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This is a question Gambling

Broke the bank at Las Vegas, or won a packet of smokes for getting your tinkle out in class? Outrageous, heroic or plain stupid bets.

Suggested by SpankyHanky

(, Thu 7 May 2009, 13:04)
Pages: Popular, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Cheating buggers at William Hill
I'm not a gambler - never have been. There's never been any attraction for me in putting a bet on - don't get me wrong, I'm not anti-gambling, it just doesn't float my boat. I'm 25 and I've never even set foot in a bookies.


Not too long ago, I got one of those spam e-mails advertising a guaranteed system for playing the odds, etc. etc. etc, and although I normally ignore these sorts of things, I decided to take a look. Of course, I couldn't access the information unless I filled in some surveys, personal details and all that guff - so my apologies to The Queen at SW1A 1AA, the spam mail you'll get is from me - but to my surprise I eventually got to the promised info.

Basically, the system is this. It's roulette, the only bet you place is red / black. You start with e.g. red, and bet 1p. If you win, you get your bet plus 100% of your bet back (2p in total). If you lose, you lose your 1p.

Now, if you win, then take your winnings and bet 1p on the opposite colour. If you lose, double your bet and stay on the same colour. After some thought, I realised this might work. E.g. see below:


RED WIN 1p 3p
RED LOSE 1p 2p
RED WIN 8p 4p

... and over time, slowly, you'll increase your pot from nothing to a considerable amount. By betting 10p at a time, I worked out you could make about £7-£8 per hour ... not a great deal but more than some people earn at a job.

The only thing of course that could spanner this plan is a long run of results on one colour. This would automatically mean that you're making bets of 1p, 2p, 4p, 8p, 16p, 32p etc and of course this exponential rise means you'll quickly run out of cash. This system relies on the 'break' in the losing run that'll enable you to recoup in one win everything you've lost in the run.

Great idea, thought I, so I registered with William Hill online and started off with £2.00 in the pot, playing roulette as above at 10p per stake. After about 2 hours, I'd increased my pot to £17.50 and rising and I was beginning to smile.

Sadly, not to be. I think the casinos are onto this one since, amazingly, I got a run of 15 reds in a row. Now the odds of this are 2^15 or 32,768 (mathematicians, please correct me if I'm wrong). Sadly I ran out of cash long before the run ended and watched the play until the break with complete, angry disbelief on my face.

I honestly believe this would work over the short term at a real casino, but perhaps some technowizardry identifies these sorts of schemes and moves to block them?

I haven't gambled since. The money I lost was nothing but it made me so angry - and why do something that upsets you?

Would be interested to hear the thoughts of any b3tan statisticians on this subject ... What do you think - bad luck or something more sinister?
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 16:00, 20 replies)
Not so much the bet as the payment...
I was in a society of reprobates at University for whom the traditional bet was a bottle of Port. This could be bog-standard tawny at a few quid up to your proper vintage stuff if you really meant business.

One particularly drunken evening a friend of mine was "reading grace", which amounted to standing up at the beginning of dinner and mumbling something random in Latin. Having already hit the bar pretty hard by that point, I come up with an idea for rendering that somewhat tedious artifact a little more interesting "A bottle of '72 vintage (his birth year) says you won't sing grace to the tune of the club anthem (a well known tune subverted)". Being a sport, my friend proceeds to do this, in front of staff, fellows and several hundred students.

The issue now is payment. Those of you familiar with port vintages will probably even now be crying "but '72 was not a vintage year", but in fact it was. Unfortunately, it was a very poor vintage and only a few "houses" declared it a vintage year. At the time of this bet, Berry Bros had a '72 on their list, but by the time I came to order it was not available.

Now such bets may be suspended, but they are never forgotten and over the nearly 10 years that followed, I occasionally looked out for sources of '72 vintage but never did I find one. I tried all the wine merchants I knew of, specialists port sites on the web (including many based in Portugal itself) and routinely asked in independent wine-stores I passed, but to no avail.

