The most interesting thing I've brought back from a night out are bruises
I may have told this story in some form before (I can't be bothered checking) so I'll give the edited highlights:

'twas the night before I was due to go to London to study for my Masters degree in which the events took place. I awoke the morning after with a number of bruises and aches. I called my friend who had been out with me to find out what had happened.

Me: "Why do my arms hurt?"
Friend" "That's from when the bouncers grabbed you and threw you out."

M: "And my back?
F: "Ah, that's from when the police chased you and got you on the floor."*

M: "And my jaw?"
F: "No idea..."**

*It turns out that after getting thrown out of a club for being unconscious (I never did work that one out) I took fright at the situation and bolted, my friend couldn't catch me and didn't know what state I was in so, after seeing two coppers walking by shouted "GRAB HIM!" and they did. He explained. They told me to fuck off home and sleep it off.

** Turns out before I'd passed out I'd bet my friend he wouldn't belt me and have that be one of the last memories I had of him for a year or so. Turns out I was wrong.
( Funkenschlag still likes dogs more than cats, Thu 26 Apr 2012, 15:42, 1 reply)

It's hardly a memory
if you don't remember it! What a waste of a perfectly good punch in the face.
(posthumous mince is tiptoeing through the tulips, Thu 26 Apr 2012, 19:17, closed)