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From: JC I did a total of ten years,in 3 houses,in one of Glasgows famous 'hard' areas. I had one beating in that time, unopened bottle of Irn Bru smashed over my head,but,as there was a team of them,and I was on my own,and I got the first peach of a headbutt in,they never even looked at me again.They are all complete shit bags, even in a team,if you show them that you actually are willing to stand your ground.Did the same in the Somerfield in Viccy Rd. 3 neds outside, 2 cheeky, one goon, take exception at my choice of football top. My dog detered them.Upon tying the dog up and going in to shop, who do I see at a checkout. They follow me around store, insulting me. I know that it's only a matter of time, so when they approach me at the drinks aisle, I take a sudden dash and headbutt the goon in the mouth. I recommend this course of action to anyone, just to see the rainbow of human emotions go over someones face in a second, from arrogant bravado, to confusion to utter terror. He tried to grab a bottle to defend himself with, but grabbed a plastic Frosty Jacks bottle, force of habit, maybe.I took a glass bottle of wine and told them in no uncertain terms to get to fuck while they still could. They got the message. Whilst doing my time in the previously mentioned scum infested shithole, which is between Govanhill and the town, I had many run-ins with these throwbacks. On one occassion, whilst going down the stairs in my close, 3 of the locals, again, 2 wee cheeky, 1 goon, who were on the stairs 24-7, decided to 'dip my bins'. They remarked at my coolness that I 'knew the score'. Imagine their surprise and delight when upon opening my jacket, they find a 12 inch razor sharp bowie knife. My,how we laughed. They never looked at me ever again, let alone tried to mug me, although a few of my friends weren't so lucky. Because the police in that area are the laziest overpaid wasters on the face of the earth, I learnt to look after myself. On several occassions, when you've got about 8 of them throwing stones at your windows, you go out, the goon makes a big show of throwing his jacket to the ground,and swaggering towards you, with his team behind him. The appearance of the ball hammer in your hand is enough to send them on their way. They really don't like it when you follow them over the river into the edges of the town and make a public humiliation of them in front of their sengas, 8 of them, one guy offering to fill their faces in with a hammer. You have a 100% guarantee that you will never see these people again.Unfortunately, they will be replaced by another group. Why is the stock response from these shitbags, when you square up to them,'when my uncle gets out the jail, you're getting yer jaw rattled', or'do you know who my da is?', always shouted at you, while their beating an undignified retreat. A reply of 'yes, Julian Clary', is advisable here. Even though I'm in a better area, the neds aren't as much of a pain, I still see red whenever I see shellsuits, skipcaps and swaggers. We really should just take matters into our own hands,as no-one else will, and start stringing them up from lamposts, it's the only solution. On a different note, I was walking past Borders in Buchanan St, that well known skag dealing-magazine selling area. One of the living dead harpies was talking to some raggedy assed male wreckage,moaning about the police, etc.On bidding them farewell, she told them to 'be lucky'.I still laugh about it, in a callous, heartless, spitefull way, lol

...Please Note that Glasgow Survival does not condone the taking of ball hammers to neds.

From: Bob My wife and I came to the UK in 2000 to escape the gun-violence, rape, hijacking and brutality that is South Africa. My wife had secured a job in Greenock (just west of Glasgow for those not in the know) and we happily fled our home for greener pastures. How surprising, then, when we discovered that the place we arrived in was an even greater hive of scum and villainy than the place we'd left. The single-braincell yobs we encountered made me wonder as to the ancestry of these types, and about the absoluite unfairness of life. One should have to pass a test to concieve - the world could only be better off, and all of west Scotland would be free for development.

Anyway, what surprised me most was how these trash got away with everything. Throwing stones at passing busses/motorists/cyclists/ anyone not wearing trainers, beating others up in the streets with their recently-emptied bottle of whatever cheap bleach was on sale that day, sweating, spitting, and generally being abusive. Due to the culture I hail from, I have often been tempted to plant my foot into the mouth of one of these rubbishbags, but that would be petty and to stoop to that level would negate all that I stand for. I do feel, however, that if more people were to actually look these things in the eye (as blurred and cow-like as they are), then the antagonist would nine times out of ten back away. They are a stupid and cowardly lot, and like monkeys they are only tough when accompanied by a throng of lowbrow lads.

