightful East End of the Shitty, sorry, City. My favorite Nedcounters are as follows –
My very first encounter was (and this seems to be a common one) having bricks chucked at me as I walked home along Maryhill Road (just past what used to be “The Buttney”). I’ve grown up my whole life on council shcemes in various English cities and had had my fair share of fighting etc as a youth but being new to the city I was slightly taken aback and a little scared by these Kappa Trackied fools. Fortunately one of my new Fresher mates was something of a psycho from Aberdeen and gave the 4-5 wee bams in question a good chasing culminating in a right kicking for one of them outside “The Redan” Pub. Anyone who knows Aberdonians will realize that this was probably the high point for my pal of his 4 years in Glesga… although he did brick the windows of a famous west-end punch once but that’s a different story!!! Anyway, this was the beginning of my realization that the only way to deal with these little scum bags was to meet fire with fire.
The incident that confirmed this was when going to a Celtic game with a pal who had come up from London to see me. I was on crutches at the time with a badly broken ankle and my pal is probably the world’s politest and most harmless man. Imagine my horror when leaving the pub we had been pre-game drinking in 2 minutes after him having been for a pish my pal has agreed to share a cab with 2 fully grown dressed neds to celtic park. Needless to say various threats were made within 2 minutes “I’ll fucking stamp your ankle tae fuck” etc etc etc. They didn’t actually punch me but my pal was punched a few times – needless to say the Cabby did fuck all. We ended up getting out the cab in the middle of the East end, abused and bricks thrown by degenerate children, in the rain, on crutches – lovely!
A year or so later, sitting in my front room on Maryhill Road with my (now) wife and some pals we were disturbed by the sound of some doughtnut trying to throw a brick thru my double glazed window. In a slightly pissed state my pal and I decided to pursue these wanks (I had recently fully adopted the zero tolerance policy for neds). I took the back route up into Ruchill whilst my pal took the front approach down Maryhill road. Unfortunately for my pal whilst at the time I was still a pretty fit ex-athlete he was a 17st fat bastard, and he had made wrong/right choice of direction in pursuing the neds. I finally made it back onto Maryhill Road to see my pal who to his credit had caught one of the neds aim the softest, most exhausted kick in the head of all time at terrified Goon ned. My pal then followed this up with the priceless line “away and fuck off then, I’ve no even got the energy to kick yer fucking head in!”. I was laughing too hard to bring anything else to the equation so the terrified Ned ran off into the distance. All of this slap bang in the middle of the road at the top of Queen Margaret Drive – superb!
Living in Glesga taught me many valuable lessons as well as allowing me to bring one of it’s best looking women back down to civilization when I left. Whilst all my friends in London are terrified of surly youths lurking on street corners you will be pleased to know I have carried over my Ned zero tolerance policy. In July walking home at around 7pm I was accosted by a bunch of hoodie wearing fools who have harassed friends and my wife thru the summer, I was delighted to have the chance to smash the 14/15 year old leader as hard as I could in the jaw. Most amusing was the way his “crew” evaporated into the evening immediately leaving me with plenty of space to slap him about a bit more and tell him a few home truths Funnily enough they’ve stopped hanging round our street corner.
from: anon one of my friends worked as a youth worker, the project took the lads on an outing to Blair Drummond safari Park. It was a brand new bus so he was on strict instuction no smoking on the bus. But as per before they left the area our younger generation starting building joints and causing their usal grief. By the time they reached the safari park the driver had enough and stoped the bus to let them out the bus for a fag all of a sudden a geep came screaching to a halt and the park ranger came belting out shouting what the Fxxk you doing the lions the lions!! and true to form one of the guys replyed " Fxxk off ya nugget well no touch your lions".
from: anon I'd like to tell you a story about a reformed ned. Thats me of course. I used to be a ned. Yes, I hung about street corners drinking buckfast on a Friday night. I vandalised cars and property, gave abuse to people, set things on fire, threw things at windows....you name it. However, I've grown into a relatively well-rounded individual with a very responsible job. I think the realisation struck home after a set of very ropey standard grade results when I was 15, and the immortal words from my Mother saying that I'd end up working in a pub. Not that theres anything wrong with working in a pub. So, I decided to buckle down and make something of my life. So here I am ten years later with 7 highers, a diploma and a degree. I don't live in the West of Scotland anymore, but when I do return, and I go out I can often find myself slipping back into my old ways (especially after 16 pints). Then I think to myself "Nah man, thats pure outta order byriway". I even wear glasses now and read books. I'll always remember my ned days, but now I'm a responsible tax-paying citizen of the United Kingdom. Lets hope theres a ned-reformation in the future so that we can all walk the streets safely, without the fear of being chibbed. Thank you for reading.
