Out of the crying man into the fire
At 16 or 17, I was at a 'small gathering' that the hostess had been allowed to hold at her parents' house, despite the fact that they were in bed upstairs. Unfortunately she and her new bloke had a bit of a row and, visibly upset, he slumped in a corner to hit the cider while she spent all night flirting with some other dickhead. Heroically refreshed, he eventually passed out, only to wake up in the middle of the night needing a piss. He wandered into the parents' bedroom looking for a bog at about 4am, and, evidently a tad confused, whipped it out and started slashing on their gas fire. The drumming noise woke up the mum, who had to run downstairs for a washing up bowl or something to catch all the waz. By the time she got back, he'd (mostly) finished the job, and had curled up into the empty space in bed beside the dad. The mum gave up at this point, and went off to sleep in the spare room. The bloke wouldn't tell us what his new girlfriend's dad said upon waking to find not his wife but a fat snoring pissy Korn fan with streaky eyeliner and his knob out lying beside him in bed the next morning, but it lasted about half an hour behind a locked door and then the dirty little pissmonkey ran all the way home and never saw his girlfriend ever again.
( grey kid is breakdancing to save a community centre, Wed 25 May 2005, 18:00, Reply)