We have since moved to Reading in England, where - although less prevalent - there are still street trash to be found in all the McDonalds and kebab shops. This is a self-perpetuating virus, and I pray to all the gods that the police will be allowed to jail people for littering, swearing and spitting - not to mention public intoxication - without fear of retribution. That will surely clear the streets of a vast quantity of the unnecessary burdens on society that pervade our everyday lives. Alas, it seems that the government is intent on encouraging the poor to remain poor, and to receive even more benefits for having more sprogs. At least guns are not as easy to come by as knives. It pleases me that I can write this without worrying about one of them (well a group of them - see above) seeking me out - I've used far more two-syllable words than any of them could ever tolerate.

From: Ged While quietly enjoying the "sold-out" film, my peace was interrupted by the appearance of the group who entered the cinema hall brandishing bottles of buckfast via the emergency fire exit just left of the big screen. They then proceeded to walk to the back of the room un-challenged and comfortably took up four vacant seats. Having being approaced by the UGC staff at the enterance and asked not to leave any spare seats because the film was a "sell out" I was baffled as to how these idiots had managed to find somewhere to sit and began to wonder how many people had been turned away from the screening even though four free seats went to pre-pubescent neds who where under the influence and had had the gall to take the back door. Soon after, my thoughts where interrupted by the unmistakable screech of a senga crying out "haw this is that mad film wae ra guy that writes comics"...followed by a chorus of "shh!" from the safety of the shaddows. Around fifteen minutes later the four jumped up and began to exit the cinema (possibly bored by the concentration required to watch this particular film) but there where of course the usual inaudible cries and empty threats to no-one in particular as they left. Most amusing of all was that they passed two UGC cinema staff on the way out, the pair then proceeded to walk to the back of cinema to check that everything was in order, which (of course) it was, seeing as the neds had just left having once again "got away with it..."

From: anon Thought I'd share this story not just to highlight the extremely short fuses carried on most neds, but also how blatant stupidity can get even the most normal people into a very bad situation!

Myself and my friends are students, and one Friday night we had decided to go up to the Glasgow Union. Passing by the QM, we decided to go in there for a couple. Surprisingly, we ended up staying for the whole night. At closing time, we were standing outside. I was separated from my friends slightly, phoning a taxi on my mobile. They were standing next to a group of dressed neds who had initiated a conversation with my lot while I'd been on the phone. I heard most of it, and was sober, so this isn't exaggerated or imagined...

Normal guy - "Aye, first time we've been in there. Normally the GU. What bout you?"
Dressed ned - "First time. Only wan ay us is a student. Were just boys fae Govan."
(Normal people say their goodbyes and walk away at this point...FAST. Not so my friend)
"GOVAN? Fuckin GOVAN? Here mate, I'm a Celtic fan and I've got a problem with Govan!"
Dressed Ned runs at my friend and smashes his Stella bottle (why do the QM let you take these outside with you?) off a lamp post, and holds the rest of it up to his neck, screaming the usual "Ure fuckin dead ya fuckin cunto! Fuckin right noo en!"

Unfortunately my friend was drunk enough to oblige and ended up getting a severe kicking and a few slashes before us and the bouncers could intervene. The other dressed neds aimed a few passing punches at us as we tried to appeal for calm, but when the bouncers arrived they ran like fuck, not even waiting on their scary-eyed friend, who apparently spent a night in the cells and nothing else. Justice nowadays, eh? To be fair presenting a vacant-eyed sloth like this guy with the opportunity of a 'pure kwality rumble' is too much of a lure for the likes of him to resist, and a fair portion of the blame goes to my friend.

Fellow students beware, if you're outside the QM talking to a group of guys from Govan, please don't ignite a sectarian riot... it does your chances of pulling no good!

From: Karl I was on a pub crawl with my mate and our girlfriends. We were all walking past a car showroom with a santa in it and laughing at it for some reason.

This lone ned of about 13 was there and he thought we were lauging at him. He started hurling abuse and asking us for a fight. Four of us and only one of him. I asked him as we went past if his balls had dropped yet to wind him up and he went fucking beserk. Started shouting like hell asking for a fight and rareing up at us. We carried on walking and I convinced my mate it was not worth going back to beat up a 13 year old kid. I dont know why he rared up so much as he did not stand a chance of winning if a fight had broke out against four twentysomething adults..