from: Baz Sadly I've had many experiences of neds from my football team which folded this year, mostly because the neds in it were too busy boozin and shaggin burds to turn up to the training and the games. Still the 8 years I spent in the team were fun, there was never a dull moment. Once up at Coatbridge there was this big fat ref and he just got ripped shitless, which he didnt help by facing up to his abuser with the ever so slightly camp cry of "have you got a problem with the way I am." I think it was his 1st game or something and after he made mistake after mistake at the end of the game he was surrounded by both teams. Ill never forget the opposing keeper charging out his goal singing Who ate all the pies. Priceless. Another time we were playing in Allanton I think(a total shithole) an this wee cheeky ned and this old guy (presumably his grandad!?) started abusing our keeper who was always a bit dodgy. Goes without saying that his dad was a bit pissed off. He's a nice guy but a bit of a ned himself and he ended up chasing this wee guy and the old ned down into the scheme. I've never seen a pensioner run so fast! There has been so much more that happened but the 1st time I realised my team mates were neds was when at the age of 8 or 9 they started throwing bottles through the showers(which seperated the changing rooms) at the opposing team. I would have to say the weirdest thing i had ever seen was playing the notorious partick thistle who were probably the "hardest cunts" in the league. After the game one of the neds was picked up in a Porsche Cayenne. Whether his dad was a drug dealer or something I dont know but it was surreal. The worst place I've played in was probably Larkhall where the outside of the changing rooms was painted with a huge red hand of ulster. Some schemes had their pavements painted red white and blue and the inside of the changing room was covered in loyalist slogans. An they wonder how why people grow up to be bigots! The most surprise place I visited was 'Easterhoose'. We were all expecting bad things, even the wideos in my team, but even though it was a bit run down everyone was really nice to us an we got sandwitches crisps biscuits and juice after the game(in the local gym for some reason) . Not all neds areas are bad, but you should have seen the "E-hoose boyz" after they saw the food, they jumped on it and within about a minute all of it was eaten. You could see them walking walkin out the place with there pockets bulging, but what can you expect it's there mentality. In conclusion I think the ned can be a funny to admire from a distance. But what can you expect if you are a goth of course the are going to slag you I do it myself. Now theres no more team so I'm having to start playing in Edinburgh. Hopefully there can be many more ned adventures to follow, but if you want a place to admire the ned Lanarkshire is a good a place as Glasgow.
from: graeme This had to be the funniest bus journey of my life but you really had to be there to see how halarious it was.Last night I got on the bus and the only two other passengers were two sqeeky neds 'up da bk!' of the bus so i decided to sit relatively near the front to avoid any 'slaggin's' they may give to me,an inoccent member of the public.Anyway our route was into Kilmarnock bus station and en route is a one way system road;unfortunately a man (obviously not from these parts) had took a wrong turn somewhere and was heading the wrong way down the one way system.But fortunately the man soon realised and the bus driver stopped to let the man reverse and turn;any normal person would silently think to themself 'good job the poor man did not cause a crash' but not the two neds 'up de bk!'....these two 'nutterz' said to one and other 'whn wi pass'um letz gi'um the fingerz'. My god they are utter twats thinking that they have gained 'ned points' ( thats just browny points for neds) from each other for doing such a crazy,devious deed! Soon,we pulled into Kilmarnock bus station and people traveling to Darvel (where i was going to attend a party of my girlfriends' mothers work-mate ,sounds distant but i was only going to keep her company;and also this party was in a place in darvel where people actually have lawn-mowers) got on and i have never seen a more disgusting load of people in my life.Every person that got on was either extremely over weight,or had only a couple of teeth left or had a cap at a 45 degree angle!One stood out from the rest as he had all of these things in his apperance and as this wasn't enough he looked as if he had an IQ which could only be described with a decimal fraction,classic example of a 'goon' ned. All journey i tried to cut my breathing down to a minimum so that did not catch something but it was no use as i started to cough minutes later.On the way many people got off but one person who was in a hurry leaped off the bus and smacked her head bang in the wing mirror of the bus knocking it out of place,all the manky scum gave out a loud belch of laughter as she fell stunned to the ground and i could not help but give out a snigger;to add to the situation the driver reacted quickly and got out of his box and I thought he was going to the aid of the person but no;he fixed the mirror and then sat back down and drove away as the woman stumbled to her feet.Either the bus driver was ignorant or he was scared of catching something as he had not had his jabs that month to protect him from all the diseases the old and the worthless people bring onto the bus.Obviously the now greater group of neds found it appropriate to give the fingers to the unfortunate woman as we drove by. The cherry on the cake was all the neds were 'huns' and started singing anti-catholic chants in response to Celtics 4-4 draw in the first game of the season,the funny thing is that they have no interest in the Chisrtian religion.
