Going Too Far
Ever 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...
( , Fri 10 Nov 2006, 14:11)
Ever 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...
( , Fri 10 Nov 2006, 14:11)
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Tip? Lose the VPL.
As studenty-types some friends and I, as students are wont to do, whiled away many an evening in cheap pubs. Despite me being a very girly girl most of my friends are male, and on this particular evening, drinking in a civilised manner had led to competing to see who could down half pints of Stella fastest which, in turn, had let to (ominous dun-dun-dun noise) Tequila.
Suffice to say, we were all fairly hammered. Two of my friends had ordered a platter of Wetherspoons' finest unidentifiable greasy 'food'. I, meanwhile, was eye-flirting with a waiter. He wasn't particularly attractive, but he was Italian and he did have a nice bum.
Preparing to leave the pub, we decided that this friendly chap's good service deserved to be acknowledged. Never mind the fact that he was just doing his job, it was decided that we would not just leave him a tip, we would write a note to the manager.
Being at a pub, we didn't have much stationery. So we wrote the note of praise on the back of a receipt. In black Sharpie. My only consolation is that it probably wasn't readable.
We agreed on the wording, but I insisted on adding a P.S...
... and you have a really nice bum. From the girl on the table. Obviously. Or not. Well, you do. Yes.
Moral? Drinking turns normal, sane people into thirteen year old girls. It's a real danger, people.
Did I mention that my boyfriend of three years was also at the table?
( , Mon 13 Nov 2006, 14:02, Reply)
As studenty-types some friends and I, as students are wont to do, whiled away many an evening in cheap pubs. Despite me being a very girly girl most of my friends are male, and on this particular evening, drinking in a civilised manner had led to competing to see who could down half pints of Stella fastest which, in turn, had let to (ominous dun-dun-dun noise) Tequila.
Suffice to say, we were all fairly hammered. Two of my friends had ordered a platter of Wetherspoons' finest unidentifiable greasy 'food'. I, meanwhile, was eye-flirting with a waiter. He wasn't particularly attractive, but he was Italian and he did have a nice bum.
Preparing to leave the pub, we decided that this friendly chap's good service deserved to be acknowledged. Never mind the fact that he was just doing his job, it was decided that we would not just leave him a tip, we would write a note to the manager.
Being at a pub, we didn't have much stationery. So we wrote the note of praise on the back of a receipt. In black Sharpie. My only consolation is that it probably wasn't readable.
We agreed on the wording, but I insisted on adding a P.S...
... and you have a really nice bum. From the girl on the table. Obviously. Or not. Well, you do. Yes.
Moral? Drinking turns normal, sane people into thirteen year old girls. It's a real danger, people.
Did I mention that my boyfriend of three years was also at the table?
( , Mon 13 Nov 2006, 14:02, Reply)
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