Brave stuff. Maybe he had a knife or 10 mates hiding round the corner.

From: Simon Back in 2000 I visited Scotland on a drive-round trip with a mate and spent a night in Glasgow. Back then my football team, Leeds United were playing in the Champions League, and I resolved to find a pub showing that evening's game, against some Spanish team. Being English and well aware of the hatred we are held in north of the border I kept a lid on my enthusiasm, avoided a club shirt, found a nice smart pub in the town centre.

At kick-off the match was clearly not being followed, however, Leeds having conceded an early goal my dismay was clearly noted by a table of four dressed neds, who started to cheer everything the Spanish did well and boo my team accordingly. Fortunately Leeds turned the game around and won through, but it gave me a sense of righteous indignation that I was willing to support Scottish teams over 'foreign' opposition, but this would not be reciprocated. On the other hand, maybe I'm being too harsh, were they maybe Spanish neds on a 'cultural' exchange? It would be a good idea. Perhaps equally grotty neighbourhoods from different nations could be twinned.

From: Al Back in the late 1980s I worked at a DSS office in Maryhill (hey, temporarily, and it was a job), and it's so true that the system is milked by those who know how to do so. The worst thing was the drug-addicts whose suppliers would bring them to the office, let them sign for an over-the-counter giro and then insist it be signed over to them. Those people were the scum of the Earth.

The Pet Sounds Recording Studio (used by Wet Wet Wet, I understand) was over the road, and I was amazed to discover that the Ferrari 308 GTB which appeared intermittently in the street was not associated with the studio... it was owned by a ned who was "signing-on!"

I lived in Glasgow for 20 years, and never developed any affection for the place at all. I liked the GFT, and Pollok Park, but the city itself was less attractive than Liverpool, Cardiff or Southampton where I have worked since. Having lived away for twelve years now, I am not greatly tempted even to visit Glasgow.

There are neds everywhere, of course, but none seem as offensive as the Glasgow Ned. When I lived in Yorkshire, I never found Doncaster or Leeds neds anywhere near as irksome: a Scottish accent tended to quell any unrest, so maybe I have an innate Neddish tendency myself - except that I was quelling hassle rather than starting it. There's an almost American pride in ignorance which sets the Glasgow Ned apart from the run-of-the-mill ne'er-do-well baseball-capper of other areas. You site reminded me of their charmlessness, but the sense of humour in it rips the pish oot o' them so adroitly that I can actually laugh about neds rather than see them as a pain in the arse which spoiled my years in Glasgow.

From: Robert I would just like to say that I love your site and have recommended it to all my 'hauners'. I am frightened to say that I may have been intimidated by many of these neds and would like to wish them all well on their way to work in Mac Donald's. Every day I am forced by the only bus route home to walk pas a large gang of common neds who spend their days (occasionally) at St T***** A****** Secondary school (hello boys). These neds have been so bored at school that they play a game to see who can guess how many people from my school they will 'do later that day. So as i get of the 44 bus on my way home i come under a hail of calls such as ' haw you Mosher, you're getting do'ed', 'your ma' and my personal favourite 'ho curly bunnet' I then get my daily exercise running the gauntlet. This game envolves avoiding bottles of empty iron brew,coppers and anything ealse they find on the ground if i pass this stage which i am proud to say i normally do i get to weave my way in and out of the wee cheecky neds who less slugish than the goon neds have caught up with me. My only chance of passing is to sprint while they exchange soviern rings once past them and out of sight the neds retire to their close until they can work under cover of darkness. Running the gauntlet is a fun game for any school student who is not bothered by getting their head stamped on and i would recomend that you all come and join in and please bring some police we need the help!!!

