A drinking story.
Hazy lines back to when I was a yung lad sitting in a rugby club at a 21st no less. At this age I felt I was pretty much invincible and that the hangover was a myth of biblical proportions that adults made up like the one were touching yourself made you blind.

Feeling rather cocky and wanting to impress all the lovely older ladies I decided to have a few snake bites (cider, lager and blackcurrent) and then feeling slightly amazing one of every single drink and spirit at the bar.

I survived the night and stood waiting for our lift feeling rather sober with my friend and the girl whose father who would be driving us home. I bragged how after such copious amounts of alcohol I could still stand. At which point my mate gently pushed me and I decided to stand in a horizontal state for a few seconds.

Anywho's the girls father arrived in his BRAND NEW Mercedes (which was appropriate as he was a stiff lipped German WITH shaved head). My mate glanced nervously commenting on my less then rosy complexion. I smiled and soothed said friend saying I couldn't be better. Then the car started. I got 50 mtrs and decided we migth not make it to my home town. I got 100 and decided we might ask to get out and get a cab.

Anyway 200 metres and I puked all over said new car. Needless to say we were happily ejected from it's now putrid interior onto a hard shoulder. My mates dad picked us up but I was through barfing. At the gate I handed my mate the key to my house and 5 metres later was balling that I lost my key.

My mate handed me over to my mum and said sorry before running away. I was sat on the side of the bath so I could puke straight to toilet but ended up falling in an puking all over myself. For the next three days I found out that the hangover did exist and discovered that it's actually possible to poison yourself with alcohol.
( dazbrilliantwhites has been meaning to change this..., Sun 26 Sep 2010, 14:21, 4 replies)

I swapped
A Machamp for a Jungleized Pikachu!

What was I thinking?
(iLLmatic, Sun 26 Sep 2010, 14:09, 3 replies)

I have Alzheimers Disease
What was I thinking?

bindun?
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Sun 26 Sep 2010, 12:23, 2 replies)

I was cruising about in
my Honda Accord just after scoring a massive load of drugs of quite biblical proportions. Just as I pass a nightclub of sorts, a load of supermodels pile out and as many get into the car with me as can fit.
They all pleaded in chorus 'Please let us suck your massive cock SLVA'
I looked at them and asked, "Do any of you like raw turnip?'
"Urggh no, what sort of question is that, you weirdo?" they all said and got out the car and cleared off again.

What was I thinking? Calpol isn't even a proper drug anyway is it? Not really. Pah!
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Sun 26 Sep 2010, 12:20, 2 replies)

True story
In a cheap nightclub, working on the 50p vodka and cokes. Girl comes up to me, sucks some face. then she says, "Do you want to dance?"

"Nah," I said. "I'm not drunk enough yet." So she wanders off and finds someone else.
(McChinaman banned, Sun 26 Sep 2010, 8:15, Reply)

Just remembered this!
I'm not sure if this is a common "pulling" technique anywhere apart from my slightly backwards North Eastern town, but I've seen it work before for female friends.

Essentially, once Friend A has become tired of Friend B gawping over an attractive boy, Friend A will wait till the object of desire comes within a metre or so of the group en route to the bar then suddenly shove Friend A into their path.

Some apologising and small talk inevitably follows, followed by much face-sucking, and occaissionally a relationship. Remember; I've seen it happen!

So one day I'm out with friends and on my way to the bar when suddenly a girl flies into my path (seemingly drunk from the way she's off caught balance) and falls into my arms.

"You alright love?" I ask, as I place her right-way up.
"Yeah" she smiles, looking up at me.
"Good, good" I reply.

Then carry on walking to the bar; that Jack Daniel's and Coke's got my name on it. Om nom nom!

I don't see her again.

This has happened on two seperate occassions and I never realise what *should* have happened until I get home...

Cock end!!!!
(SpongeGavShitPants, Sun 26 Sep 2010, 6:56, 3 replies)

drunk fireworks
despite all rumours to the contrary,

Playing with proper fireworks when uproariously drunk is probably the most fun you can have while wearing trousers.
Bloody stupid but I regret nothing.
(teasus likes tea, Sun 26 Sep 2010, 1:27, 3 replies)

A pea... of sorts
Some years back, a few of my friends came up with a game.

