Number 32

The sunbed.

Sleeping on one of these when relatives stayed over and got your bed. Drifted off smelling the Ambre Solaire. Rudely awakened to find your cheek trapped in the springs.
Number 31

The cursed Crying Boy painting.

Caused your house to burn down. Only the frame remained.
Number 30

Burnt toast

At best - would cause your hair to go curly (a threat, not an incentive). At worst - a mysterious, agonising slow death
Number 29

The Sauna Suit.

Boil in the bag.
Number 28

The home built cart/bogey.

Brakes? Too complicated and wholly unnecessary. Sticking your foot in the spokes did the trick.
Number 27

Hai Karate. 'Chaos ensues - The power cannot be tamed!'.

Scientifically proven to cause wildly attractive women to ravish half-wits.
Number 26

Threads.

The ever present fear of nuclear annihilation
Number 25

Sheep Racing.

Just us?
Number 24

Imaginative electrical work-arounds.

No plug? No problem....
Number 23

Green crisps.

A secret government plot to cull the working class.
Number 22

The mousetrap.

Hearing one go off in the night. Or accidentally standing on one in the morning.
Number 21

The Zed Bed

The mortal fear of getting trapped in one.
Number 20

The electric foot muff.

Staying at your Grans in the winter and bunny-hopping to the fridge in it.
Number 19

Pampas grass.

Planted in all innocence then getting bombarded with swingers.
Number 18

The internal glass door.

Just begging for it.
Number 17

Heated Carmen rollers.

Or as we knew them, the hot rods of death.
Number 16

Drying clothes in front of an open fire.
Number 15

The Butlins photo viewer

Responsible for 99% of playground conjunctivitis.
Number 14

The egg slicer.

Many a drunken tune played on those razor sharp strings.
Number 13

The meat tenderiser.

The undisputed KING of 70s kitchen utensil weaponry.

"SHE'S GOT THE TERRORIZER!!!"
Number 12

Polystyrene ceiling tiles.

On a kitchen ceiling. Above the pressure cooker.

Pure Final Destination.
Number 11

The asbestos ironing board
Number 10

TCP

Nobody was afraid of anything in the 70s.

Because we had TCP.

Smelled so bad, it had to be good.
Number 9

Doc Martens

Breaking a new pair in was absolute torture.
Number 8

Lead toy figures. Painted with lead paint
Number 7

Door strips.

Near strangulation after a night on the lash.

On one occasion we got the fear so bad we slept in the shed.
Number 6

Knitted wool trousers and matching wool top.

A full wool outfit.

Constantly chased by dogs. Including sheep dogs that tried to round you up.
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