yours sincerely, the Glasgow gauntlet champion

From: Denise Normally, I wouldn't write an email to voice my opinion but when I saw your website I felt compelled to do so. I would like to quietly relate an experience I had personally with a group of "neds" in glasgow on one of my many trips there to visit friends. My friend from Glasgow had decided to take me out to one of the many nightclubs for an evening of entertainment. We got dropped off around 7pm to wander about and soak up the atmosphere. Around 3 am after an evening of thumping entertainment from one of Glasgows fine establishments we called a cab and much to my dismay 500 or so other people decided to call a cab at the same time so needless to say we geared ourselves for a long wait on the streets with many other people. As we stood on a corner, we couldn't help but notice all the "neds" walking about the streets. Some approached us asking for fags, some were downright brazen in their requests. Most of these boys were a bit intoxicated so my American accent went mostly unnoticed(thank god). Then a group of young boys, as I will refer to them walked up and struck up a conversation. They were decked out in their white track suits. Their hats had small bills on them and were obscurely pointed toward the heavens. Every question they asked ended with "and that no?"They inquired about my accent to which I told them I was from Los Angeles, California. They asked me if I knew any famous people and I told them "of course, doesn't everyone?" They wanted to know if I had ever seen any gangs from LA. To which I replied that I had (not true). I went as far as telling them that gangs in LA have "special handshakes" that they did on the sly so as to not attract attention from the "polis". This group of "neds" begged me to show them this special handshake, so I silently looked at my friend from glasgow to get her permission to take the piss outta these wee boys. I proceeded with the secret handshake that included a regular handshake followed by a bump with the opposing knuckle followed by a thumb wrestle (you do this twice) followed by a handslick where you slide the opposing hand together. Finally you move your hand, palm down and slide it back across the top of your head (as if applying hair gel). I will never forget the eager faces of this group of idiots as they demostrated on one another the new mastery of skill required with this "special handshake" They even went as far as performing their new honed skill on other suspecting "neds" on the street. I had to jab my friend in the ribs to keep her from laughing her ass off and giving away my trick. I have since been back to Glasgow and I always keep an eye out for a young group of "neds" and the special handshake. I am hoping that it might make the rounds back here to cali---one can hope.

From: Stewart Finally, I wondered if a story of foreign neds was of any interest also, if so I have the following tale to recount....

while on holiday in central italy last year, I was with an italian friend of mine and we were just standing on the street by his house. Two youths drove by on a scooter and my friend looked to see if they were friends of his, this being a familiar residential area. The two youths circled round the block and pulled up, thew smaller of the two, hand in a bandage, got off the scooter and approached my friend (the following dialogue was, of course, conducted in Italian but it went something like this...) "whit the fuck ur you looking it?", my friend replied that we were just standing about talking and that he wasnt wanting any trouble "'hink ye're a fucking hard man, I'll fuckin' do you" my friend points out the midgets' physical disandvantage in terms of his lowly stature and broken finger, the italian ned says "if my finger wusnae broke I'd fucking kick yer cunt in". I had little idea at the time of what was being said but I knew it wasnt friendly, my mate ws trying to calm the young chap down even though he could have ripped his head off, and I was standing behind him, ready to grab a nearby brick to lamp the wee cunt wi'. Lucky I didnt, after another of our friends came out the wee cheeky italian ned and his big goon pal, who styed on the bike fucked off. Two weeks later my pal was in his town when 4 big bastards stopped him saying that he gave one of their pals shit and if he did it again he was getting stabbed. They were from Naples (the Glasgow of Italy). I was glad, for my friends sake, that I hadnt intervened at the time with unessecary masonary assault. The whole situation could have been taken straight from the tenements o' E-hoose if you replace the scooter wi' Vauxhaul Nova. I wonder if anyone else has had a foreign ned experience.

From: anon On the subject of nedism. Deepest Killie 11.50 pm Sat night:
Im in the house watching telly with the wee woman. I hears a noise out in my drive.(from which I've had 6 cars tanned in the 11yrs I've lived here). I go out side , and while Im looking for a blunt instrument , I see a police car sitting about thirty yards away with his lights on. I turned to go back indoors and as I did a head, sorry a baseball cap (burb. natch) rises up over my neighbours fence , abot three feet away from me. The eyes were swimming in a sea of that nights chemical input. Not being too shy about such things, I shouts "What the fuck do you think your doing?!!!!!" Nedoid replies in slurred drawl .." What does it look like Im fucking doing?"" Points at cops who are close enough to hear the whole event but seem struck deaf. I insists "Well whatever the fuck your doing, get the fuck out of here and do it somewhere fucking else" My verbal skills obviously struck a chord at this point. He says " I . fFair enough big man" , and starts to shuffle down the slope of the drive. Hes laughing now "I , fair enough , your a pure fucking space cowboy man ." He then tries to straddle over my neighbours runway gate. Smack! face first into the pavement.. He staggers to his feet, seems to forget about the cops and walks straight past them. They totally ignore him. He heads home none the wiser that his paranoid adventures were only there to further evidence the pains and tribulations of the mdern ned.

