Then the referee blew his whistle and it all kicked off.

( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Thu 16 Jan 2014, 13:19, Reply)

Shambo will never be last in my eyes.
He has me on ignore, so I can't see any of his posts.
(username failed moderation, Thu 16 Jan 2014, 12:13, 5 replies)

I would like to second my learned friend Dr Preference in his congratulations toward our dear friend Dr. Shambolic

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Thu 16 Jan 2014, 12:11, Reply)

Congratulations to Dr Shambolic for coming LAST.

( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Thu 16 Jan 2014, 11:16, 4 replies)

Last.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 16 Jan 2014, 10:02, 5 replies)

It's Thursday, right?
Bob enjoyed his lucrative career working in the gold mines of Western Australia. The money was excellent, his expertise was revered and his workmates were a great bunch, always up for hijinks and drunken escapades. But he sat in the doctor's office, shattered by the news of the screening results. The toxins had so thoroughly infested his body, despite his vigorous health and amazing capacity to resist levels of alcohol that would kill lesser men, that at best he had a few days left to get his affairs in order. Despite recent advances, there was no treatment available that would be effective quickly enough to save him.
He left the clinic and returned to what he knew best. Half an hour later, he staggered from the pub and leaned heavily against a low circular wall. His head was spinning so he sat on the wall hoping the dizziness would subside. It seemed like the earth wobbled and he slid backwards and found himself bent double, plunging downwards, unable to grab at the slippery sides.
He regained consciousness in the water and somehow found a ladder. Up he went. Maybe it was this near death experience, maybe it was the icy cold water, maybe it was the slow climb from darkness to bright sunlight, but he had never felt better, more alive, once he returned to the surface. He went back to the doctor and insisted that the tests be performed again. To his delight, the results came back all clear. The doctor was confounded. "I suppose the first results might have been a false positive", he said, "but that is very unlikely when it comes to heavy metal poisoning."
But Bob knew there was a different explanation - well that arse chelated quakely.
( wakeupandsmellthebacon, Thu 16 Jan 2014, 8:13, 2 replies)

Some guy
pissed on my rug; and it really tied the room together.
(kitescreech still here, Thu 16 Jan 2014, 0:28, 2 replies)

I was once at the supermarket and a woman asked me where the coffee was
Long story short, I pissed in my own mouth
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Thu 16 Jan 2014, 0:25, Reply)

A small town in Suffolk
Karl and I had been out drinking all night and were stumbling through the streets in search of food, when we bumped into his younger sister insulting a rather chavvy acquaintance of hers. We were therefore in the perfect position to observe when thirty of his mates and forty of hers rounded opposing corners and decided to settle the matter with fists.

We sat on a bench for a minute or so and observed the seventy chav running battle that had erupted from nowhere - literally within seconds - before I made what was possibly the most laconic 999 call ever. "Yeah, there's a fight by the church. About seventy people. Weapons? Nah, can't see any but I heard glass smashing a moment ago. Oh, there it is again, listen *holds up phone in direction of the fight*".

Within seconds five police cars, a police landrover, two police vans and an ambulance rolled up. Took all of them to break it up too.
( MatJ LOOK, Wed 15 Jan 2014, 19:41, 2 replies)

FIRST
Mods pls delete previous 20-odd stories.
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Wed 15 Jan 2014, 18:55, Reply)

While on holiday
I left dinner to check on the kids, the oldest one was acting up a bit and, well.....
( Muns, Wed 15 Jan 2014, 17:59, 5 replies)

In only a few years he went from petty bakery theft to President.

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Wed 15 Jan 2014, 16:56, Reply)

Yes it did escalate
quickly and then it died at about 2145 last night
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Wed 15 Jan 2014, 15:13, 6 replies)

Daleks
Daleks are a major PITA. Wherever they appear, death and destruction inevitably follow. The monomaniacal pepperpots only know how to do one thing and they do it well. If there's single point of agreement between me and that bastard the Doctor it's that the universe would be a better place without the fucking things. But the Skarosian buggers simply refuse to die out and are always popping up here and there to seek locate and exterminate ‘lesser’ races i.e. every cunt but them. And don't get me started on that wanker Davros.

A long time ago, in one of my early incarnations, I was of an idealistic bent, and you could say somewhat naive. I'd set myself up as a conflict negotiator and my services were much in demand. One day I got a call from the Council of the Ghoji asking me to mediate in a dispute between them and - yes, you guessed it! - the Daleks.

I should have heeded the Lesson of Temmosus and turned it down, but as I said, I was young and innocent. And, with hindsight, bloody stupid. What the fuck would Daleks want a peace conference for? I was soon to find out...