Never, that was, until a week or so before we were to meet up at an anniversary dinner, when much dedicated googling finally identified a single bottle available from an obscure wine-supplier's web site. A site so small that they actually had the number of bottles left listed next to each item. Paypal account duly raided (they were too small to take visa directly) I attended this debauched get-together with my debt-payment finally in hand, wrapped discretely in tissue-paper.

Dinner and much wine was had before it was time for desert and therefore for Port. Retrieving what appeared to be the last bottle of '72 vintage available for retail in Europe, I presented this with much ceremony to my friend, who confessed having given up on ever receiving payment since he too had seen ne'er a single bottle in the intervening years. Conscience finally cleared I wander down the table to see some other friends only for a great wailing to break out back a-way.

I could have cried. There, dumbstruck with horror, is my friend, staring at a pool of crimson liquid slowly spreading from a sad pile of dusty green glass. His table-neighbour, making some point or other, having swept out a hand and with it propelled the fruits of my decade-long search onto an unforgiving stone floor.

So, ladies and gents, should you ever be the recipient of a eminently frangible long-awaited debt settlement, for gods' sake open it there and then. The alternative is simply too painful.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 15:53, 3 replies)
Gambling - Professional
As (some of) you know, I'm a geek.

Not just an "oh look, he's on B3TA, that makes him a geek" but a full-on, I do maths for a living and in my spare time I come up with model designs that, once I get either direct or comparative data for, I test.

Indeed one might say that I am more than homo sapiens, I am homo sapiens mathematicus statisticus. Overdramatic, moi?

My specific area of specialism is around probabilistic models using either simple Bayesians or information theory / information values to produce confidence outputs or - in simple terms - yes / no decisions about whether or not a is going to given , mainly in financial services and banking.

Academically (being a bit of a div to be honest) I worked on game theory and the headspace necessary to get ones head around this is just - astonishing.

In the last several years I've gotten into neural networks, Kohonen SOM, SVM and various other forms of taking potentially infinite numbers of inputs and thus potentially infinite correlations to come up with a value.

Unlike a Bayesian model which specifies that for a specific population there are certain actions that are common to that population (i.e., a credit score) a neural network creates a model for each card that says in simple terms "for cardholder 1234, they always buy flowers with a value of £25 on a Friday at 1300 - therefore if he buys flowers on a Friday at 1300 with a value of £25 the probability of it being not him is almost nil" - therefore we get an infinite number of models, each of which is specific to the behaviour of the given cardholder. If you're in need of an example of just *how* geeky I am, writing that gave me a wee shiver and I'm sitting here with a grin on my face.

An example of this is to be found in the form of a model that I worked closely in the design / development of shortly after finishing uni and which I'd wager the majority of B3TAns have had some contact with albeit with a level of separation. For all those of us who've gone abroad, tried to use our plastic cards and they've been declined or blocked ... erm.

At this point I look sheepish and wander off - that's my model, that is, that's deciding what the probability of it being you that's making the transaction.

Hence, if you ring your bank / card issuer before you go and tell them that you're going to country X you'll find it's not blocked because there's a wee box that gets ticked saying "this card holder is overseas" and another that says "country X".

The model isn't idiot-proof but it typically pays for itself in terms of reducing fraud losses in terms of days rather than weeks or months. It also means that cardholders feel that they're being "protected" by their banks although I'm not sure that the effect of this has ever been properly quantified.

Where was I? Oh yes. Gambling = probability.

There's a moral to this story kids and it's this: I know a lot of homo mathematicus statisticus and I don't know ANY of us who play the lottery.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 15:53, 3 replies)
penny falls
I was at the pikey fair in Cambridge and they had fag packets in the penny falls. I remember there was lots of kids playing them.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 15:51, Reply)
Giving up the fags again
I've come up with a method of giving up the fags. It seems to be working so far. At the end of every day I don't smoke, I put £5 in a box. If I take even one puff of a cigarette, I have to burn the box. The idea being that I might as well have not given up because all the time and money will be wasted. I'll be straight back to a packet a day.

