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This is a question Bad Dates

Tell us about your least successful date. Arrive late? Forget their name? Show them goatse on your phone just as the main course arrived? Or was it the other way around?

(, Thu 17 Oct 2013, 16:27)
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A reposted tale of drink and MASSIVE drugs:
So I was trying to get to do sex to a girl. She was also quite the prick-tease, I found out later, but for the time being, we were just getting drunk together.

"We should go back to mine" she said, raising my trousers, "but first let's have a drink in the The Fox".

As we walked there, both a few drinks under, she took out some prescription pills and took one - "They're for my epilepsy" she explained, "Would you like one?"

"You're alright" I said, remembering Romania with horrid accuracy.

"Oh go on!" she giggled, "All my friends do - they just calm my epilepsy, but they say they make you really nice and mellow ... very ... sensual ... " she said. I would like to point out that in previous discussion she'd hinted that not only was she not averse to, but quite keen on a little back door action.

"I dunno ... " I said, playing the part of idiot, easily-led student to a tee.

"They're really good" she said, popping one in my mouth slowly, letting her fingers trail my lips.

___________________________


I remember being kicked in the stomach - sort of gently, but repeatedly.

"Oi!" said God, "OI!"

Something sounded like a radio crackling.

"Fuck it" said God, "Let's just get the fucker out and get fucking closed"

I was flying. Beautiful, cold air on my skin. My arms hurt, but I was fine, flying through the cold night, refreshed - lovely.

Then my face hit the floor with a crack. Oh well.

God came back, this time with a kinder, softer tone, "You alright, mate? You from the college? I think he's from the college"

"I am indeed from the college" I instructed them, "I wonder if I could trouble you for the loan of twenty pounds with which to hire a public carriage, that I might hoof off? I hope that my mate Dan's awake, and that I might spend the night on his floor, as I know his liberal attitude to accommodation will be prevalent, and he lives not far from here. Would you mind? I would be most obliged."

"I dunno" said God, "Isn't he a mate of Dan's?"

"I AM a mate of Dan's!" I said, "As I instructed you! Now, twenty pounds, if you please!"

The summer passed, and soon the cool of autumn was making me shiver.

"Dan, mate? Yeah. You got a mate with a red mohican? Yeah. Yeah. Well he's outside The Fox and he's ... yeah. No. He's proper fucked. Yeah. Yeah OK - you what? Oh mate - yeah sure - yeah OK mate. Yeah that's cool."

I remember noting that Dan had grown a beard, and looked handsome with it. A small chap but deceptively strong, he swore at me profusely for some reason, and there was something to do with a blanket.

The morning arrived, and with it breakfast of tea and a sausage sandwich. A trip to the park to enjoy the mid-summer sun was arranged, and throughout it I alternately shivered and sweated, and occassionally pulled myself to the bushes to dry heave. In the afternoon I managed to get back to mine, where I spent two days in bed flitting from consciousness to sleep, with no real distinction between them. I could not focus for a week on whether or not I existed beyond mild physical discomfort.

I never did get to have sex with the girl.
(, Sat 19 Oct 2013, 14:54, 4 replies)
As a Epi myself
I can say that the pills I have are about as mind altering as aspirin.
(, Mon 21 Oct 2013, 11:14, closed)
Then I must have had some sort of allergic reaction, then.
Because I was fucked. Proper fucked. Scarily dead-in-the-gutter-with-no-one-to-notice fucked.
(, Tue 22 Oct 2013, 11:30, closed)
The side effects list is worryingly huge
but I don't remember seeing 'Scarily dead-in-the-gutter-with-no-one-to-notice fucked' on the list.
(, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 9:04, closed)

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