The Ghoji are, or were, a beautiful race; tall, slender, goat-like humanoids. Imagine Planet of the Apes, but with goats. Planet of the Goats, then. They were gentle pacifists with a peaceful and prosperous empire covering seventeen star systems in the Recusmetis Galaxy. They had a highly developed culture, and were fantastic musicians. Seek out recordings of the Ghoji Synthonika, you won't be disappointed. Unfortunately, one day the Daleks turned up on their doorstep. Weirdly, they didn't immediately conquer and destroy as is their usual MO, but instead, when the Ghoji leaders asked for a peace conference, the Daleks agreed. Little did they know at the time that this was only a stay of execution.

The Ghoji contacted me to handle the negotiations, and like a fool I accepted. I rocked up to Ghoji Prime a few days in advance so I could sample some of the local culture and, of course, fuck a load of young rubbery goaty bodies. Come the day of the conference, which took place in a giant glass hotel overlooking rolling parkland. The Ghoji leaders sat on one side of a long table, half a dozen Daleks the other side, and me at the head of the table, slap bang in the middle. To say I was a bit nervous is the understatement of the millennium.

Once the ceremonial glang had been vonged, Mhoam Vlaghmrhm, the Ghoji leader, stood up to speak. A tall, slender, beautiful goatlike being, clad in pastel robes, wonderful lambent brown eyes. She cleared her throat to speak. 'Welcome -'

That's as far as she got. 'EXTERMINATE!' screamed all six Daleks in unison. I ducked under the table as they unleashed their death-rays upon the Ghoji delegation. High-pitched caprine ululations reached my ears as the Ghoji screamed and died. There was a not unpleasant smell of roasted goat.

'Well, that escalated quickly,' I muttered to myself as I legged it from the conference room.

I realised later that the bastard Daleks had only agreed to the peace conference as a sort of joke, to amuse themselves - maybe they had got sick of just wading in and blasting everything to fuck, and wanted to try something different. Or maybe it was to send a message. But I didn't know that at the time and was more concerned with my own survival.

I managed to hide in a broom cupboard, from which I could peer out at a wide concourse. Ghoji were milling about shrieking and being mown down by the Daleks - thousands more of which had landed immediately after the end of the 'talks.' I watched a brace of Ghoji run up some stairs - and a Dalek surge at surprising speed up after them and blast them to atoms.

'Well, that escalated quickly,' I muttered to myself, retreating to the very back of the cupboard and hiding under some towels.

To cunt a long story short, I managed to make it back to my TARDIS and escape. The entire Ghoji civilisation was completely wiped out. I regenerated shortly afterwards, and was never so naive again.
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Tue 14 Jan 2014, 21:45, 15 replies)

You know how it is, a few drinks in to an evening out with the lads or work colleagues, a birthday or Christmas do,
when you offer to get a round in because people were doing rounds when there were four of you and now there's twelve of you, but it's your turn and plain good manners mean open the offer to newcomers and you're sure you'll be fine because everyone will get a round in and actually, I've spent £70 but I'm due everyone's return pints so I'll see it back and Whoa, am I actually going to drink 16 pints tonight? No... ah well never mind and....add a kebab, a taxi...the next morning you are left wondering how your wallet is still smoking from when you burned through £100 in one night but only drank 7 pints.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Tue 14 Jan 2014, 21:27, 34 replies)

A real story…
This involves my dad, back in the late 60s.

He was taking a local girl out for a drink on possibly their second date. They’d gone for a day out in the country and had stopped off at a pub in town for some refreshments. It was a pretty rough pub, not perhaps the place to take prospective girlfriend material.

Anyway the old man went up to the bar and was about to order another pint, but before he could speak, the barman leant in and told him quietly that it’s best he left right now if he wanted to remain in one piece. Taken aback, he began to protest before a group of angry looking men marched into the pub.

Not wanting to fulfil the landlords prophecy, he hastily made his way back to the table and told the girl that they were “leaving right now”.

As they left the pub through the main double doors, they just missed another large group of men with ‘Irish’ accents, all “dodgy gold and bad BO” (apparently).

About 10 seconds later they heard shouting, then moments later all hell broke loose, before a body came flying through one of the large windows at the front of the pub. My dad’s date let out an almighty scream as they both broke into a jog to escape the mayhem.

It turns out some squaddies had arranged a punch up with some nearby travellers after a previous disagreement in local nightclub. So it went from a quiet beer to West Side Story in about 30 seconds.
(Deskbound You insignificant speck of dust, Tue 14 Jan 2014, 16:45, 6 replies)

i thought anchorman was a shit film

( The Doveston haunted by the memory of his own amnesia, Tue 14 Jan 2014, 16:39, 16 replies)

I went backstage at the panto
Nearly got raped before I was rescued by the Chuckle Brothers.
(McChinaman banned, Tue 14 Jan 2014, 15:16, 3 replies)

I once stumbled at the bottom of an escalator and flung myself into the bottom step and I was properly wobbling and nearly shit myself but then it was OK because they were actually stairs.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Tue 14 Jan 2014, 12:37, 11 replies)