from: andrew
A word of advice: if you're into 5 a side football, and you live in
Edinburgh, you might be tempted to enter the competitions at the Power
League at Sighthill. If you do, however, you've got to be aware that
the
ned-to-normal-person ratio is phenominally high. My friends and I
entered a
team about a year ago, and proceded to become incredibly unpopular with
the
local teams (for "local", read "ned"). Maybe because we won more games
than
we lost. Maybe because my teammates were a bunch of hacking bastards (I
played in goals), I don't know.
Over the weeks, our team came up against a certain guy named "Smithy"
several times. Let's get this out of the way right now - he had the
appearance of a complete f***ing NERD, spindly arms and all. At least,
that's what I thought. So, one night when he appeared to take umbrage
at the
fact that our team was beating his comfortably, and tried to start a
fight
with a mate of mine (who is permanently bemused, but was even more so
that
night), I shouted at him (putting on a "mental" accent, because I
really
don't look particularly intimidating, less so with my softly-spoken
manner),
"The f*** d'you think you're doing, ya speccy c**t?".
Not a good move on my part. Smithy stumbles over to me, grotty Hibs
tracksuit and all (I swear - the dozens of times I saw him, he was
never
without it. Being a Jambo, this hardly endeared him to me) and thumps
me in
the face with a patented ned punch. Fortunately, one of my mates' dad
is a
non-shit-taking policeman, who was watching our game. Result - new
tracky
bottoms required for Mr Smithy.
another...
My mate, my sister and I were standing on North Bridge in Edinburgh,
waiting for a bus, when a small group of sengas approached us and - for
no
reason - started threatening us. One of the more memorable threats was
"Ah'll gouge yer f***ing eyes out with a rusty knife, ya bamstick!" Far
from
enquiring as to what a "bamstick" actually is, my sister (who was
having a
bad day, I recall) promptly grabbed the main senga (head ned?), upended
her
and shoved her head first into a nearby bin. This hilarious action
prompted
the neds to follow us onto our bus and into the shop we were heading
for,
before being chucked out when my mate "accidentally" barged one of them
into
an extremely tumble-prone display. Still makes me laugh today...
from: anon
It all began on brisk, school sciving day on the 14th of Febuary 2001. I am what the neds call a "Marylin Manson". In other words a
goth. Which, was not true. It's all because you wear regular clothes. Anyway, I was waiting in line to see Slipknot appear at the the
Buchanan street Virgin Mega stores. There was a huge queue and it was taking forever to get anywhere near the start. All of a sudden
myself and my friends were accosted by what can only be described as a ned. At first I was rather hesitant to speak to him but he didn't
seem to feel the same. Our conversation began like this:
"Awright there troops! What the F*ck is going on here?!" he said sounding intrigued "We are waiting for a band to appear but they are
taking forever."
At this point I was waiting on some goth slaggings but I was soon to be shocked.
"F*ck them then! Bhoys, ma names John Paul Tierney and I cannae stand to see yous like this!" "Glad to hear it man" "You ken wit? I am
gonnae f*ckin go in there and smash there heeds through the f*ckin windaes!" "Thats cool. Thanks man! You know there are nine of them!"
"I dinnae f*cking care. A'll beat the sh*t outta aw ae them!! But a'll dae it wen a get back! I need ma buckey" Catch yes later!" "See
ya later bud!"