From: Thomas
A couple of amusing tales as well from recent trips to Glasgow - both of which ended with the main ned being "held back" by his crew as he "tried" to fight my friend and i:

Firstly, a walk to the bus stop after a night at the Shack ended humorously when I turned back to see my good buddy being accosted by a group of dressed neds. Returning to help, the group (of 5 or so) started to harangue both of us for our money so that they could go home... being a bit tipsy and not one to bow down to neds, my friend told them "I work hard for my money, and I'm not just going to give it to you for no reason". At this, one ned got crazed, and began shouting "that's it, youse are fuckin dead byaway" and reached into his pocket to get something... we started wondering if he was going to knife us, but he turned to his friend (in what was obviously a pre-arranged ned signal), who started going "naw, davie, its no worth it" and 'holding him back'... the first ned continued to shout "i'll stab youse ya wideos" whilst 'struggling' against his mates obvious vice-like grip. My friend and I, realising that no knife was in that pocket, smiled and walked on. However, they did get their revenge by knocking the end of my pakora from my hands and into the street. Damn you... !

Hilariously, a week later saw the same friend and I actually reach the bus stop and get onto the bus before one skinny, bucky-addled young dressed ned started abusing us for no reason (we're not even goths or anything!). In another humorous verbal exchange, my friend calmly asked "is there a problem here?". Needless to say, the ned became crazed, and needed all the power of his shorter friend's left arm to 'hold him back' from delivering to us what surely would have been the beating of our lives. We were left in no mistake of this as the neds left the bus before us, and hit the window beside our seat as we drove off.

From: Gordon
While walking down west Nile St. myself and my friend came across what we later called "Nokia Ned". Let me explain: We were just passing the Royal concert hall on our way down toward the Odeon when we heard the refrain "Haw ya daft c**t wit da Fuk the matur way yoo noo " etc, etc, this continued at such a loud pitch that most of the people on the street were watching this little show.

It took us quite a while to actually see this ned (usual attire need I say more?) as he was some way down the street, he was actual standing on the opposite side of the street from the bay horse bar having a "private" argument with his senga on his mobile. The fact should be noted that we first heard him when we were at the royal concert hall give some indication of how loud he was.

However the conversation was very enlightening as it threw some light onto what neds think about the sexual abilities of their partners, and believe me the whole of the street was getting a VERY graphic description of how "shite ya ur a gein BL*W j**S" truly amazing behaviour.

From: Gav
This particular Ned encounter occurred on Halloween in the mean streets of Grahamston, Falkirk (admittedly not home to the true hardcore Ned, but a fine selection of Bams nonetheless). On my way to the train station, along with several friends, we saw a group of rather unsavoury characters in the distance, addressing a fellow Ned who was seated on the pavement floor. With no warning, one of the capped crooks kicked the grounded goon in the thigh. The blows continued to rain down on the hapless foe as we made a hasty exit – unwilling to see how far the undoubtedly drunk/high Ned would go. After waiting at the station for a few minutes, a common Ned ran towards the shelter, shouting the following at two dressed Neds:

"Quick…Monkey’s foond the guy who robbed ‘is gran’s hoose, n ee’s booting fuck oot ‘im in the underpass!"

Needless to say, the Fred Perry clad youths ran off to join in "Monkey’s" moment of glory.

From: anon
I was never a ned myself, but I had a soft spot for the nedettes aka sengas... I dunno what it was about them, maybe just the fact that it was easy to get into their pants? Anyways I was seeing this senga called 'Angie' who was quite a nice girl when she was not with 'the troops' , but one night I was out with a few of my friends when we were approached by a gang of md20/20 fuelled local neds, the mouthy one swaggered up and asks my friend 'goat any chocolate biscuits?' (ned patter for , 'give me money / fags / etc...) my friend just laughed , they didn't like that, and one grabbed my baseball cap and said 'what you sayin tae it ya dobber' I was surprised that he did that as he was about 3 yrs younger than me, I just laughed and said in ned patter ' im sayin geez ma hat back ya clown' , the mouthy ned retorted 'who you talkin to ya pure wideo', 'things were getting a tad heated and one of the other neds (the chief gadge')smashed a bottle on the ground, we were getting quite worried by now....then one of the nedettes stepped out in front of the bottle weilding gadge and said' leave it Burnso, hes ridin wee Angie' , 'burnso' turned to me with smashed bottle in hand, and my face must have went pure white....he said 'nice one ma man, no a bad wee erse on it'

And with that, they left..... on their way to look for 'chocolate biscuits'

ps. I later found out that Angie was Burnso's wee cousin!?!?!

