Never come late
After a shift working in a pub i scooted over to my buddy's house where I found about 12 people all monged to Hades.

"What's going on?" I say.

"Eat the cake" comes the unanimous reply.

"Anything good?"

"EAT THE CAKE!"

Oh..kay. Having only had a stolen brandy I was fresh and willing to join the 'party'. I had some of the hash cake lovingly prepared by the magnificent baker but non-junky girlfriend of said buddy. Trying to impress, she'd thrown in a quarter of the squidgy black stuff we all love and killed everybody. But I didn't know. I had some cake. There was a third left. I thought I had some catching up to do so I had all the cake. Shitneedles. But before the effects..

"Who wants a spliff?" say I.

"Absolutely FUCKING NOT!" say all, obviously all tripping their tits off. "How much did you eat?"

"All of it"

"Shit. Bye bye, man. You'd better go throw it up"

"Nah, I'll be fine"

Nothing happening so i have a couple of biftas. An hour in, watching an Eddie Izzard video I start laughing (which is odd in itself) because I think i'm full of wriggling feathers. Then half way through a bag of crisps they change into lightbulbs and my mouths bleeding all over my hands and legs and I have a good ole scream and chunder like a bastard all over the place. Then a bit of healthy blackness, which i'm greatful for as I don't want to remember how i ended up naked wrapped in a transparent shower curtain unconscious on the bathroom floor being kicked by sober and distressed pretty women.

Never again. Unless you're paying.
(bendyness shows you on the brick where he licked her, Mon 19 Dec 2005, 18:10, Reply)