I'm up to £150. I'm wondering what do with the money. I was thinking about BAT shares.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 15:48, 6 replies)
this is my favourite bet.I'm giving it to you because i'm nice.
you may recall it if you watched the rather good BBC program 'The Real Hustle' (well,let's be honest,it was a bit silly,but BBC3 usually is.).
Being in a pub is good for this bet,so either be in one or arrange to be in a similar situation (ie with alcohol).
Begin by having a few pints.A good start,I know,but it's very important you stop the barmaids from collecting your empties.
Find the drunkest member of your group.This is easy - have a conversation.If it's you,BEWARE.
Off-handedly bet the drunkest person that the circumference of the top of a pint glass is longer than it's height.
Not too phenomenal,but the Euclidean genius' will see where this is going.
Even the drunkest drunk will see this is easy.Everyone knows circles are tricky bastards.
To sweeten the deal,stack beermats,matchboxes,small children etc. under the glass.Increase the stakes if you like.Now it looks like a no-brainer.By this time even the primmest sherry-drinkingest shrew will take this bet up.
Walk away with the winnings.DON'T buy a round in.A fundamental rule of pub relativism means that anyone on the 'round' system loses more money than they gain in drinks.
This only works if the stacked stuff under the glass is less than the height of the glass.You'll lose,and you'll look like a twat.
i urge you to try it.I've made an awful lot of money off 'smart people' with the best friend of the thief,the tricky bastard circle.

(, Fri 8 May 2009, 15:43, 6 replies)
I'm not a gambling man, more often than not, its a mugs game that is tantamount to wiping your arse with a crisp note and flushing it down the chod bin.

My friend however does like a flutter, with one of his regular bets being a weekly accumulator on the weekends Premiership action. He has been doing this for several years and has basically pissed away Christ knows how much money and provided xmas bonuses for many a 'betfair' executive.

Despite the fact he is quite knowledgeable of a sport I no longer take seriously due to the sheer embarrassment of watching fully grown men behave in such an appalling manor, the closest he has come to a windfall came the weekend of February 11th 2006, when he was just one game off. What was that game that prevented my chum making some serious cash I hear you ask?

(, Fri 8 May 2009, 15:35, 1 reply)
Brambles and Pigs
One evening out at a village hall (a party of some description) with my mates we bet one of our mates that he wouldn't roll down a nearby hill that was covered in brambles... He did, collecting a cool £1 off each of us so about £7 (yes 1 whole English pound each!).
We bet he wouldn't do it again... he did.

On another evening out clubbing with mostly the same mates a few of us spotted a young lady with more than a passing resemblence to a pig (think it was nostrils that did it).
We said to our other mates that if they pulled her we'd each pay them £10, with 4 of us putting up the money a whole £40 was at stake.
Then out of the blue one of our contenders pulls a women that made our pig look like a young Pamela Anderson in comparison. Not wanting to offend, but she was truly ugly and proportioned like your stereotypical American.
He then comes up demanding the money, "Nay" say we, she was not the bet. Had he said how much for her before hand we'd probably doubled the money, but as it was we got to enjoy that priceless moment for free.

Someone should probably come up with a graph showing a correlation between number of pints drunk and number of stupid bets made
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 15:26, 1 reply)
I don't know about stupid...
...but some friends and I have a 'Disaster-Spread' ring between us.

We bet on what's the next make/model of plane to crash anywhere in the world, what the death toll will be.
We bet on how many kids are abducted per year. How many people are killed at pikey funfairs per year.
We bet on which country will be hit by a 'kilodeath' natural disaster next, how many dead in the next mine collapse somewhere, how many killed the next time someone goes 'postal' in the US. Longest period without UK Forces deaths in Iraq/Afghanistan (which is vaguely positive to be honest).

