IN PRAISE OF … daft boys.
IN PRAISE OF … daft boys.
0 Comments | Herald, The; Glasgow (UK), Jul 13, 2010 | by bruce morton
They sport big white shoes made of plastic and foam. They wear trousers without belts and you can see their pants. They cultivate swagger and baseball caps and they go in the huff so often you’d swear it was a hobby.
You hear them in the distance shouting words we only vaguely understand, like “Yalday!” and “Yaass!” They are 15, going on 12.
They don’t read much and they don’t write well, though the latter could be fixed if spray-paint came with a spellchecker.
They skoosh each other with water and they throw snowballs and eat things from Greggs.
But they are not all armed with knives and they are not all evil and most of them would be quick to help an old lady who fell in the street. (Quicker than an old man, certainly.) Like insects or rugby players, daft boys are mostly only a danger to each other.
All right: they can’t hold their drink – but few can apart from me and Jack McLean and my brother-in-law Maxie.
They repeat things they have heard on television sets and they have a right good laugh about it. Sometimes they throw their mate into a hedge. Or a river
ladies shoes
Jul 29, 2010
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