Take one serving(whatever the recommended dose) of ipecac.
Then begin to eat skittles. The last one to vomit would be declared the winner.
There were 7 of us.

No one was or even felt like a winner that day or the day after. One friend ended up in the hospital as his throat wouldn't stop bleeding.
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Sun 26 Sep 2010, 1:08, 2 replies)

The Amazing Shitting Cardboard Box!
I remember one time years ago, I was about 10 or 11 years old and a couple of my mates and I were just making our way home after a kickabout in the park.

It was a cracking summers day during the school holidays, we were all in a jovial mood and life was good. I was, however, bursting for a shite and was in a bit of a rush to get home. We were passing a private car park behind a sports hall when I spotted a massive oblong cardboard box.

That was when I had my 'brainwave'.

"Watch this!" I said to my mates.

The plan was to pull the box over my head and crouch inside it, take down my breeks and skegs, curl out a perfectly formed steaming turd, do myself up again and then move away from it whilst still inside the box. In my head I imagined that this would be the most spectacular thing my friends would ever see in their lives, this marvellous image of a shitting box!

Well, it didn't quite work out that way.

After lowering the box over myself and dropping my jeans and Ys, I squatted and let go.

It was utter fucking carnage.

My poor wee arse exploded and slurrys of stagnant shite splattered the inside and outside of my pants and jeans. It was all over the backs of my legs, my socks and my trainers. And the smell! Sweet Jebus, that fucking smell. And I hadn't even thought about what I was going to wipe my arse with!

I threw the box off in a panic and stood there speechless looking at my pals, my denims half up/down with most of my bottom half covered in my own waste. They stared back with looks of shock and terror, then after realising what had just happened they erupted with laughter and glee. Bastards.

I somehow made it home without drawing too much attention to myself and told my mum that I had fell in dog shit. Thankfully she didn't pursue the issue of how dog shite had ended up on the inside of my jeans and all over my pants.

Not my brightest moment.
(Helmut McBucket invites you to pull his finger on, Sun 26 Sep 2010, 0:58, 9 replies)

Sometimes the right thing to do isn't the right thing to do....
In my younger days, I secretly hated myself. In fact, I frequently sabotaged my owns attempts at losing my virginity.

The first was my long distance girlfriend who had come to visit me from far far away. She said she didn't want to have sex.... until one thing led to another and she announced she wanted nothing more in the world than have sex with me right there and then. Instead of doing the right thing, I talked her out of it, pointing out that she had, up until a few minutes ago, had different wishes.

The next attempt was with another (not so long distance) girlfriend. Who after many months of *sigh* waiting told me she was finally ready. Trying to be a nice boyfriend, I told her not to feel pressured, and that she could take as much time as she needed, to make sure she really wanted to.

She took her time. And then changed her mind.

What was I thinking?!?
(DTBrush, Sun 26 Sep 2010, 0:37, Reply)

Gawd
Just spent half an hour going through the videos on a shock site. It's a really really bad shock site. Sounds almost like the short term for New York City and that's probably all the clue I can give...

But eeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwaaaaaarghhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa FUCK!!
( whenanimalsattackhumans clad in global hypercolour, Sun 26 Sep 2010, 0:29, 4 replies)

About a Boy
Appologies for lenght in advance.