And many, many more.

Keep your fingers crossed for me, only 21 days left for an Airbus A320 to go down before I lose a monkey.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 15:20, 3 replies)
Niagara Falls
My wife and I took a holiday in Canada. First it was Montreal for some days (Montreal could best be described as mong Paris, trying to be French but fooling no one), Toronto for some more, down to Niagara Falls, and back to Toronto before flying home. Being cheap bastards we arranged the itinerary ourselves including the greyhound bus from Toronto to Niagara Falls.

So anyway, here is an interesting fact for the geographically challenged. There are actually two Niagara Falls cities. One on the Canadian side which is like Blackpool on acid with theme rides, chain restaurants and hotels galore. The other Niagara Falls on the US side is like Fallout 3, only the mutants are real. They are separated by the falls and the river and joined by a bridge called the rainbow bridge.

We did travel over the bridge to the other side (which is awesome since it has great views of the river). Surely the US side would have *something* to do? Nope, there used to be a mall but it was all shut down and boarded up. Tramps and beggars lined the streets. Almost giving up I spotted a large building which might have been a mall or a convention centre. So we walk up to it and discover its an enormous casino - run down but huge. Since the rest of the place is so shit I decide to play carribean stud poker to at least have done something to justify this waste of a day. I borrow some US money from the wife and in literally the second hand and I got four of a kind and I'm $500 up. That's it, we're out of there.

Without exagerration Upper New York state is the ghastliest slum I've ever seen. The only reason to cross over is to behold what real America can be like away from the tourist attractions. Buffalo is even scarier than Niagara Falls. If you're really determined you can still find a few outlet malls (and we did) so maybe its worth going the crossing just for that. Just don't go expecting anything else.

Canada had casinos too. Happily I was up in every single one I visited, but only by a few bucks. Enough to collect a casino chip and pay for a round of drinks. I must have 20 casino chips from all the joints I've hit all the years.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 15:12, Reply)
Bet by Parents of Extra
(Apologies for length in advance, but I will try and cut it down where possible)

For anyone that dosent know I have 3 kids (Blah blah blah I know). What I haven’t mentioned as yet is that the eldest one L is a budding actor and has so far appeared in a number of UK TV shows as nameless schoolkid number 2 in MI High, or kid that is almost eaten by a badly animnated CGI dinosaur in Primeval (Basically a nameless extra half the time).

One day we received a call from his agent (AKA a mad harpy who takes a fee for sitting on her ass) who had mentioned that my son was called up to play a part of a background character in the film adaptation of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. This may sound like a great part to have and L jumped at the chance, therefore I had to endure a number of days sat in a parent holding area while my son and other little theatre lovvies sat back and pretended to be shocked at a magic cup spitting out Harrys name.

Anywhoo the parents in the holding area were a real mixture of cultures. I spent most of my time with my head in a book while I heard the other parents bicker about stage schools and how little Trudy was going to appear in a lead role soon etc etc.

One couple really did stand out though, they were the had all the signs of a chav family, right down to the clothing and wigger style accent. By day two most of the parents were avoiding the chavvy family like the plague and I had the misfortune of turning up late. I was left sitting a few seats away from the mum and dad and heard her whisper to him “Go on I bet you can’t beat your last one, when we were in Bolton….”

Daddy Chav then sucked in his bottom lip and disappeared outside. I thought he must have popped out for a cig and thought nothing of it, I quickly shrugged and realised that I had left my book back in the car. I tried to sit without it but the place really got on my nerves, so I left the room to go pick it up.

On returning I found the place in uproar, the parents were notified that someone had broken into the trailers of one of the cast and stole a rather old (and expensive) identity bracelet from the bloke who plays Dumbledore (Basically it was a rather gawdy looking metal bracelet that was quite chunky and would look out of place in a Harry Potter film).

Security knew that it couldn’t have been the actors or kids and were going to have to search the parents. The thought of this outraged a number of people but for some reason the security ignored all protests and made a bee line for chav family.

