I'm a bad bad person
My dad had his 50th birthday party at his church hall - I guess he got good rates or something being great mates with the vicar.

So my brother and I were charged with helping the setting up. We needed to get some extra seating and so headed into the church to get some (the church had nice comfy seats rather than the puritanical pews most traditional churches go for).

However, as these chairs were rarely moved they had been fastened together, which my brother and I were unaware of. So when we tried to pick one up the whole row of about 30 chairs came tumbling after. "B8LL8CKS" says I "FCUK" screams my bro.

Then we paused waiting for our smiting. Obviously that I am able to write this story shows God was feeling more devious this day.

After setting up the hall for our beloved father and our Good Deed making us feel all warm and fuzzy, my bro, his girlfriend and I did what any other normal late-teens-early-20s would do when faced with an evening faced with having to meet old family friends and stories of being *this* big last I was seen: We downed a bottle of Smirnoff and smoked a few biftas.

We were feeling rather cheerful when, upon arriving at the party we discovered no one was drinking the wine or any of the other free booze we had laid out only a few hours previously. So we had that away as well.

So there we were steaming drunk (amongst other things) in the church hall - maybe it would be best if we were to keep our heads down??

Nope - I try to start a fight with one of my Dad's best mates.

I think I feel most guilty that I left early, but I think it was definitely for the best.

You might think the length is extreme - but eternity in hell is longer :(
(plasticpole, Fri 12 Dec 2008, 1:03, Reply)