It was the most helpful ned I ever met and to this day I have found a whole new respect for them.
from: Mark I once picked up 4 neds from Toryglen in my taxi and they wanted me to take them to McDonalds in Govanhill then back "tae the sirkis". Once all 4 were back in the taxi with their happy meals I calmy reminded them not to eat in the car as they french fries stink the place oot. All agreed that this was reasonable as it was less than 5 minutes back tae the sirkis. As I turned onto Aitkenhead Road I heard the unmistakable rustle of paper and chip chewing followed by the smell of synthetic potato and turned around to find the small ned tucking into his chips. I then asked if he was unable to understand what I said to the group back at the mentioned fastfood outlet and his reply was "aye fuckin oright chill oot man!" So on a very wet november night, 4 neds fae Toryglen were left to walk the last mile with their happy meals in some of the heaviest rain I'd seen in years. I know I might sound like a right sad cunt but surely these neds learned a valuable lesson that night. Or maybe they just hate taxi drivers even more.
from: Chris
Before I moved to Glasgow my ned close encounters were few and far between. Two in particular
stand out. Both happened at T in the park. The first was in 1999 at around 6p.m on the Friday
evening in the festival campsite. After drinking a few of said T i decided to go and take a
"Micheal Fish". We were pitched a fair distance from the toilets and being a lazy bastard I
decided to micturate up against a fence.
While mid pee, I turned round to see a ned
staggering towards me. I couldn't help noticing that he was pretty wasted and asked him if he
was alright. He turned round and informed me that he had taken 5 eccies and a couple of trips
and that he was off to hang around the shows. I gave him a quick "nice one mate" before
shuffling off, not before noticing he had pished all over his breeks!
The second came a couple
of years later. While sitting outside my tent strumming a guitar
with a couple o me buddys a guy waering a Rangers tracky came over and sat down. "Mind if ah
sit wae youse boys". Not wanting any trouble nobody objected. The ned introduced himself,
"Mah name's Sloppy by the way". Fuckin hell, i thought, thats some moniker! I continued
playing for a while before Sloppy asked if he could have a wee go on the guitar. I handed
over the guitar expecting a "sloppy" rendition of Wonderwall. What followed defied belief. He
proceeded in playing a note perfect Castles Made of Sand by Jimi Hendrix. He then went on to
play a handful of pretty impressive tunes before handing me the guitar "cheers boys ahm
away". I saw him again later in the weekend but decided not to converse as he was having a
conversation with the side of a burger van.
from: Euan
One lovely day in june I was in glasgow shopping, I went to the station after a good look around the shops. I got
there to see that my train to edinburgh was in 20 minutes, so I thought I might aswell sink a pint, might make the
journey a little more relaxed. So I walked into the bar. I heard a little ruckas over in the smoking side of the bar
but thought nothing of it. I stood at the bar and asked the barmaid for a pint of kronenberg. The little ruckas is now
flairing up a bit. As she turns to get my pint an empty pint glass just misses my head and smashes behind the bar. I
turned round to see, (to my surprise((not))) a bunch of ned's! The bar maid ran round and grabed me and escorted me
out the back door and told me to run. Luckily the train was waitin at a platform, so I boarded. The neds didnt get
through to the train, but what concerns me is, was it something i did?! lol! Needless to say I got hammered on the
train to make up for lost time and calm my nerves.
I kinda wish the glass had hit me, then I could have retaliated. But knowing my luck I would have got 'chibbed'.
from: anon
I would like to relate a story of neddness that hapened several years ago before the introduction of the burberry check
, it was when I knew the neds as "innits".. nawwatameen. I was working for a company that manufactured mens accessories,
tye pins, watches, cufflinks that sort of thing and we were busy so the boss got on to an agency which sent us two neds
one reasonable dumb the other,..well i think the dumb one was his adult in charge. So i put them to work, the job was
you take large plastic bags containing various styles of loose cufflinks and put two of them into the nice red velvet
box ready for shipping to the shops so i left them to it and at the end of the day i checked their work, there was piles
of red boxes everywhere, good they had been busy so i did a quick quality check and found that in the first box i
opened there was a red cufflink paired with a blue one, then again there was a racing car paired with a football one
etc, etc, i could only look at them. It was so obvious what they had to do, that it showed just how dumb these guys
were, then the penny dropped for them and i was accused of not explaining the job properly to them....
Later on i heard them discussing how he treated his senga, i honestly thought he was joking and was doing a pete and dud
routine but he was genuine, he was described how he had treated her that saturday night to a meal at a restaurant which
was blinding, candles on the table and everything, we had prawn cocktail to start,nice, nice, very nice, then had the
steak dinner with mushroms and tomato`s on the side and roast potatos, which was nice, very nice and to round it of they
had viennetta ice cream for afters.. then the punch line, where was this then, at the harvester restaurant of the
byepass.
from: Nicolas
I grew up in Wester Hailes, Edinburgh, then spent 3 years studying in Glasgow and now live and study in Bath. Bath being
the nice little town that it is doesnt have to many undesriables but speaking to the locals you'd think it was the ned
capital of the world. I'd spend hours telling tales of the "Sighthill crew" or the sheer jaw-dropping sights and sounds
of Sauchihall street at 3am on a Friday night. Finally I have something to show them that 3 kids in caps, hanging round
a bus shelter is not something to get scared over.