Not so long ago, when I was still in University I was dating a lad called Alex. It was going well so one weekend I decided to take him to my friends 21st birthday party back home and introduce him to my parents. We drove up on the Friday afternoon and he met my parents all was going well and we started getting ready to go to my mates birthday party and night out.
Me being a proper Geordie I drink like fish and swear like a trooper, him being a southerner was a little prim and proper and could manage about 2 pints and he was pissed.
There a drink we have locally called skittles (different variations around the country) and its quiet strong and get you very pissed quiet quickly. Being the nice girlfriend that I am warned him not to keep up with me and my friends and not to drink skittle as he can’t even handle 2 pints.
So we head off to the party and start drinking, enjoying many pints of classy cider with shot chasers. I’m a little tipsy and he’s off his head we head to our favourite club where the drinks are on 2 for 1. My friends being in the mood for fun decided to buy him skittles. After about 6 of these I notice that he is falling all over the place and completely off his face, for the purpose of damage limitation I was drinking his drinks extra free drinks as well as mine. I knew it was time to go home when I found him sat outside the lads toilets talking absolute shit and could walk. I’m only 5’3” but I manage to pick him up carry him out the club, get a taxi and get him back to my parents.
My parents being slightly old strict made us sleep in separate bed to protect my virtue, which may i say went years ago and no protection required. I undresses him and puts him into bed and give him a bucket to be sick in (classy I know) and goes into my bedroom. About 5 minutes I hear a very loud bang (shit! I hope it hasn’t woke my parents) I go into his room and find him lying on the floor so I pick him up and put him back in bed and again go back to my room. 10 min later I hear him stumbing about and make it to the toilet, I being pissed and comfortable in bed decide to not get up and make sure he’s ok, BIG MISTAKE. The next thing I hear is him vomiting but the noise isn’t the noise you normally hear of someone being sick it the toilet. I out of bed like a shot and across the landing to the toilet, I open the door the find him covered in bright green sick (thanks to the skittles) and the toilet walls, carpet and toilet cover in sick. At this point I couldn’t give a shit if I woke my parent up I yell at him at the top of my voice “what the fuck have you done!” I pick him up by the back of his t-shirt drag him into the bathroom and chuck him in the bath.
At this point both of my parents are out of bed and have come to see what was going on, my mum bless her went n got the cleaning products, while my dad walks into the bathroom takes one look at Alex turns the shower on and starts pissing himself in laughter whilst showering him off and cleaning him up and drags him into his bedroom and puts him back to bed. At this point me and my mum are cleaning the toilet and pissing ourselves in laughter at Alex and my dad.
The next day he didn’t surface till about 6pm, Id been shopping, out for lunch and was getting ready to meet my dad and brother in the pub by the time he got up. He was a rough as gandies flip flop and you know what my answer was for that. “Get ya sel dressed were going to the pub in 20 mins to meet me da!”
Entering the pub all the lads at the bar had heard the story of the previous night and had aptly name him “spewie” and he looked rather sheepish and mortified that everyone knew what had happened. Did I give him sympathy? Did I shit! He got the worst ribbing from me! And guess what we did to him that night got him even more pissed on pints of John Smiths and Sambuca chasers!
Driving back home the next day he hardly spoke to me in the car on the way back to university, and once back into typical university life, I decided that I wanted a more manly man and he was so mortified about what had happened we split up.
What was I thinking introducing him to my parents, note to self make sure you man can handle his drink before taking him home to meet my parents and it could cost me the price of new carpet!
(snugglesacks, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 22:56, 2 replies)

I've moved to Russia...
'Nuff said?
(Mr.Cunt whacked his knob out in Asda on, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 22:23, 6 replies)

Here's another!
Two weeks ago, whilst at work, I said "Fuck."

Now I'm under review as that word specifically is against policy.
My problem is, they can't show me the policy. They also do not know the entire conversation that went on nor did they realize I say fuck a whole fuckin lot. It's probably my favorite fuckin word.

I know I can't lose my job, but it does hinder any chance for promotion. But I hate the company, so meh.

My reply to the allegations? "Yeah, what the fuck's wrong with saying fuck?"
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 22:17, 6 replies)

typed in "http://boards.4chan.org/b/" on my browser
Looked harmless at first then Jeeeeesus wept!

Locked the door, ran ccleaner and smashed the HDD with a lumphammer just to be on the safe side.