From: Colette
I have just looked at your website, and would like to tell you about several experiences I've had with neds. Being a "mosher" (It's complete rubbish, it's not like I kill goats for satanic purposes.) neds, to put it gently, don't really get on with me. But one day I was in town with my two friends, also "moshers" (It's a stupid word) A large group of what looked like goths came up to us. "whit ye fuckin starin at us fer ye pure cunt?" said a girl with dreadlocks. We were shocked, we wouldnt have expected just behaviour from a "goth". they're usually againt all that mental mad ned stuff. "You'd better git tae fuck before we pure do you". We were confused, and asked what it is we were meant to have done "aw yous were drawing us pure heavy duty growlers you pure cows". They were a lot bigger than us, so we left. So its seems a ned isn't always a ned anymore. These psychopaths have decided to give us moshers and goths a bad name too, is nothing sacred? A pure mental ned from our school also recently slapped one of my friends across the face, for no obvious reason (she wasn't even a goth or mosher).

Yet another encounter I had with neds was at a bus stop with my friends after school. Two big neds came up to us and said "excuse me, was your school out early today?" in thier idea of a posh voice. They were onbviously taking the pish, but we decided to humour them and said it wasn't. The larger one put on a "hard" face and said "cut the crap and gies your money" we hadn't been expecting that, and niether of us had any money, so we just stared stupidly at them. Loosing thier cool, they decided to bolt, but one if them ran back and grabbed my friends bottle of coke, then threw it into a nearby bowling green. Neds are wierd.

From: anonymous
Having been playing rugby in Glasgow myself and three others had decided to go for a swift half in the city before making our way back to the hotel we were staying in. One of the guys that I was with was a rather handy 6 foot 5 Aussie copper that has guarded among other things, previous Australian Premiers. He is very useful in a tight spot and has a remarkably short fuse. Any way, I digress.

As I said, we were strolling home after half a dozen shandies when we were approached by a squad 6 Neds - 1 Goon Ned and 5 aspiring Dressed Neds. Clearly, they believed that 6 against 4 was fair odds even though we were far bigger than them and so they proceeded to block our way and then try and pick a fight. Now, the large Aussie politely asked them to move so we could continue on our way unmolested. This led to much abuse, some directed at him for his accent. Ah, the irony, if only they could have heard themselves. Any way the Goon Ned up front stated something along the lines of "Ah'm gonna have yooze, ya f@cking wanks!". In response to this my Antipodean chum replied "I tell you what, if you want to have a go, we'll have a go. I don't mind and I'll even let you have first shot. All I'd say is, if I were you I'd make it your very best one." Now, any one with half a brain that has just heard something of this sort from someone that is 6 inches taller than them and who is standing smiling down on them must surely realise that it is time to beat a tactical retreat. Alas, no and Goon throws his punch sadly the last thing the Goon Ned heard that evening was "No mate, not good enough" just before the lights got switched out with the first retaliatory punch. The Goon unfortunately, took two more very fast and well placed blows on his way to the deck - from memory, a left to bring him half way back up and a right to finish the job. Bit messy but I told you my chum had a short fuse. We then proceed to aggressively defend ourselves against the Goon's squad which was disappointingly easy. The one I had playfully by the throat made the following pathetic plea "Don't hit me, I'm in the Royal Marines." I don't think so.

For the anthropologists among you, the interesting thing was that there were no Sengas around for the Neds to show off to, so I can only conclude they were "dead pure mental, man" or they really did believe they were hard.

