Dobba, founding member of the Fingolstones and also a legendary lothario in his own right. Unlike The Charmer Dobba believed in quality over quantity (his excuse for not getting much lady action in his university days). The thing with Dobba was that he wasn't the "love em and leave em type". He chose his sexual partners carefully, weighing up such factors as calf size, buttock curvature and most importantly whether they had plenty of tit to spare. In a sense much like a farmer would select the best breeding cow at the local agricultural show. He thus had many long term relationships and far fewer nasty STDs than the likes of The Charmer. Sadly these didn't always end well and more than once he was nearly gelded by a psychotic jealous bint fired up on Babycham and Alcoholic Irn Bru.
Dobba would avoid the underage groupies and leave them to The Charmer although if Operation Yew Tree should ever track down Mick Hucknalls illegitimate daughter and ask her what she got up to in a seedy Corfu hotel room in the summer of 1993 he may have some questions to answer.
He is now a happily married man, settled with his train set and beard oil. Retired from the rock and roll lifestyle and spends his time telling thick people to "turn it off and on again" whilst watching re runs of Carry On Films and anything featuring Helena Bonham-Carter.
Inspired by meeting a group of with it Swedish teens in 1988 and the clothing they were wearing, Dobba launched his own clothing range called simply "Dawdog". All the cool kids can be found wearing it eg Jedward, PJ and Duncan and Duncan Norvelle.
Logo for the "Dawdog" range of trendy jumpers and cravats. Please note: If you are viewing this logo on the mobile version of the site it doesn't display properly. No idea why this happens. Stupid technology. You can go to the bottom of the page though and select to view the web version and this will display it properly.
Dobba models one of his latest Jumper creations. Called simply "The Skeggy"
The weekends finally here, he's craving for some beer With drinking in his sight, he heads into the night As he wanders to the pub, his thoughts are going back To the days when he was young, to the days of hunting crack
It was 20 years ago that he was young and free Doing what he liked, with Boog and Mr G The birds were never safe when Dob was on the prowl Some were sort of fit but some of them were foul
Andrea was a sweetie, a really lovely girl A smile to melt your heart, skin like mother of pearl Things were going great until the day he told her That her facial hair reminded him of Noddy Holder
There was a chick called Karen, had a horsey face Crazy as can be, always on his case Was a real psycho, threw a bottle at his head Kicked him in the nutsack, scratched him till he bled
Pernille was a Dane, she was of Viking Stock In a Torquay toilet she fiddled with his hair But he knew she had to leave, this night would be he final So he took her by the hand, scuttled her on the urinal
Jo she was a cracker, but it wasn't to be Then she turned up at his house selling Virgin Vee Dobba he looked at her and smiled cos he could see What a big fat bloater she turned out to be
In 1993 he headed to the sun To the island of Corfu for lots of sexy fun Who were the girls he pulled, my god you've got to larf An underage ginger Manc and a Norweigan centre half
But those days are far behind him they're in the long ago His barnets getting thinner, his bellys hanging low Now he spends his evenings doing something rude Wanking himself silly over Medieval food.
Photographic evidence of why Dobba didn't get much crack in his youth.