View Full Version : Only in FREO... F#$king Freo!!!!

16-11-2004, 08:41 AM
ok... for those of you who know me you would know that a couple of weeks after i purchased my bike that some little pricks pushed it over in hillarys...


As i was walking out of dinner in freo last night with some mates (Sandrino's, great feed by the way), my bike was parked on a side street behind the cafe, next to 2 scooters in a bike parking bay which was well lit. One of my buddies notice a puddle next to my bike, no rain... my mind jumps... (thinking oil leak or something) now i get to my bike and find that some s%@t f#%ker has poured a sticky fluid (HONEY) over the rider and pillion seats and hence has dripped all over the side of bike onto swing arm, fairings tyre etc etc etc... god damn it!!!! Why the frig would anyone do shit like that!!!!

Anyhow went back to my mates cafe, got hot water, washed most away, got home and got rid of the rest.

Anyhow sorry to the people I sms'd and woke at 11 or so last night... needed to vent... ahhhhhh back to work now... damn freo...

16-11-2004, 08:54 AM
That sucks big time :oops: I only leave my bike at the bike bays outside Hungry Jacks, the other bikers make sure nothing happens to it. 8)

16-11-2004, 08:57 AM
WTF??!?! That bites. Sorry to hear. You gotta be glad it was only honey they used :evil:

16-11-2004, 09:04 AM
That's fark'd. Can imagine you'd be pissed.

Sounds like the job of a loopy chef or something.
Who else has a bucket of honey on hand in freo at night?

16-11-2004, 09:10 AM
That sucks big time :oops: I only leave my bike at the bike bays outside Hungry Jacks, the other bikers make sure nothing happens to it. 8)

Do you mean the ones on the side street ? or out the front ?

I went to park there on Sunday and its now "Police Vehicles Only".

16-11-2004, 09:27 AM
Get a bunky....everyone feels sorry for it and leaves it alone! :P


16-11-2004, 09:54 AM
That is farked!! :evil:

Would love to catch little fkn vandals like that in the act........ :twisted:

16-11-2004, 10:02 AM
Almost makes me want to park my bike there, for a few nights, hide somewhere... and wait.

Are there any residential places nearby that might have been sick of the sound of bikes, or something... I mean, who carries honey around? Maybe they live nearby.

16-11-2004, 10:03 AM
Man that sux! They are only jealous f#$^ing pricks. Would luv to catch them in the act hey.. :shock:

16-11-2004, 10:05 AM
That blows big time. Lucky it was only honey and not something like brake fluid. :roll:

Mr John
16-11-2004, 10:25 AM
Honey???? All signs seem to point to Winne the Pooh, if I ever see that fucker and his jar of honey I'll kill the prick

16-11-2004, 10:49 AM
Honey???? All signs seem to point to Winne the Pooh, if I ever see that fucker and his jar of honey I'll kill the prick

Can you fuck up that little sad sack Piglet at the same time.... he always pissed me off, smile you little fuck!! no wonder kids nowadays are fucked up.

Thats seriously fucked Jono, a female pillion should be the only reason...... nah, finishing that sentence will only get me in trouble...

16-11-2004, 11:46 AM
Honey???? All signs seem to point to Winne the Pooh, if I ever see that fucker and his jar of honey I'll kill the prick

Can you fuck up that little sad sack Piglet at the same time.... he always pissed me off, smile you little fuck!! no wonder kids nowadays are fucked up.

Thats seriously fucked Jono, a female pillion should be the only reason...... nah, finishing that sentence will only get me in trouble...

Well.. you see me was thinking if any of the psb girlies or any girlies for that matter wanna halp me remove some honey... ahhhhhhhhhh i shut up now before i get into more trouble ;)


16-11-2004, 01:04 PM
Sounds like someone knows you and the bike, or thought the bike belonged to someone they dont like.

I've heard of people putting bird seed on peoples seats so birds fly in and bite up the seat, maybe this was some wacko plan for ants to invade your bike or something?

Sorry to hear, but glad for the fact it could have been worse!

16-11-2004, 03:43 PM
Yeah, about a year ago something like that happened to me. Some asshole poured barbecue sauce over my throttle, break and clutch leavers.
While I was watching a movie at a cinema complex, It was at night and I had to run back in and get some toilet paper to wipe it off.

No damage was done to my bike, it was just a really shit thing to do! :evil:

16-11-2004, 03:52 PM


16-11-2004, 04:52 PM
Sorry to hear, '77 :evil:

Having smacked a few vandals (and graffitti artists) in the past - i'm with pacman - would love to set up and f$%k badly with anyone that does shit to bikes...

On the subject - i find that most people are w-a-y too tollerant of pricks doing shit - either turn a blind eye, or just make noise & take no action. I can't walk away from it - and it often brings me down. So be it.