As they were about to start the search Micheal Gambon in full Dumbledore outfit burst into the room and was looking quite livid. Immediatley he started pointing at the dad saying he was sure he saw him near his trailer earlier.

At this point dad chav realised that his little game was up so he thrust his hands into his underwear and pulled out the item (The identity bracelet I mean, you filthy minded sods). As he threw the large piece of jewellery down he said

“Ere’s de ……….Gam-Bling”

Really really sorry for this one- I promise to go back to movie related ones.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 15:10, 3 replies)
Gambling is like laundry:
you've gotta know when to fold.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 14:52, 4 replies)
It was a warm summer's evening
and I was on a train. I had forgotten to check before I boarded where it was going, so far as I was concerned we were bound for nowhere. Sitting across the carriage from me was a man who looked as tired as I was. We were both too tired to sleep. He had a poker set with him, so I deduced he must be a gambling man. As we both stared out of the window into the darkness of the night, we were overcome by boredom. The tired man turned to me and began to speak.

He said, "Young man, my life has been characterised by my talent for reading the expressions on people's faces. I'd know what their cards were, by the subtle messages conveyed through their eyes. I hope you don't mind my interference, but I can see you're out of aces. I'll give you some man to man advice in exchange for a drop of that bourbon."

So I handed him my bottle, and he finished the lot. Then the cheeky cunt bummed a cigaratte. Then he asked me for a LIGHT! The night was deathly quiet, for I was about to punch this freeloading old bastard in the schnozz. His face lost all expression, which I put down to the large glug of whiskey he had just chugged.

But he said "If you're gonna play the game boy, you'd better learn to play it right. Knowing when to hold or fold a hand can only come with experience. You know, knowing when to walk or run away? And another thing, boy, never count your money if you're still sitting at the table, there'll be plenty of time for that later."

'Fair enough', thinks I. 'This old drunk is giving me a lesson through the power of analogy not to count my chickens before they hatch'.

But he went on- "Every gambler knows that the secret to surviving is knowing what to throw away, and knowing what to keep. Every hand you get dealt could either win or lose, this of course depends on the hand that your competitors hold. To be honest, my son, the best you could wish for is a peaceful death in your sleep."

'OKAAAAAAAYY', I thought, gingerly edging away, fearing I was to be violated and strangled if I fell asleep. I took some Proplus.

It seemed that the old fellow had finished now, for he had turned back toward the window. He stamped his cigaratte out on the floor.

'Dirty litter bug' I thought to myself.

However, through the gloom, I could see from the old man's face that he was somehow at peace. It was as if he had needed to share his worldy wisdom with some young upstart such as myself.

And he was right. His words had left me wiser. You could say I'd found an ace that I could keep.

The funny thing is, I don't even gamble.....
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 14:45, 3 replies)
I Bet
I bet you £50 you won't give me £100
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 14:37, 1 reply)
Crossbar bonanza
Being completely uninterested and shit at football, I can barely kick a ball to where I want it.

For this reason, my brother said 'If you hit that crossbar with your left foot, I'll give you £100'

Might as well try, I thought.

Through some stroke of terrific luck, I claimed a direct hit on the crossbar, to my brothers horror.

I got my £100. Hehehe.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 14:31, Reply)
Bad bets
A couple of bad bets:
1) Mate of mine poured £300 into a fruity over the space of about three hours, having to borrow £200 of that of me and another mate. We all walked home that night.

2) I know of a bloke (I don't know him personally, he's a mate of a mate) who put his mortgage on AC Milan winning the 2005 Champions League final. He put the bet on at half time, when AC were rampant and 3-0 up at rediculously short odds. He put somewhere in the region of £150,000 on the win, hoping to net around £150 for this "sure bet". An hour later, he was homeless.

