A mate of mine relayed this story of Glasgow life to me.

Mate Says me and another guy from the flats were chatting in the garden and these wee steeks [ed he is from the North]  came in to play football (yes, our garden is kind of a municiple ned social ground) see the guy tossed them out (I didnt really care, these ones dont break anything so i would have left them alone otherwise you annoy them and they break things when youre not looking but in any case, the other guy told them to sling their hooks

Me says: whats their hooks

Mate says: (to sling one’s hook is to leave)so then their mother came storming in afterwards for a row “why cant they play in hte garden?!” she was raising her voice and being really rude can you believe the brass neck on someone waltzing into your garden attempting to coerce you into sharing your land with her

Me says: ya what did you say

Mate says: who the fuck does she think she is? Ghengis Khan I wasnt there I heard from my window, I had gone in at that point to do some lunch

Me says:

Mate says: it was the other guy. He was like “why dont they play in their own back garden?” and she was “Our garden is concrete”

Me says:

Mate says: so matter of factly that you might think that it followed quite logically that, because we had a superior garden we should naturally hand it over to her family I suppose it might follow that we could use her garden if we wished to play squash while she’s out hanging her clothes or getting pissed

Me What she say in the end

Mate As far as I could tell she just kept repeating herself but louder each time, and I think she finished with something to the tune of “they are coming in and there’s nothing you can do to stop them, aite!” I heard them in later, and a woman from the house told them to leave and they threatened to “get their mother on them” that same house also lead dogs into our garden for a shit and one time Virgin Wines left my delivery “with a neighbor” alas from that house…. needless to say it was never found again