Morning After Souvenirs
I once woke up in a tent after a particularly drunken holiday pub crawl, clutching a tap. There's a drowned, sunken village somewhere in Wales because of my act of petty theft, but I cannot remember. Tell us what - or who - you've brought back from nights out.
(Suggested by Bicycle Repairman)
( , Thu 26 Apr 2012, 13:44)
I once woke up in a tent after a particularly drunken holiday pub crawl, clutching a tap. There's a drowned, sunken village somewhere in Wales because of my act of petty theft, but I cannot remember. Tell us what - or who - you've brought back from nights out.
(Suggested by Bicycle Repairman)
( , Thu 26 Apr 2012, 13:44)
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Someone elses' souvenier.
After a night in The Sair, Huddersfield...
Once we'd finally been kicked out we stepped very carefully down the incredibily steep hill to the main road and the bus stop. Why the hell we went to a bus stop at silly o' clock I don't know but some squinting and finger pointing at the timetable suggested there'd be a night bus in about 45 minutes.
A really good thing to do would have been to set off walking towards our digs, and a good thing to do would have been to flag down a taxi.
A very bad thing to do would be big Kev getting on the roof of the bus shelter for a sleep, and me and little Kev to explore the gardens of some local houses.
Little Kev was always a bit shiftless but at some point in his life he'd done some horticultural work and got struck by some atavistic urge to exercise his green fingers at silly o'clock in a Huddersfield suburb.
In the course of 45 minutes, under the direction of little Kev, we managed to transplant several mature shrubs as well as a very considerable number of smaller items of flora between the gardens of two neighbouring houses - roots and all, bedding them down neatly and boarding the night bus covered in mud without the householders being remotely aware of our adventures in the night garden.
I'd love to think we did a neat job - I'm fairly sure we did - and I'd love to know if anyone even realised what we'd done.
( , Sun 29 Apr 2012, 18:47, 9 replies)
After a night in The Sair, Huddersfield...
Once we'd finally been kicked out we stepped very carefully down the incredibily steep hill to the main road and the bus stop. Why the hell we went to a bus stop at silly o' clock I don't know but some squinting and finger pointing at the timetable suggested there'd be a night bus in about 45 minutes.
A really good thing to do would have been to set off walking towards our digs, and a good thing to do would have been to flag down a taxi.
A very bad thing to do would be big Kev getting on the roof of the bus shelter for a sleep, and me and little Kev to explore the gardens of some local houses.
Little Kev was always a bit shiftless but at some point in his life he'd done some horticultural work and got struck by some atavistic urge to exercise his green fingers at silly o'clock in a Huddersfield suburb.
In the course of 45 minutes, under the direction of little Kev, we managed to transplant several mature shrubs as well as a very considerable number of smaller items of flora between the gardens of two neighbouring houses - roots and all, bedding them down neatly and boarding the night bus covered in mud without the householders being remotely aware of our adventures in the night garden.
I'd love to think we did a neat job - I'm fairly sure we did - and I'd love to know if anyone even realised what we'd done.
( , Sun 29 Apr 2012, 18:47, 9 replies)
If I told you what bait you can use to lure big Kev you'd go to his house and ensnare him.
I've no wish for that to happen.
( , Sun 29 Apr 2012, 19:36, closed)
I've no wish for that to happen.
( , Sun 29 Apr 2012, 19:36, closed)
They were like Russian dolls
We only needed tiny Kev and giant Kev to complete the set.
( , Sun 29 Apr 2012, 19:46, closed)
We only needed tiny Kev and giant Kev to complete the set.
( , Sun 29 Apr 2012, 19:46, closed)
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