During my year here in Bath only once have I had any problems with neds and what fun we had with it.
Saturday night, heading home from the union with fellow Scot, John.
From a distance I spot the gang of about 7-8 neds, being slightly intoxicated at the time I dont take much notice and we
continue stumbling homeward bound. Once we get within 20 yards its clear we're not welcome, loud chatter and laughter
turns to dead-silence and growls as we approach. As we hold our breath and walk through the crowd in the akward silence
I'm waiting for something..anything.
Alas we seem to get by unscathyed, thinking to myself "fuck, if we'd been in wegieland that could've been pretty nasty."
Just as we're walking off, a voice comes from the group "You boys alright?"
Are we alright? Are we? Fuck. Back home thats fighting talk, seriously it is, its an engage you in conversation starter
then find an excuse to kick the shit out of you thing, or just to throw you off for a second while they blindside you.
Its a smart one as well, you cant get out of it, answer it and face the consequnces, ignore it and face even worse. I
muster up my best Glasga' accent, hoping they'll think I'm some mad Jock who loves Drinkin and a Fightin.
"Aye, naw bad pal, how boot you boys, ya's dain aright."
Stunned silence, its worked, they mumble about being "alright" and ask something about us being Scottish. I'm just about
to open my mouth for a friendly we-mean you-no-harm reply when John gets in-
"Aye, fuckin right we ur, ye got a problem wie that like"
Were the fuck did that come from, John is the biggest self-confessed coward on the planet and despite his size and
hardish apperance (read big fat guy with a beard) is a well spoken, avoid violence at all costs and never be relied on
in a fight kinda guy.
I fear the worst, while both of us are a fair bit bigger than all them I'm not really into getting stabbed or something
equaly exciting. That and there was a fair few, being bigger doesnt count for much when its 8 on 2.
I await the reply with baited breath.
"No problem ear mate"
We turn and set about walking home again, waiting for the pitter-patter of Rebok footsteps but they never come.
I like to think it was our hard-as-nails look, or our take-no-shit fear-no-one attitude to life. In reality it was a
lifetime of dealing with proper neds, like living in Bosnia all your life then moving to Britain, sure there's still
drugs, violence and gangs but its like Disneyland compared to what your used to.
Me and John have since come up with the idea of Glasgow Survival Weekends, taking people from round the country then
having them spend 3 days and nights dealing with the utter creme de la creme of neds. 3 days in the holy city of neds,
the ned mecca, the ned Jerusalum, the centre of the ned kingdom. This would be the only way in teaching the people of
this country the ways in dealing with the ned. (Glasgow locals take note, there's no solution at this time for your
neds, you'll just have to go on suffering. Or move.)
from: Andrew Two friends and I were catching a train on a Friday evening from Glasgow Central to Crossmyloof, after a few drinks in the City Centre (No, we weren’t in the Moon, although in the past we did frequent the legendary Bonkers for a bit of Ned-baiting). No sooner had the train departed, but it came to an abrupt stop half-way over the bridge which spans the River Clyde. The Driver emerged from his cabin and peered out onto the track, where there was a commotion of some kind. The whole train were now on their feet, peering onto the track. The driver jumped out and dragged a young ned-female onto the train. When I say young, I mean about 20 (amazing she wasn’t pushing a pram). Her attire was distinctive, as there was not a kappa motif to be seen. Her jacket did look suspiciously like Burberry however. In front of the whole train the Driver asked her what she was doing on a busy railway bridge over the River Clyde. She replied ‘The Taxi Dropped me there’. At this point my friends and I erupted with laughter, along with the rest of the carriage. My friend David, tactful as ever, commented rather loudly that it was not a taxi she belonged in but Leverndale (the mental asylum). This set the blatantly drunk (buckled?) girl off and she accused the driver of accosting her. He took her into the cabin, presumably to prevent her any more embarrassment. However, a hush fell upon the train as we strived to hear their conversation. She demanded the telephone for Scot Rail Complaints, saying she was going to sue them. As the train pulled into Crossmyloof, we literally fell off the train, as we had been laughing so hard.
from: Natalie
I have two wonderful memories of Neds, which, since they both occured in the space of a month, is pretty impressive.