Sprint 8)

16-11-2004, 06:18 PM

Yeah that's what i think of those lil bugga's .... Wait till i get my hands on them if they did something to my baby ....

16-11-2004, 07:30 PM
As calvin said there is only one place to park in Freo and thats in front of foodtown opp. hungry jacks (and yes the parking has been taken away there only from 6pm to 6am (last time i looked)).The guys will make sure nothing happens.

Have been giving the place a wide berth as well latley.....

17-11-2004, 06:31 AM
Next time take it into the restaraunt. they have smoking and non-smoking
bring on bike and non-bike sections!! :roll:
Sorry to hear jono... and you woke me up when you Txt me about it :evil:

17-11-2004, 11:42 AM


dam south of the river

17-11-2004, 12:10 PM
least they didnt add vegemite to the seat and handles too ..

17-11-2004, 09:01 PM
mmmm honey :D

u pissed of any bee keepers lately jono?????

18-11-2004, 06:35 AM
mmmm honey :D

u pissed of any bee keepers lately jono?????

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha HA :lol: :lol: :lol:

18-11-2004, 09:56 AM
maybe he pissed off a queen?


18-11-2004, 06:16 PM
hahahahaha bee keepers... queens... wtf... no way... i dont piss pepople off... ;)

18-11-2004, 06:49 PM
me gets nose bleeds if i stay south too long

18-11-2004, 10:04 PM
That's farked Jono. Lil c%$#s

I guess some people are just jealous of us bikers or sick in the head.

19-11-2004, 06:28 AM
Hey J you werent out entertaining one of the very fit young lasses that we had on the back on Sunday night were you?

07-12-2004, 09:45 PM
sounds like a good plan to beat the livin f### outa the bastards put together a group an park in the same spot then wait, easy, who's up for it
i'm not the sorta bloke that can just look the other direction but it sure does get ya in trouble if ya get caught
-----hint-----dont get caught

08-12-2004, 11:14 AM
there was a UK article about a bunch of guys for hire that do that.
wait in a van etc.
cant find the old link tho
anyone know it?

08-12-2004, 11:30 AM
I remember that, from AGES ago...

08-12-2004, 11:36 AM
Yeah, yeah I remember that... was an article written by a journalist who went along with them for the night.

08-12-2004, 11:47 AM
I couldnt find the link, but someone posted it in another fourm. So here is is - copy and paste style:


It's 2:14am in a carpark in suburban England and four blokes in an old van are fed up. Rambo, Tyson, Stan and Whacko Jacko - as they'll be known have waited four and a half hours, watching a solitary red Triumph T595 parked under the yellow glow of a streetlight.

That's too long to watch a motorbike do nothing. The reward should have come about two hours ago, but no luck so far. It's beginning to look like another no-score night; another waste of time, and it'll be the fourth in a row without action. Sod this for a game of soldiers.

Jacko, curled up in a back corner of the van, begins to snore softly. How can he go to sleep at a time like this? I'm nervous as hell, waiting for the police to arrest us, or for a gang to jump us, for pain and injury and imprisonment and death. My nerves are strung out on caffeine, nicotine and lack of sleep, yet at the same time I'm bored rigid with waiting. This is the most dangerous thing I've ever done and I'm bored.

Rambo, in the driver's seat, whispers a few words of frustration between clenched teeth, careful not to wake his colleague. His face is a flat, emotionless mask, eyes glinting in the light of his Marlboro.
Awww... come on you little ****ers...'

He fills me in on exactly who it is we're waiting for: 'There's a gang of kids working round here, linked to some blokes in Newcastle who they sell the bikes on to. We know about them coz our client had his bike nicked from just down the road three weeks ago, and Jacko had his stolen not far from here a year back. We hate these little toe-rags.'

Stan chimes in: 'That bike's been parked in the same spot for a week and we've seen sweet ****-all. It's the most frustrating thing about what we do. This is our last night. We'll have to pack it in after this. We'll only get paid half, but the worst thing is we won't catch the bastards.'

As they speak, Tyson gazes steadily into the old Merc's rear view mirror. I can't believe how calm these guys are. The only sounds in the cabin are Hoist's Planet Suite playing quietly on Classic FM and the occasional shuffle of feet and click of cigarette lighters.

The bike is parked in the middle of a large carpark near a housing estate, where thefts are common night and day. It's a notorious local hot-spot. The van is about 15 yards from the bike, lurking in the shadows cast by the arch of a bridge. It's a carefully chosen location and is positioned in such a way as to be invisible to any passers by, including police. The last thing the boys want is police intervention. The police wouldn't like what they do.

Suddenly, Tyson whispers a sharp warning.

