Going Too FarEver had one of your mates go too far? Back when I was a teenager I went to stay with a friend in the country. We took his dog for a walk in some woods - which was fun.
We came across a breeding pen for the local pheasant shoot - which was interesting.
But then my friend broke into the cages, grabbed a pheasant, strangled it and proceeded to throw it around, only managing to rescue it from his dog's jaws seconds before a gamekeeper turned up to see what the hell was going on. Now, that was a bit too far...
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chthonic, Fri 10 Nov 2006, 14:11)
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Lamp-post ChallengeA few years ago me and some mates were at Riley's snooker in Dunfermline and missed the last bus home. So it was a six mile walk back. Along the way we passed East End Park, home to Dunfermline Athletic FC (c'mon The Pars), which was in the middle of having two new stands built. Somehow, two of the lads came across a workman's hard hat. And of course, one of them put it on. It was then that the best-ever alcohol fuelled idea came into our minds.
"Hey, Adie. Bet you can't run head first into every lamppost on the way home."
"Bet I can."
The challenge was on. And at first it was pleasantly amusing. Gentle runs at the lampposts were met with a soft thud and laughter all round as we moved onto the next lamppost. It was after the first ten or fifteen that the entertainment began. Encouraged by our "motivational musings", the run up become longer and more intense. The thud of head on metal become louder and the recoil from impact more exaggerated. Each walk from one lamppost became more and more unsteady, every word increasingly slurred from Adie's mouth. But the determination was now set in stone. This challenge would be completed, or so it would seem.
And there it was. After about forty or fifty lampposts, came a thing of beauty: a new bus shelter, which was only too enticing.
"Hey Adie, bet you can't add a few bus shelters along the way."
"IIIII bettt aaaa cannnn."
And with that, he turned, run across to the opposite side of the road and took on a full blooded (if woozy) run at the shelter and dived Klinsmann style with every last ounce of energy. Halfway through the dive the hard hat fell off. CRACK! Thick glass met unprotected head. Adie rebounded off the shelter into the middle of the road. As for us? Did we rush over and check he was OK? No, because we were pishing ourselves laughing on a grass verge. It took about a minute to regain our composure to check if he was still in the land of the living. To top it off we walked him home dismissing his complaints about having a sore head and needing to go to hospital. There was a hospital a few hundred yards from his last hurrah but we all called him a wuss, until he backed down and staggered home. His mum took him in next day.
(, Sat 11 Nov 2006, 18:10, Reply)
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