Grab A Grot
Me and my sidekick, Denty, used to often go out on the pull in Manchester. When I say often I mean every night except Thursdays and Sundays (my poor liver) and one of our ways to keep ourselves amused was to pick a type of bird that we intended to pull that night. As usual, the prize was a pint. We'd pick blondes, redheads, black-girls, hippies, rockers, disco-chicks - basically the rule was you had to trap off with whatever that nights target was.

This one night the target was brunettes. We had a few beers while trawling through our favourite hunting grounds before eventually ending up heading for the "Swinging Sporran" - our favourite rock bar. As we were getting served with more wife-beater we got into conversation with a lovely brunette at the bar. It was obvious that she fancied both if us (or rather was too pissed to give a fuck who she shagged) so me and Denty were competing with each other for her attention. After a while Denty pulled me aside and said:

"Fuck this mate - life's too short to argue over a tart. Let's forget her and have a grab-a-grot night instead, Bet you a pint that I can pull a bigger horror than you can. Meet you back here at 1 o'clock - may the best man win"

And so the competition was on. The night wore on and at at 1am I headed back to meet Denty with my prize. I'd picked up a fat, wall-eyed spastic (one leg shorter than the other) with a squint. There might have been a hunch as well but the details are lost in the mists of time. I got to our meeting place and, as I lay back against a wall with this grunter clawing at my knackers, Denty turned up with his arm around gorgeous brunette from earlier and handed me a pint.

"Looks like you won mate" he grinned.

I hit him.

Still banged the monster in the car-park though. Waste not want not. Then again I was
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 4 Aug 2005, 11:47, Reply)