'Hsst. We've got a bite. Wake Jacko.'

Now there's movement. Before I've had a chance to lean across and look in the mirror, Rambo has barged me out of the way and climbed into the back of the van, grabbing a length of wood from under the seat and his Sylvester Stallone mask from the dash. Jacko is already awake, rolling over to the other side of the van and grabbing a truncheon, pulling on his coat. Everything is done smoothly and silently. The hours of waiting are over.

Peering into the mirror, I can see a dark, hooded shape sloping around in the shadows near the bike. He leans down across the seat and rocks the machine forward slightly, testing for an alarm. Then he fiddles around near the steering lock. There is no doubt about his intention. At that moment, Tyson, Rambo, Stan and Jacko explode from the van and sprint toward the culprit. He only manages five steps before he's mown down in a windmill of flailing fists...

It started, as these things often do, with a phone call.
'Wanna story? There's a bunch of blokes round here who get their own back on bike tealeaves. They parka bike up as bait, then wait in a van until someone tries to have it away. Then they jump out and kick **** out of 'im...'
Sounded good to me.

'Gets better, mate,' the caller continued. 'They're for hire. For a fee, you can get 'em to come round and stake-out your area, if you've got a problem...'

A meeting was arranged with the anonymous caller - whom we now know as Jacko - and I was sent along as the stooge. Cheers. I felt like I should be carrying a briefcase full of unmarked US dollars, or be wired from head to toe with an FBI spook whispering in my earpiece. Or maybe it would all be a waste of time...

But Jacko appeared at the meeting point promptly, answering his description, which was simply, 'I'm a big bloke. You'll know me when you see me.'

And he was. Twenty stone wide, six feet tall, gigantic forearms plastered with tattoos. He had short hair, piercing blue eyes, and his thick neck and head formed a huge Howitzer shell above his broad shoulders. This was a man you would never, ever **** with. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, tie and trousers. I expected a biker: he was driving a Ford Mondeo.

We ordered two Big Mac Meals and took a plastic booth near the kiddies' play area.
So, what's the story?

“Me and three mates lay a trap, park a bike up, then beat the **** out of anyone trying to steal it. It started off as pure revenge, but more and more people found out and we started getting paid to do jobs.'
What sparked it off?

'Three of us had our bikes nicked in the space of a month. Then Tyson's went a month later, and the law did nothing. So we got together to sort it out for ourselves. It's mad round here - probably just as bad anywhere else. 1 reckon every PB reader has either had his bike nicked, or knows someone who has.

'We used Rambo's van and did our first stake-out about eight months ago. We parked Stan's Triumph outside a mate's house in a side street, then parked the van behind it and waited. Simple, really. We made sure it was a fairly quiet, looked at escape routes for us and the thieves, got everything just so and waited. On the first night a couple of kids tried it on.

'We'd only waited a couple of hours. Couldn't believe it. Got one of the bastards and dragged him in the van. Gave him a kicking.'
What do you do to them?

'Nothing permanent. We can handle ourselves - we know how to hurt someone without seriously doing them in. It's all about control. If 1 hit someone, 1 might crack a few ribs at worst, but they'll know they've been hit.

The fear of it is worse than the actual pain. The surprise is bad enough. Most of 'em have been duffed over in their lives, but they won't have been caught nicking a bike, then dragged into a van by four blokes wearing full-face masks. We teach 'em a lesson.'

So can a paying client come on a stake-out?

'No. Too risky. Too unpredictable. Someone might pull a gun or a knife or the law might nab us and then you've got real ****in' trouble. Anyway, it can be three or four nights in a row. When you explain it, people back out: mostly, they just help us with choosing locations and reccying the job before.'

So will you let a journalist come on a job and see what happens?

'Yeah, why not?'

There is a distinct noise made by a human knee tearing, halfway between a deep 'pop' and a sharp 'crack'. It's loud enough to pass through the windows of the van and it makes my flesh crawl. Even after being kicked in the head and torso, punched in the face and dragged with iron fists across the tarmac, the bike thief is still putting up a struggle and someone has twisted his leg to calm him down. It's an over-vigorous action and the thiefs screams are now being muffled by Jacko's hands, one over the mouth, one around the neck.

They drag him to the van. I look through the doorway between cabin and load area to see three of the guys hold the thief up for Stan to give him one almighty backhander across the head. The Stan Laurel mask fixes its lifeless grin on me through the shadows as Stan buries a rock-hard fist into the thief's stomach. He punches him again, and again, then whispers something into his ear before pushing him back into the van. The rear doors are closed and the beating begins in earnest. There are muffled obscenities, grunted rather than spoken, as the thief is thrown from one side to the other, legs flailing in the semi-dark. It soon gets very hot in there; a stifling, humid heat.

