a long time ago..
Three mates and I went out and about for drinks on my birthday. We'd had a few lovely pints, and we thought that we'd have a nice walk back as the buses were stopped now, and so off we set. The two girls gallantly carried in a piggy back style by our handsome partners. Across a busy road that had a central reservation with kerbs, causing my husband to pitch violently forward, dumping me face first in the carriageway. I actually remember pulling my hands back as I fell, in order to protect my newly-painted nails.. I've still got a scar on my face...

We righted ourselves, and carried on walking as if nothing had happened, passing another,now empty, pub. There were lovely big wooden picnic benches outside, just sitting there. "I always fancied one of those!" said him indoors, and so the two chaps grasped the bench, hefted it shoulder high and swayed off down the road. Very very slowly down the road. So slowly, we got bored and walked off ahead to put the kettle on, find alcohol in the cupboards and that kind of thing. After a while, back at the house we'd done all this, and were drinking tea and wondering, when suddenly, from the bottom of the garden, there came a rustling, and a giggling noise, with some muffled thuds.. "They've never brought that back?" I said, and ran outside into the darkness.

Sure enough, there was the huge picnic table, and the two daft lads, having carried it for two miles, over two locked gates, and down a narrow entry... Funny thing is, they couldn't lift it the next day...
(Beer Elf Thought this was like a campfire, anyhow, on, Fri 27 Apr 2012, 22:17, Reply)