1066 and all that...
In my first year at uni I lived with a really lovely bloke from the Newcastle area called Dave. Dave would quite often have his friends from back home over and we would indulge in a few beers and illicits and head out to the uni bar.

On one occasion, a particular friend named Lee had had perhaps one too many beers and a few illicits too many and went home early not feeling too chipper. About an hour later my slightly inebrated brain figured out that he may not have been able to get in the door as we had the keys. As it was not too far away I decided to head home and make sure he was ok (the promise of a top-up of illicits had nothing to do with it, this was an entirely magnanimous mission).

On reaching the end of my street I heard a house alarm going off. Nothing unusual in this, I thought. This is Middlesbrough after all. Getting closer to the house I realised it was coming from my own dwelling. Beginning to panic I tried the handle. Locked. Fumbling with my keys slightly I got the door open and quickly punched in the alarm code, 1066. The alarm stopped. I happened to look at my fingers and saw they were all red. I then realised that the scene in front of me would not have been out of place at the Battle of Hastings.

There were streaks of blood all over the alarm, on the light switch, all the way up the walls and the bannister leading upstairs. Experiencing a strange sensation of simultaneously sobering up and being gripped by drug paranoia I headed upstairs. The trail of blood led to the bathroom, in which I found Lee slumped by the loo groaning and draped in reddening toilet roll, like a menstrual Andrex puppy.

It turns out that, unable to open the front door, he had remembered my other housemate saying we would leave the back door unlocked (for no other reason than noone could be bothered to lock it). Now, this was one of these terraced houses that you access by a back alley and through the gate into the yard of each individual house, surrounded by high wall embedded with broken glass and festooned with barbed wire. Imagine a cross between Corrie and a Wilfred Owen poem and you're nearly there. On finding the gate locked, Lee and put one foot one the handle and hauled himself onto to the wall, promptly gashing himself open on the glass. He then rolled right over the top into a heap in the yard, bringing the barbed wire down on top of him. Lee had got in the back door, promptly setting off the alarm. After a few failed attempts to turn it off he had headed upstairs to clean himself up, which was where I found him.

Luckily, beyond some nasty gashes and bruises where he'd fallen, no serious damage had been done.
( Boss Keloid Got your mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm, Mon 11 Aug 2008, 23:00, 7 replies)

'menstrual Andrex puppy'
deserves
*click*
( thealternativefact, Mon 11 Aug 2008, 23:28, closed)

Ours were all
1066. Except for 1212 which was the house number also.
( Mrs Entity is in hiding., Tue 12 Aug 2008, 0:20, closed)

"Experiencing a strange sensation of simultaneously sobering up and being gripped by drug paranoia I headed upstairs."
i like it
(chickensoupforyourface, Tue 12 Aug 2008, 2:10, closed)

Imagine a cross between Corrie and a Wilfred Owen poem
superb
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Tue 12 Aug 2008, 8:43, closed)

??
You went out leaving a door unlocked? In the 'boro??!
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Tue 12 Aug 2008, 8:48, closed)

Glass top walls...
So brutal but as above portrays, most effective.

*clicks* for both "Menstrual Andrex Puppy" & "the promise of a toup up of illicits".
( the dalai farmer always likes tea, but especially on, Tue 12 Aug 2008, 8:57, closed)