3) I was a Ladies' Day at Aintree with the missus a few years back. I was doing my normal "£2 each way on two horses" style of betting. As I was stood in the queue for the Tote, the bloke in front of me bet "A monkey on the nose" of one of the nags in the next race. I stuck a tenner on it, also on the nose, thinking he must know something. He didn't, it finished last. Though one of my £2 each way bets netted me £60 in the same race, so i wasn't that arsed.

And a bad not bet:
Was looking at betting on the 2006 Champions League final. I had no idea why, but I had this feeling that Sol Campbell would score first, but Barca would win it 2-1. I tend to bet online so was sorting it out when the missus decided that she wanted to go the Trafford Centre (a large shopping mall thingy just outside Manchester) RIGHT NOW. My internet connection was playing up, but I was determined to pu a tenner on this hunch I had, so was stalling. Eventually the wife said "what the fuck are you arsing about with, let's go!" When I told her, she hit the roof, telling me I was chucking away a tenner and stopping her from shopping, so I switched off my PC, without placing the bet. Length? About 2500/1
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 14:25, Reply)
its a silly game
but I used to tell people that I was on a bet to see how many times I could get the word "mangina" into a conversation through the course of a normal working day. It sort of feeds itself and gets to be quite a complicated ruse. Freelancing in lots of different places meant I got to play this game every day nearly. Nice to leave somwhere leaving a little bit of you behind though - scores of mac monkeys trying to outdo each other on the "mangina at work" stakes. People are stupid sometimes...
although the number of work colleagues who got pulled up for typing it into google at lunch was outrageous! Not so much a bet, as an excuse to type something for QOTW cos I been away for a while
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 14:24, Reply)
I was wandering past a field with lambs in it who were gambolling

(, Fri 8 May 2009, 14:06, 3 replies)
I've been trying to think of an answer to this weeks question, when all of a sudden it clicked into place. I'm known to quite a lot of people by a stupid bet I made.


It was January 2005, and a younger Agnostic was at his girlfriend's at the time. Her Mum was out for the night, but had left a considerable amount of alcohol for us, so the gf had invited her friend over.

As the night went on, conversation started to get dirtier and dirtier, with my gf telling her friend all the things I did that got her off (well, all 3 of them). The friend is starting to look more and more interested, and starts giving me the eye. I notice this clearly. Unfortunately, so does the gf, and she does not look impressed.

At this point the conversation changes, as I was mildly afraid of getting my head ripped off for even looking at another girl. Conversation then slips to football, and how Liverpool would of course beat United the next day, I'm so confident I'd bet on it. I told them to think of the bet, while I disappeared to drain my rather full bladder.

I come back downstairs and they're rather enjoying the taste of each others tonsils (God bless what alcohol does to 16 year old girls!), and I'm quite happy for them to carry on. They then turn to me, and announce they've thought of a bet. If I lose, they get to do whatever they like to me (they made it rather ambiguous what it'd be). I then said if I won, I'd get to do what I like to them (and yes, it would include many many filthy things).

Not long after, the gf's Mum came home, and we had to cease all activity.

The next day rolls around, and we're out all day, so I've no idea what the score is. It gets to the end of the day, and I get back, flick on teletext, and see the score.

Liverpool 0-1 Manchester United.


The missus gets a somewhat mischievous look on her face, and tells me it's time for my punishment. I follow her upstairs, somewhat hopeful.

I shouldn't have been.

If you want to know what my forfeit was, the picture is in replies...
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 14:06, 19 replies)
Its great having a friend who will do anything for money...
As the many people who have one will testify. One of the funniest things I've ever seen is my friend Matt, having been bet £10 by two of us (so £20 at stake here) that he couldn't eat an entire bar of lightly salted Anchor butter, take on the challenge.

Just recalling him unwrapping, and biting with gusto into, that bar of yellow, salty goodness like it was a giant Mars Bar, only to stop munching on the first mouthful like a startled sheep because it was "fucking disgusting", gives me the giggles.

