Twenty One Today
I spent my 21st with some friends at Swansea University. Most of the day was pretty nondescript, consisting mostly of drinking beer, stealing traffic cones, etc - general stuff students do in the belief that they're the funniest and most original people yet born.

That evening was spent in the student union bar, where three of my friends independently decided to spike my beer with vodka and keep it quiet. Thus it came to pass that at five minutes to closing time, already an incoherent wreck, I had three pints lined up in front of me - containing seven measures of vodka. I was encouraged of course to polish these off as fast as possible.

I downed them one after the other and turned round to the nice young lady sat next to me, intent on impressing her not only with my drinking prowess but also my wit and charm (which with hindsight consisted mostly of me bellowing "I'm fuckin' twenny one, you.... CUNTS!" at all and sundry)

Except I couldn't even manage that - I faced her, opened my mouth, and promptly projectile vomited all over her.

(NB this was the second time I'd met this girl. The first time we met I, um, was sick on her).

The bar emptied very quickly and I staggered out covered in vomitus intent on eating a kebab - drunken logic here - which I was convinced would settle my stomach. Somehow I bought one, found my way back to my friends' place, and sat down at the table to eat it. I then proceeded to immediately pass out, my face fell into the kebab, I threw up into it, and I pissed myself.

I awoke the next morning on the upstairs landing, stark naked, with a cheese grater in my hand and my head resting on a dead chicken.
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(Ali Bongo 9000 Ali Bongo 9000, Fri 9 Dec 2005, 14:21, Reply)