Then someone mentioned motherless.com [Edit: NSFL]

Will I never learn?
( buffet_the_appetite_slayer ٩(●̮̃•)۶ jacked in to the ICE on, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 21:07, 2 replies)

Insensitive
I temp'ed for about a year before I went to uni to save a bit of extra spending cash, and found myself working in the MOD main building in Whitehall. I was working for some architects who were redisigning the interior of the building and hence were based on site for surveys etc.
One of the guys there was ex-paramilitary, and had been forced to retire after a parachute fail. He'd suffered some spinal injury in the fall; his mobility was saved but he was left with a profound stutter.
One morning he asked if he could have a look through my copy of the Metro - replete with agonising stuttering. I turned to face him and instinctively (and that's the worst part, for me) mocked his stutter by saying "er, er, er, er" whilst looking him in the eye. Not a conscious decision but my brain obviously thought it was the right thing to do.
As I was blurting out this verbal atrocity I suddenly realised what I was doing and wished I could die on the spot. I apologised profusely but it was way too late for that.
Everyone within earshot was slack jawed in disgust.
Phil - if you're reading this - that moment has haunted me ever since (about 10 years and counting) and I really am sorry I was such a prick. You were a top guy, too.
(i.charlius *Two Ronnies Theme*, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 20:04, 7 replies)

I was in love with a guy who wasn't in love with me.
When I found he'd been trawling Craigslist for other women to fuck, I forgave him.

When I found out he was still shagging his ex, I forgave him.

When he dumped me so he could 'be on his own and get his head together' and then 5 minutes later get engaged to another women, did I forgive him?

Pfft!
( girlinthehole, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 17:16, 8 replies)

Yet another turned down threesome....
She was a completely flat chested boy-woman creature with the personalty of an angry spoilt child. He was bearded, big nosed, Welshmen.

Not a decision I've lost much sleep over to be honest.
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Sat 25 Sep 2010, 14:57, 2 replies)

I don't have a bloody clue what I was thinking about...
A few of us went for a post work drink, one of those 5:30pm couple of pints that degenerates into a messy chucking out time mid-week shambles.

I was in a beer and whisky mood and really 'tied one one' as I believe the kids like to say.

Semi conscious I slumped into the passenger seat of my mates car and immediately fell asleep. Now, I don't remember this bit, but near his house, apparently, I woke up, mumbled something about going too fast and wrenched the handbrake on. The car immediately fishtailed, hit a signpost and ended up on it's side.

It was only later, once we'd got the car hidden and we were safely home, that my mate asked me what the fuckity fuck I thought I had been doing. Embarrassed I felt obliged to buy the clearly written off motor from him for it's pre-crash value. I do hope it happened how he said.
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Sat 25 Sep 2010, 14:36, Reply)

Rumbling guts of doom
I appear to have brought this hot bird home with me last night.




What was I drinking!?
(R. Jimlad twitter.com/sirmarkymark, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 14:31, 2 replies)

Absinthe.
Dear God, absinthe.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 12:37, 14 replies)

Dreadlocks....
That is all.
(Scrumpy does not negotiate with terrorists,, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 12:24, 1 reply)

haha bonk
I used to work in the kitchen of a restaurant in Stockport and one evening I had to empty a box of butter into the big walk-in fridge.
The butter needed to be stacked on to the top shelf and instead of putting the butter packets in one at a time, I had a vision - I'd throw the butter packets all at once and they'd land - cartoon style' in a perfect 'brick wall'...

So, I hugged as many packets in my arms as I could and went into the fridge. Unfortunately, this gave me very little leverage to throw the packets on to the shelf so I needed to jump. And jump I did, forgetting I had about an inch clearance above my head to the heavy metal roof.

The chef found me sat on the floor, surrounded by mis-shapen butter packets, clutching my ringing cranium.

Bah.
( scoshi pretending to diet since, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 11:27, Reply)

Immac on the bollocks
Had plenty of time to ruminate on my decision while it felt like my scrotum was on fire.
(mymilkshakebringsallthemongstotheyard poison hearts, poison minds - joining hate, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 11:01, 6 replies)

Wrong Answer
She was lovely, the type of girl I dreamed about. Smart, sassy, pretty, energetic and loved an extended rumble between the sheets.

Things were progressing well, meeting respective parents, first long weekend away together doing interesting things and having that crazy monkey sex you only get when a relationship is new and fresh.

