When truancy goes wrong — It was way too sunny to spend the day cooped up in a classroom. Having been raised on comics in which characters often played truant to go on fishing trips or similar adventures, I decided to emulate them. …

The cutest thing he ever stole — Tuesday When I opened the front door to see the beaming fizzog of my old friend Bentley Driver on the other side — a face I’d not seen in half a year — my immediate instinct was to pat my trouser pockets to ensure my wallet was in situ. …

I desperately wanted that junk from the comics — As a child, I sometimes fell foul of the seven deadly sins, or at least some of them. I demonstrated a degree of sloth when getting out of bed for school on icy mornings, and I took pride in once having the worst attendance record in class — good old…

Dirty deeds afoot — “So,” Jenkins said, elongating the word and gazing at me from the desk opposite, “you’ve finally hit rock bottom, Paul. You’re plumbing the depths, as they say.” He took a sip of coffee and then continued. “Do you think you may be losing your touch, old man?” …

I rose and fell like a pole vaulter — Ever since I was a kid, I always wanted to be a writer. I was still in short trousers when I demonstrated my fledgling editing skills to an older pupil who chalked on a board while the teacher was absent. …

We shouldn’t laugh really. No, really — Technology is forever progressing. How far we have come can be seen in early versions of such innovations as the motor car and television, which bear no resemblance to what we have today. While mobile phone technology is a comparative newcomer, it has seen many advancements during that short period…

I hid in the crowd at The Geordie Scene — Aged sixteen, I had been a guest at the children’s home, where I had been sent for persistent truancy for exactly two months, when an unexpected night out presented itself. …

He came down from the moral high ground on a sled — They say that as we get older, our views become more conservative. That accusation can certainly be levelled at my father, who morphed from rebel to reactionary. As a youth, the old fellow had been a punk rocker. Every year over Christmas dinner, his tongue loosened by the combined effects…

How the camel’s back was broken — The relationship between Gustav Jensen and your humble narrator, his lodger these past six months, had been strained for some time. One Tuesday afternoon the dam burst. Gustav returned from work early and walked in as I was engaged in what he considered a heinous act. In preparation for a…