When I was a kid there was a magical place you could go and
get presents even when it wasn’t your birthday or Christmas. This magical place
was called the tip.
I once got an awesome scooter from the tip. When I say
awesome it was old, rusty and fairly beaten up but it had all its wheels and it
went completely fine. Why would anyone throw away such as an amazing object?
While I dreamed of one day getting taken to Uncle Pete’s
Toys, the tip had that added element of excitement and danger. There was the rank
smell, the risk of tetanus and the very slight chance you might come across a severed
body part like in the start of a Law & Order episode.
I did eventually get to go to Uncle Pete’s Toys one day, but
as much as I nagged I don’t think I actually got anything. At the tip you could
take home whatever you wanted (provided it wasn’t a manky severed arm or
something).
The tip was a breeding ground for more than just germs. It
also bred ingenuity and creativity. Old prams were in high demand because you
could take off their wheels and make billy carts. You could then race these
billy carts down very steep hills, dramatically crash and then spend weeks
picking at all those lovely scabs.
At some point all the tips got closed down and from then on
you never saw billy carts. Gradually kids become softer and more annoying and
then Justin Bieber appeared and it all went to hell.
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