Another one with alcohol. I am literally a tit, and am probably only posting now as I'm pished.
Chester, UK. Possibly around august 2009. I'd decided to go out with a few old mates from high school, one of whom has a penchant for rediculous hats. I pinched one for the night out as I concluded (apparentlty correctly) that it'd give me immense pulling skills. We eventually wound up in some shitehole goth club (not Rosies, although it did have an upstairs). Whilst getting increasingly hammered I take it upon myself to go in search of "Narnia" and discover the closed bar upstairs. I leap over said bar, in a quest for free alcohol - but find a much greater prize - a fucking tin of black paint! Result! This was like a red rag to a bull in my addled mind. That tin of paint needed fucking opening. Now. I had nothing to hand so I opened it with my teeth, plunged my hand in and wrote my name all over the walls and tables. I then realised if the bouncers found me I'd get my arse (rightfully) kicked, so I legged it out, and ran for hours and hours, taking refuge in chico land (which, as it happened, was about two minutes away). It later transpired that the waitress had seen a guy in a hat daubing his name everywhere, and reported him to the bouncers. Remember my mate who always wears rediculous hats when he goes out? Yeah, he's banned from there now. He has a name very similar to mine, which also didn't help his defence. Sorry, chap.

Apologies for spelling, grammar, lack of intelligible prose, it's 5am, suck the sack.

Length? Six feet high and black.
(brutal stack Raided the beeves of Apollo on, Thu 2 Sep 2010, 5:04, Reply)