On the last night of our little sojourn away together, we had dinner in a nice restaurant and had light and funny, yet painfully truthful conversations about funny things from our pasts. Somehow the convo got around to someone having cheated on one of us and the appropriate tut tutting from the other (I can't remember who was the cheated and who was the tutter) when she looked at me wistfully and asked,

"If you cheated on me would you tell me"

"NO WAY!" I replied,

what was I thinking? "I would never cheat on you" or "if I was so stupid to do this I couldn't live with the guilt" or even, "would you tell me".

The relationship sort slowly disintegrated after that, a few weeks later she gently dumped me, said she just didn't think she could trust me.
(bad_advice QOTW survivor from the first trollocost!, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 9:19, 1 reply)

Leaving Australia
To escape Australia I accepted a 75% pay cut, 100 hour work weeks, seperation from my friends and family for the opportunity to work in China. As of yet, I havent seen the country and have spent 95% of my time infront of a computer doing ridiculously bad work.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.
(augsav forgot about B3ta, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 9:09, Reply)

Leaving Australia
After finishing uni, we (me and the lady) never got anywhere in life. We both had shit jobs, a tiny basement flat that was damp (from the Cheltenham floods) and no prospects of going any further in life.

One day I got some cash from my family (I helped sell the house my parents lived in - due to separation) so I decided to do something big with it (the in-laws wanted me to buy a house in Cheltenham - NO FUCKING WAY!). I got two working visas and got a plane to live in Oz!

From getting a good biology degree from a good university, I got nowhere in the UK. Three months in Oz, I had a nice flat, very cool job working in a property development company by Sydney harbour and a beaten up (but still excellent 4x4). Amazing weather, great place to work (that's another story all together) nice house and car.

Why did I leave? Visa ran out and I couldn't find sponsorship in time. What do I do now? I help run a caravan park which are full of fucking moany, rude cunts who I wouldn't piss on if they were on fire.

Not a day goes by where I don't think about what I use to have. I would do anything to go back.
(RJWEcology is just sharpening his axe on, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 7:33, 14 replies)

In a gay bar
I had a gay flatmate when I was a student, and he took me round a few gay bars in nearby Glasgow. He found it all very amusing (especially because at the time I looked like a "twink"), thinking I was very sheltered and didn't know much about teh gay. But anyway, it was all a bit ridiculous, crap Hi-NRG choons from the DJ, bitchy queens drinking alcopops, older men on the prowl, fag hags dancing like they just didn't care, and scene queens looking jadedly for fresh meat. You know how these places are.

I was standing drinking a beer (in an attempt to look heterosexual) when a girl came up to me and said "My friend fancies you". She was fit and tidy, and I agreed to go over, imagining she was with female friends. WRONG! She was with some wrinkly old Glaswegian guy, who spouted an unfathomable torrent of Glasweegie at me. Politely I didn't run away (as every instinct in my mind was screaming at me to do) but stood and stoically finished my drink, then said "I'm sorry, but I'm not into you at all, bye." There was no way he was getting a chance at my rectum.

BUT WHY DIDN'T I LOOK AND SEE WHO SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT FIRST? Why did I think she's set me up with a girl, when we were in a gay bar? What was I thinking?!
(McChinaman banned, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 3:09, 5 replies)

I let loose the secret...
I told someone who knows me what my B3ta username was. They know me... I am afraid...
(IdlePeAcEsign if trouble were my mistress, i'd send her to them, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 2:54, 6 replies)

Anything for a pretty face
Near Christmas last year, I was in town after a haircut. My bank acount was finaly on the mend, so I went to buy some shit I didn't need. Then I saw her.

She was stunning, the most beautiful blue-green eyes, bright red lips, perfect teeth. She strolled up to me and initiates a conversation. It seems she wanted me to sign up for a homeless charity. I wanted to say no, but I looked into her eyes, her smile, I coulden't say no. So I signed up, monthly donations leave my account. £100 spent because I can't say no to a pretty girl.

What was I honestly expecting, give money to her charity and she will fall madly in love with me? Did I think that her flirting was anything but sales skills? Thank god it's a cause I actualy belive in.
(Mong goose, Sat 25 Sep 2010, 2:54, 1 reply)