The first one occured on a bus from Leeds to Bradford at the end of August this year. I was sat, on the top deck with my
boyfriend and a friend. Now, this happened to be the bus that takes the long route, so a twenty minute train journey
takes over an hour on the bus. All of a sudden, the filthiest little chavster and a Senga Goon got on the bus and sat
immediately in front of me. Filthy Chavster (whom I shall call wepe, for reasons to be explained later) begins going on
and on and on about how long the bus takes. After ten minutes, it was clear we had either entered Hell or purgatory. The
Wepe was going on and on about how much she hated 'her bloke' and how he hadn't gven her money in ages. She then
proceeds to play all the ringtones on her phone, then gets a call. I have to explain why she was called the wepe at this
point. You know how white people who are insistent that they are black and adopt black mannerisms etc are called Wiggas?
Well, in Bradford we have a high population of young asian guys who modify their cars and dress in common ned attire.
We call them Tepes, so it seemed fitting that this girl should be called the Wepe.
Ok, so she takes this phone call, and all through it, all she was saying was 'oh bebe, I miss yooo.Yoo gon'see me tomorrohh?
You pwomise? You gon'giv me somme
money when ah see yoo?' This was all too much. I tapped her waterbuffalo-esque friend on the shoulder and said to her
'Look, tell your friend that if she shuts up until we get to Bradford, I'll give her some bloody money!' This was met
with cheers by the whole of the top deck, including some Tepes sat halfway down the bus. People were actually offering
her money, and talking about setting up a collection for it. The funniest thing was, she was so dense, she didn't notice
the Tepes laughing at her or anything! Even when I made a phone call and explained (loudly) the situation I was in, she,
about one foot away, didn't register. She then came out with some gems, like 'No right ya see, ah ent wahht cos like, me
mahms whatt, but me dad, ees Afganistani' - which made my friend stand up and say 'for God's sake girl, the term is
Afghan, and no he isn't, look at you! You just don't know who he is!!' Which was again, met with silence. I only saw her
once since. Shame really, she was such a laugh.
The other Ned experience I had was in school a couple of weeks ago. I do have to say, it was sheer genius on my behalf.
As I passed a group of about twenty girls, one of them made the random noise it is in their habit to do. I think it is
supposed to express disgust, it is a sound like 'urrrrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh'. I turned, and looked at the
offending Ned, and said 'I know you may LOOK like a Hippo in distress, but there's no need to SOUND like one too.' Then
walked off. I thought it was all over, until TEN, I kid you not, TEN minutes later, they came up to where I was sat,
having a quiet cig, and said 'Wot did yoo justsay to sherelle?'. Ten minutes. Fantastic. I just repeated myself, and
then they said 'were yoo avin a go at er?'... Cue much laughing from me and my friend.
I do find the best response to the 'Arr yoo a mosha/goff?' question is 'Do I look like a mosher/Goth?' If they say 'no'
say 'well then, why the fuck are you asking me?' If they say yes, it's bestto respond with 'Well, you look fucking
stupid, what does that say about you?' They can never come up with a response.
from: anon I work in a shop that sells furniture and various interior design nonsense. The other day the phone rang, and one of my fellow shop monkeys answered the phone very politely, looked bemused for a second, said "Right mate" and hung up. He dismissed it as a prank call and went back to work. Of course, the phone rang again, and this time it fell to me to answer it. I picked up the phone to be greeted by a charming lad telling me that "Some wee dick jist hung up oan me, wide basturt." I asked him what the problem was and he replied "Aye, ah fink your shoap is deceivin' (big word for a ned) ra public. Ah boat some pouffes (pronounced "poofies" in the Glasgow fashion, of course) and they're no very poofy." I told him he was very witty. "Aye, well, whit're YOU gonnae dae aboot it??" I love how he seemed to be convinced there was nothing I could do but put up with his hilarious shite, completely ignoring the fact that I could hang up. Which I did.
From: Leigh
A short story but not less amusing. Here was me and my (then) bf were in a nice little dj "shoap" in glasgow, few
months ago, happily browsing some stuff. On doing so i noticed the wee cheeky next to me fiddling with a good £1500
worth of gear (probably calculating how much he could fit in his uniform berghaus) and eyeing up the vinyl interjecting
"aw man a pure love this song man!" to his wee handy next to him. His twin perhaps?