'You ****.'
'You ****en stealing it, eh?'
'You ****en trying it?'
Bang, bang.

The thief is defiant at first, swearing back at his assailants, trying to strike out with his arms, but his screams are soon cut short by a throat hold. He hasn't got a chance. Soon the brat begins whimpering and begging as he takes hit after hit, mostly to the body, occasionally to the face.

The noise inside the van is unbearable: I'm sure the police will arrive at any moment, but it must be muffled from the outside. It suddenly occurs to me that they've probably soundproofed the interior...

The batons and weapons aren't used herem punishment is administered by fist and foot. Then the activity slows down, and one of the beaters moves his rubber face close to the thief s and whispers something like, 'You tell your ****ing friends about this, alright?'

Then there's another hit which sparks more violence. Shapes flit around in the enclosed space, lit only by the street light passing through the van's windscreen, giving me fleeting glimpses of Stan Laurel, Mike Tyson, John Rambo and Michael Jackson, moving left and right in a random dance, faces unmoving.

What must be only three or four minutes seems to go on for years. They make it last, they make it hurt, and they end it abruptly. Stan grabs the now bloodied and lifeless culprit by the neck and dumps him in the street before pulling on a full face helmet. His Triumph starts first time and so does the van as Rambo takes the wheel. The bike blasts off into the night and the van rolls behind it at a steady 30mph. I look back and see the thief dragging himself off the path and into an alleyway. Justice, no matter how violent, is done.

We drive to the motorway services where I've left my car. Jacko and Tyson sit in the back, propped up against the walls, smoking. Rambo sits unmoving at the wheel, driving smoothly and slowly. There are a few brief words about the knee mistake, and Jacko reckons he's seen the thief before somewhere. But there's nothing much to say, certainly nothing to celebrate. More than anything, as the adrenalin slowly seeps away, we become dog tired. At the services, we meet Stan inside and sit around drinking coffee. I mumble a question: do they think it will stop that kid doing it again? They ponder this for a .moment, before Jacko answers:

'No, not really. They're so ****ing stupid. Maybe, sometimes, it stops them, but that's not the aim. We're just doing something we need to do. Call it revenge, call it getting even, call it what you like. When we all had our bikes nicked, we couldn't believe how ****ed-up we felt about it, so we thought we'd take the law into our own hands. It felt so good the first time, we did it again. And again.'
There's a long silence before Stan starts talking.

'We're prepared to get nicked for what we do. It's part of the game. But it's worth the risk. The Feds don't like it, but maybe, just maybe, some of them - deep down - think it's alright. A lot of our friends like it. Our clients like it. We like it. That's all that matters.'

He looks out of the window as he speaks.
'We're not proud of what we do, and we wouldn't suggest other people do it. We don't think we're heroes or vigilantes or **** like that. We're just ordinary blokes who got fed up having our bikes nicked.'

Jacko has the final word before we part company. He speaks slowly and clearly, measuring every word.

'We think that what we do is ****ing RIGHT. We think it's time somebody fought back and played by the same rules as those ****-bags. 1 mean, they don't have rules, so why should we? A good kicking is all these little ****ers understand. But the law can't dish it out - they know these tossers just walk out of court every time - so we're going to keep doing it until we've had enough. And that'll be a long ****in' time, I'll tell you...’

08-12-2004, 12:00 PM
*thumps chest*
Its the only thing those fuckers understand... a good arse kicking.

08-12-2004, 12:54 PM
You never know the police might have a delayed response in trying to get the guys doing the beating. You never know the cops might be asking themselves at the chase "What gear do i put the car in to get moving"
I know quite a few cops here and they beat the shit outta people like that if they could get away with it so are quite likely not to pursue the matter too far.
As far as Im concerned beat the fuckers to a pulp take there clothes and chain them to a street lamp Id be pretty confident they will think twice before stealing a bike or car again.

08-12-2004, 01:50 PM
wow street justice noice

08-12-2004, 02:07 PM
lol imagine the publicity here

"hoon bikers bash teenager in senseless act of violence."

"spokesmen at midland hospital, today reported that a teenage boy was beaten senseless last night in a south guildford carpark, after what appears to be a random yet shockingly well planned attack. Police have no leads, except that a motorcycle was heard fleeing the scene."

wonder if they have the same service for journo's and pollies
lol jj

08-12-2004, 03:55 PM
how come no one has put this is the networking section??? :twisted:

Supply and demand...........there is a demand so where is the supply??? :twisted:


09-12-2004, 12:22 AM
that was sweet theyre just fightin fire with fire nuthin wrong with that
all thats needed now is the van an masks :lol:

09-12-2004, 09:43 AM
and a couple of 130kg blokes :D