Not particularly heroic or outrageous but if anyone knows someone like this I wholehearedly recommend any kind of raw-butter-eating related bets.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 13:32, 2 replies)
i won nothing
for betting that i could down a whole bottle of kikkomans soya sauce. Wouldnt recommend it. Down in one, and two salty weeks later i was able to once again enjoy my favourite condiment. Next time i should arrange teh stakes before accepting the bet.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 13:21, Reply)
Bet you cant...
Make a pun out of this weeks question...

If you do ill give you a click
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 13:20, 3 replies)
I lost big...
I once bet the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy on a game of cards to a slimy, double-crossing, no-good swindler.

Still, I've just made a deal that'll keep things sweet for a while and maybe get my ship back.

L Calrissian

[Bindun? oops]
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 13:09, 1 reply)
7x Ferro Rocher in a minute?
Is that seriously the world record?

I did six without trying and bet I could do 8 with a bit more effort.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 12:54, 4 replies)
£50 on offer.
Over the last few years, I have bet possibly hundreds of my friends £50 sterling that they cannot get themselves ejected from Pret A Manger for air guitaring.

So far, nobody has taken me up on this challenge. I would like closure on this matter, so any takers?

(NB, ejection must be for air guitaring, not for harrassing customers or damaging produce. Video footage required)
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 12:51, 1 reply)
An egg too far
Many years ago, on the way home from a night on the sauce, my friend Ollie suggested that, instead of the customary bag of chips, we should go for the three-egg-challenge. That is, for the uninitiated, three Cadbury's Creme Eggs at the same time. And no chomping until they're all in.

So we stop off at the corner shop and I go first, in the misguided hope that this is going to impress our rather cute blonde friend, C. One, two, three, in they go.

"That was easy" I splutter, or rather "thaaawaassshhheezzii".

"Bet you can't do four" Ollie replies, the cock.

Alcohol, lust and chocolate conspire inside me and I accept this ridiculous challenge. To a reticulated python or professional fluffer, it might have been a possibility. I am neither and this is not going to pretty.

"Such a thing has never been done before" says the shopkeeper in his best Apu-impression. But I am undeterred. I shove the fourth one into my gob and stagger triumphantly out of the shop just as the back egg explodes and spluffs a huge load of fondanty goodness down the back of my throat, immediately followed by similar spunkifications from its three fellows

As I leave the shop, a car pulls in alongside me - "Scuse me, mate can you tell me how to get to XXX?".

I lean terrfiyingly into the car. With my horrible, distended mouth, I look like Wallace after an extended session of bukkake and coprophagy.

"Nnneeexxxrrrighpaaaasshhtthepaarrk" I honk, dribbling chocolate between the comely norks of the girl in the passenger seat. They drive off fast.
and I wave them off, cackling like a mong.

No, it didn't impress C. either.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 12:29, 8 replies)
Grand National
I have been in a bookies twice...

The first time I placed a bet was on the Grand National when there was a false start a few years back and the result was null and void.

The second time was a year or two later when there was a bomb scare and there was no result at all.

I think the Gods of Betting are trying to tell me something. Therefore I have listened and have never placed a bet since.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 12:23, Reply)
Uri fookin' Geller
On the occasion of New Year's Eve, 2003, I bet my companion, Prince Hans Verdant Magnusson, that not only was spoon-bending possible, but that within a year, I would have mastered it. If not, he could kick me up the arse.
Being drunk at the time, not only have I neglected to remember what I would win, but I also forgot, at the time, to do anything about it.

My perineum bled, January 1, 2005.
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 12:07, Reply)
I've not been in a bookies for years
not since I put a quid on a placepot (where you pick 6 horses, and if they all come 1st-3rd you win a bit, but if they all win, you win the jackpot) where the jackpot was about £250,000.
The first 5 horses all won, but the last horse came 4th by half a head (about 9 inches).... so I won nothing :~(
(, Fri 8 May 2009, 12:03, 3 replies)

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