Thinking nothing of it, and having an inward chuckle, i pointed this out to my bf and he too laughed. Wee Mento Pie
Boab decides to finally talk to the sales assistant pointing out that "ma big br'er whants pin fur his decks, told his
they'd be a couple of quid" The nice sales asst. pointed out that they'd be at least a tenner. To which he was thrown
with "aw whit man no fuckin way! That's pure crap. A wiz told they'd coast 3 quid!" and was obviously getting angry at
this. Not thinking his buckie-riddled brother misinformed him - but its the shop's fault anyway. So wee cheeky stomped
out but not before hailing his final words in the door "see you, you're a prick by ra way" and went on his merry way.
Probably to look for an innocent to give a scheme booting to aid his anger.
Maybe his brother shouldve got off his drunk arse and went to the shop himself, instead of making him look like a total
tube. We still laugh about it.
Thanks cheeky!
From: Susanna The other day I was on the underground train coming back from University when a Senga and her pal got on at Ibrox. I felt vaguely uneasy because the carriage was otherwise empty, and there's me sitting reading a book that wasn't about Jordan or Victoria Beckham. I was hoping to go unnoticed, so when she asked me "Where d'ye get yer shoes?" my heart sank. I fully expected that as soon as the train doors shut she'd whip out a knife and demand my Converses with menaces. What could I do but answer? She proceeded to question me on the price, age and provenance of my shoes, before wandering off to chat to her pal. A lucky escape I felt. Although I still can't work out why she was so interested in them if she wasn't planning on taxing a pure brainboax uv a Uni student of her footwear...
From: Janet Livingston, in West Lothian was built to take the overspill from Glasgow, so although it is geographically closer to Edinburgh than Glasgow, the neds are Glasgow neds, and the accent is almost the same! I was travelling on a bus through Livingston one day. There was nobody waiting to get on at the stop that was just coming into sight, so the driver didn't intend stopping. Suddenly, a ned, complete with Burberry cap and white trackie bottoms, started to run towards the bus stop. The driver very kindly slowed down, and stopped just past the stop, opening the doors for the ned to get on the bus. The ned ran to the doors and shouted "I'm nae gettin on your f****** bus" and threw something on the bus, then ran away. Another three neds suddenly appeared, laughing and jeering, and they all ran. Everybody sitting on the bus craned their heads to see what it was that the ned had thrown on the bus. Even if they couldn't see, they soon found out, as it was a stink bomb! I was getting off shortly, but I pitied the people who were staying on until Edinburgh, as the bus was absolutely stinking!
From: anon
Just last week I got off the bus and was greeted with a culmination of yorkshire slang (I haven't learnt the local
lingo, but it was pretty insulting I imagine) and then a request was made that I go and buy them some "tins" of
carling. I thought this was my perfect opportunity to get one over the local lads (I was a little drunk after a union
event) and well after taking their money I shouted from the other side of the street "you'll never get this back you
f**king wasters" and I began running. Sadly I got about 10 feet before being literaly stopped dead by a group of
bigger, harder, harier guys with more gold, more genuine burbery and possibly minimum wage jobs. I was expecting the
kicking of a life time, odds of 6 + another 12 or so against 2 drunk students don't go down too well. Then something
absolutley hillarious happened, the poilce came for some reason!! I was saved! They all disperesed pretty quick, and a
few who shouted abuse got put in the back of the van and probably carted off, I made a quick exit.
The next day when I was £10 up on the local cru I spotted the new graffiti "PC morris is a pure batty bully" right.
From: Ronnie
This could be a "Chewin The Fat" sketch but it actually happened on a late night bus from Partick into the town...
1st Ned: "You're a pure dobber byraway."
2nd Ned: "Awwhawwhaww naw, you're a fukn dobber."
1st Ned: "Naw...YOU'RE a dobber". [slugs at a bottle of Bucky].
2nd Ned: "What is a dobber anyway, big man." [1st ned is all of 5' 4"]
1st Ned:" Ah hink it's a hoarse".
Me: Tries to contain myself from laughing outloud.
2nd Ned: "Naw ya nugget, that's Dobbin. Ah hink it's a Johnny Bag or sumthin'."
1st Ned: "Well anywey you're a pure dobber byraway."
2nd Ned: "Shut up ya fanny."[slugs at bottle of Bucky]
1st Ned [to me]: What are you laughing at ya pure diddy?
