blood on the dancefloor
have you ever noticed that, when you're drunk, pain doesn't, well, hurt?

i'm very glad of this.

one night, my mates and i went to our usual drinking pit. it was £10 to get in, then all your drinks were free. being the greedy bastards that we are, we were gulping down the headache juice as fast as we could. as a result, we were soon very drunk.
one of my mates had come out straight from work, wearing his steel toe-capped boots. i, on the other hand, was wearing open-toed sandals. during a sedate amble around the dancefloor to the strains of gloria gaynor, he brought his size 12 down sharply onto my unprotected foot.
crunch! went my toenail, as it split in two. then, crunch! squeak! it went, as he pulled his foot-and my toenail-away.

we may not have been drinking claret, but there was plenty spilling from my mangled hoof.

our other mate sauntered over with a bottle of some variety of alcopop, which he proceeded to pour over my foot, muttering as he did so about "sterilising qualities" of alcohol.

the dancefloor was now liberally coated in an orangey-brown sticky mass, which was quite nauseating to look at. fortunately, the pain fairy was running late, so i felt fine to continue dancing the night away.

did i mention that i was pissed?

my mate took my hands and said "come and dance with me."
that's the last thing i remember.
however, my mates took great pleasure the following day in telling me that, despite the fact that my upper body followed him towards the dancefloor, my feet stayed firmly where they were, which resulted in me hitting the floor chest first(and bouncing a little, apparently). this, finally, saw us evicted from the club.
not content with the carnage i'd already wreaked, i fell down the stairs outside the club, too.

sitting the next morning with a manky, swollen foot and the hangover from hell, i still firmly believed it was one of our best nights out ever.

length? the damn thing took 2 months to grow back!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 8 Aug 2008, 18:16, 3 replies)

£10 to get in
then the drinks are free?

Let me ask that again.

THE DRINKS ARE FREE?

Have you any idea the damage I could do to myself in a place like that?

I must never know the address! Never! :P

Also.... Ow! I live in fear of my nails being removed after a guy in my year at school pulled his own out on one hand because he was bored. I expect he's dead by now.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Sat 9 Aug 2008, 0:50, closed)

Why would anyone pull their own nail out?
And more importantly, how did he do it? Did he use scissors or something?
( waffle1 is lurking on, Sat 9 Aug 2008, 2:01, closed)

@ BB
it doesn't matter if you know the address, the place closed down about a year later! we were there for the last night, which i spent off my tits, pole-dancing on a podium, wearing a blue velvet suit, with my hair in 2 bun-things and sprayed blue. got so drunk i fell over and my boobs fell out!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sat 9 Aug 2008, 2:57, closed)