Utter, utter FAIL (this one's dedicated to Armorous Badger, and all who sail in him):
Amsterdam, November 2007.

I'm the only smoker in a party of 4, and two of them have never taken hash.

By default I am therefore elected Minister for Obtaining Omgdrugs.

However, the party is mainly a drinking one, including an alcoholic, so much time is spent drinking.

However, on the final evening, it is pointed out that one shouldn't really return from Amsterdam with just tulip bulbs and a hangover, so tonight let's sort it out.

A few pints under, and it's decided that now is the time.

I say a few pints under, we'd started drinking at two, and it was now about 9pm.

So I wander out of the door and within two steps am facing a girl behind the counter in a coffee shop, who is on the business end of a fat spliff. At the end of the counter are some cup cakes.

"Hi" she says, bored. "How can I help?"

Looking at the cakes, I reply, cunningly, "Are those cakes?"

"Yes," she says slightly too condescendingly for my liking, "Those are cakes."

"Cracking!" say I, "I'll have four, please!"

"That's two Euros please." GOD I love this country.

We return to the boat we're staying on, with a few bottles of beer and wine, and I advise everyone rather pompously that considering Neil's behaviour last time, to go easy and just have a few bites initially.

Three minutes later and him over there's desperate to feel something and makes a grab for another piece, but "NO" I direct firmly, "Give it half an hour at least."

After an hour, everyone's fucking whinging at me "What's it meant to feel like?" "I don't get the excitement about it." "I just feel a bit pissed."

Turns out they were actual cakes. Nothing clever. They were just fucking cakes.



Now - before you start throwing things, pause awhile and perhaps think about choosing something a little heavier.

Amsterdam, March 2008.

We're in a party of four - this time all of us smokers, and keen ones at that.

Three nights in and we decide to head back to the boat for some beers.

Considering I am the one who's always up first thing in the morning for a walk and an explore, and thus I'll probably know where to purchase it, and definitely not because I'm the bitch of the party due to my kind and unconfrontational nature, I am duly elected Minister For Getting Beer.

I go to the supermarket, find the Amstel aisle, and proceed to purchase my own bodyweight in beer, which I bring back to the boat with triumphant glee.

A few cans later, and someone asks for another beer, but it does taste weird.

Turns out I'd got alcohol-free beer.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 16:52, 3 replies)

ha ha you ate some cakes

( Moon Girl Technologies horrendous beanbag, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 17:14, closed)

That is such utter fail.
It makes me feel better about some of my fuckups. I would've beaten you senseless both times.

You still get a click for the lols. Not for the effort though
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 17:37, closed)

God bless AB
"man fails to buy drugs"
followed by
"man fails to buy alcohol"
;)
( sanityclause is waiting until, Tue 21 Sep 2010, 15:56, closed)