Me: "I just remembered an old joke." [Collapses into convulsions of laughter].
from: anon It is interesting to observe that neds (or scallys as they are known in Cumbria) aren't something restricted to the co-op near my house. Just the other week, I had a rather humerous incident with 2 young lads, one half naked and suspiciously orange, and his very odd looking accomplice, dressed with a brilliant combination of fred perry and rockports. As my friend and I were walking back to my car, the 2 gentlemen in question struck up a conversation. Mr. orange asked "where you two from" both coming from the utter shit hole that is brampton, we told him and his reply was a touch more hostile "bramptons full of sheep shaggers". I decided to ignore him, and just as they were walking off Mr. orange who was the spokesman for the pair came out with the comment of "you shag sheep you greebo sheep shagger". My reply was full of wit, but the pair didn't appreciate it when I said "I havent shagged half as many sheep as you've shagged guys". They didn't take kindly to this and hurried along to intercept us, swearing away and offering us a choice between "getting laid out cold" or having my "ribs broke". Eventualy I told them to fuck of or I would kill them (having seen the helpful giude on your website) and that's when the trouble all began. Fred perry (I think that was his name, it was on his sweater) pushed me and then again, after I had issued him with a warning that he would get hurt if that happend again. The pair didn't actually realise, I'm pretty hard for a "greebo" and wasted years doing karate. Eventualy I just said fine and gave Fred a good punch, I'm not too sure, but I think I probably broke his nose. Then the good friend as ever, Mr. orange ran off shouting torrents of cumbrian abuse that I didnt understand. And thus concludes my wonderful story, you've got to laugh.
From: anon
I've had two very memorble encounters. The first one involved me and my friend wandering around his now ex-girlfriend's
area (can't really remember the place) but anyways we were walking along and I see this shadow appear in front of us
and I hear the near cries of "Aww whit" and such. The ned staggers forward and shouts "Hey yous!" To which we turned
around, now we were talking about exams or something and he then says "Whit the fuck r u sayin about us?!" He was
obviously steaming (very drunk for you non-glasgow people). My friend's (at that time) gf merely replied "We were
talking about school." To which he bellowed "U ca'in me a fuckin liar?!" My friend then steps in and says "No, you
must've misheard..." but before he could finish, the ned obviously seemed tired to try and find an excuse to fight (like
they need one) and swung for him, unfortunately my friend was pretty fast and ducked, to which the ned was confused
about as his drunken hook must've always hit its target. So he stumbles back and shouts something like "Div, Kev, lads
get em!" To my suprise one of the more bigger neds (a combonation of a goon/dressed) actually pulled some of them back
and shouted "Leave 'em alane!" But he couldn't grab all of them, so we ran as fast as we could, luckily we got to my
friend's gf's house in time. They hung about for a while and then left.
The second encounter was a bit more hilarious, I was walking by the Cathouse to see a group of 4 - 5 neds walk past
saying things like "Fuckin goff's!" and such, so one of the neds must've recongnised one of the queue members from
school (or maybe he just felt like hitting someone) but he punched one of the members of the crowd on the head and his
pals obviously seeing how much of a "hard man" he was, laughed. Unfortunately, their laughter was cut short by a belt
to the face from another member of the queue, and then they tried to fight back, but hitting a 'goff' when there's about
another 80 odd 'goff's' queued up at the same place, is not a sensible idea. So they received a pummeling from the
whole queue, which was quite entertaining for me and my friends.
From: Ewan
I never thought I'd ever write anything PRAISING neds but odd things
do happen. My friend was walking through newlands park late one night
(quite why he thought this was a good idea is beyond me) when a group of
black english guys started following him. Again, what english people were
doing in newlands park is also beyond me, but I digress. Eventually one of
them tripped my friend up, and upon standing up he squared up to him.
Another daft move. He got shoved to the ground and sat up to receive a boot in
his face. Following that the rest of this gang started joining in, and who
knows where they'd have stopped if what can only be called a cross between
a leader ned and a friendly head. Up stepped he and shouted "next cunt
that touches this cunt gets killed". who'd have predicted that one? In a
further display of incredibly un-neddish behaviour he helped the beaten mate
to the exit of the park and even offered his mobile phone to call some mates.
Incredible. Of course on said neds return to the park come the sound
of a huge fight between the two groups, and presumably they were just
itching for an excuse to start a fight and my friend provided the opportunity.
Regardless of this, I thought this rare example of neds-turned-good
deserved to be shared.