Drunk dad.
Not me but my dad and I couldn't stop laughing. The man liked a drink I will admit.

In one of the old houses I lived in my dad had done up the attic into a game room of sorts. By gameroom I mean it had a tv, record player and Sinclair Spectrum ZX. One night after his usual 4 cans of Tennants there was a loud bang and some mumbled swearwords. My dad had lost his balance coming down the ladder and scraped a large portion of skin from his nose.

All the while my mum was covering his bloody nose in gauze I couldn't stop laughing despite the threats of a good beating especially after I'd investigated the attic to find he'd spilt his beer on the way down.

Two weeks later my dad's nose was all but healed. I was sat in the front room watching the A-Team and there was a loud bang followed by slightly louder swearwords. My dad, after several more Tennants had walked into the closed door to the room and skinned his nose again. He couldn't argue with me for laughing that time, especially since the door was wood and far from invisible...
(chakaflange, Sun 23 Dec 2007, 17:46, Reply)