From: Laura
Having glasses has always made me be a target for neds as they seem to think because your eye sight isnt great that you are an easy target which is actually far from the truth. As I was walking home from my friends house one night I got stopped in my tracks by a group of around 10 sengas and suprisingly only a few common neds(most likely the others were away getting more bucky). A few of the girls went to my school but I never spoke to them, I only knew of them. So anyways one big burly senga, who could of been mistaken for a male goon ned, approached me saying I had been "bitchin" about one of her friends from the "old toon" who I had never even heard of before. She proceeded to scream and shout in my face while the rest of her "crew" started to crowd round me. Then she went onto how it was a distant relative of hers I had been fighting with. God only knows how I got away from them in one piece but maybe they had "done in" enough innocent people for one night but she didnt let me get away without shouting after me "next time ye talk boot any ma pals again ya specy bastard I kick yer cunt in". The funny thing is 3 years on and she wouldnt even consider lookin the road Im on as she doesnt have the same crew as before. There either in jail, got kids or too drugged up to leave the house.

From: Andrew
Having spent the majority of my life in the West Coast of Scotland I consider my knowledge of the genus Ned to be as extensive as it is inherant. By inherant I am in fact confessing to my previous life as a ned.

While skulking through my peri-pubescant musings on the state of the world and failing to find solace in Noam Chomsky's tome, New World Order, I gravitated towards a group of my contemporaries at the nedary school I attended.

At the time I was completely unaware that this group were neds, infact I am not even sure that such a term was used in everyday nomenclature in the 1980's. We were simply bams, part of a crude social grouping refered to as a team.

For the approximate three years I spent as a tertiary member of this team (whose name shall not be digressed, I have a family now you know!) I was witness to innumerable acts of random violence and pointless hectoring from tripping up old people with walking sticks to smashing up cars. I accept that I was complicit in these acts if not the major contributor.

If I were religious I would thank God for saving me from myself and the prospect of fathering little Sengas and little Davys and sitting out my life on the dole in a,"coonsil," high rise ("Aye-bit, its pure free 'n at, know?") surrounded by equally despicable miscreants whose life revolves around little more than Ali G impressions and the latest Argos catalogue. However God had nothing to do with it. I thank my own intelligance for my deliberate decision to abandon my nedish lifestyle, try harder at school and attain a place at university. Despite the fact that I continued to drink heavily, though the buckfast and MD 20/20 was left for the neds, and dabble in recreactional drugs I managed to receive a degree and go on to acheive some success in my chosen field. At times this success seems vacuous and irrelevant when the acts of random violence and intimidation which I perpetrated against weaker or outnumbered fellow human beings across the country of Scotland. However, as a health care professional, I find succour in the fact that I now help those whom I once hurt.

My story is not one of inner city slumsville or green belt over flow communities, rather it is one from the many urban centres which exist in Scotland outside the conurbations of the large cities, whose ned culture is as rampant and tangible as any weegie scum or 'burgher radge.

Thankyou for listening to the confessions of an ex-ned.

From: Diane
Last summer I was enjoying an ice cream within the safe confines of my boyfriend's car on the 'Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond' when we were treated to a rare and spectacular sight: Ned interaction with nature. How this particular group of neds had managed to get out of their schemie environment is a complete mystery. I know of no number 62 buses that go to Loch Lomond and none of them seemed capable of containing enough brain cells to acquire a driving licence. Anyway this group (4 males and 1 senga) were standing on the shore when a swan began gliding towards them probably in the hope of obtaining some scraps of bread. 'Aw, pure check that, f****ng mental swan byraway' the alpha male observed and gallously swaggered towards it. The swan toddled out the water and waddled towards the ned, clearly hoping to be fed. The alpha ned with arms outstretched and displaying Robert de Niro facial contortions yelled 'Moan then, ya basturrt!' Feeling threatened the swan outstretched it's wings, hissed loudly and with neck raised gonad high, goosed him squarely in the balls and hung on. 'F****ng kick it, Stevie' advised his friends though I noticed none of them ran over to assist him. It was apparent that Stevie was injured and unable to kick properly. The swan just flapped into the air, balls still in its beak and avoided the badly aimed kicks. Then for whatever reason, I guess the swan decided that Stevie had just had enough, it let go and flew back to the water and glided out to the safe boundaries of brick hurling distance. Just as well because the neds and senga then decided to hurl stones, branches and whatever else was lying around at the swan whilst shouting various insults such as 'F****ng wideo swan, ya f****ng w****r ! etc'. The swan never replied. God knows what tourists think....

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