Mugged
Your Ginger Fuhrer was telling me the other night about going out in Birmingham after finishing a shift working in a bar. Very drunk, still dressed in his bar uniform, our fearless leader was mugged.
They stole his green stick-on bow tie.
( , Thu 15 Jun 2006, 14:58)
Your Ginger Fuhrer was telling me the other night about going out in Birmingham after finishing a shift working in a bar. Very drunk, still dressed in his bar uniform, our fearless leader was mugged.
They stole his green stick-on bow tie.
( , Thu 15 Jun 2006, 14:58)
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Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee
(as most of these will start) I had been out on the lash with my housemates and, typically, the long walk home stretched all our bladders to bursting point.
Despite mine being conker-hard and as big as a saucepan, fortunately I wasn't in John Wayne territory yet, so I managed to sprint home from the end of the street and reach the can first.
I vastly enjoyed the feeling of relieving what must have been several gallons at immense pressure, and I began to ponder what it might be like to piss if I were a hippo. My flatmates were having none of this deliberation, and their hammering at the door brought me out of my trance with a jolt. A jolt somehow big enough for me to pull the cistern lid, on which I was leaning, down into the bowl, cracking it clean in half, spilling steaming piss everywhere and rendering the toilet facility inoperable.
Knowing that 3 flatmates desperate for number twos would lynch me if they saw this, I panicked and legged it past them, off to my girlfriend's house. Fortunately I got a decent headstart as they were laughing so uncontrollably about the obvious assumption that some huge explosive force from my ringpiece had caused the porcelain destruction.
g/f house was a bus ride away, and while I was waiting for the bus, 2 identical, humungous, doorman-like figures accosted me and in unison requested that I hand over my wallet, or they'd stab me. Obviously I was so freaked out by these magically linked twins that I had to oblige, and leg it back home to hide under my bed.. and obviously I got a good beating rather than any sympathy.
On the upside, it was one of those nights where the contents of your wallet get distributed amongst your pockets randomly. So all that was left in the wallet was £5 mugger's tax, explaining why I am here today and not just another student who got stabbed outside Manchester Royal Infirmary.
The next day it was explained to me that it is possible to be mullered enough to see double. I still think there were two of them though. You believe me don't you?
( , Thu 15 Jun 2006, 17:56, Reply)
(as most of these will start) I had been out on the lash with my housemates and, typically, the long walk home stretched all our bladders to bursting point.
Despite mine being conker-hard and as big as a saucepan, fortunately I wasn't in John Wayne territory yet, so I managed to sprint home from the end of the street and reach the can first.
I vastly enjoyed the feeling of relieving what must have been several gallons at immense pressure, and I began to ponder what it might be like to piss if I were a hippo. My flatmates were having none of this deliberation, and their hammering at the door brought me out of my trance with a jolt. A jolt somehow big enough for me to pull the cistern lid, on which I was leaning, down into the bowl, cracking it clean in half, spilling steaming piss everywhere and rendering the toilet facility inoperable.
Knowing that 3 flatmates desperate for number twos would lynch me if they saw this, I panicked and legged it past them, off to my girlfriend's house. Fortunately I got a decent headstart as they were laughing so uncontrollably about the obvious assumption that some huge explosive force from my ringpiece had caused the porcelain destruction.
g/f house was a bus ride away, and while I was waiting for the bus, 2 identical, humungous, doorman-like figures accosted me and in unison requested that I hand over my wallet, or they'd stab me. Obviously I was so freaked out by these magically linked twins that I had to oblige, and leg it back home to hide under my bed.. and obviously I got a good beating rather than any sympathy.
On the upside, it was one of those nights where the contents of your wallet get distributed amongst your pockets randomly. So all that was left in the wallet was £5 mugger's tax, explaining why I am here today and not just another student who got stabbed outside Manchester Royal Infirmary.
The next day it was explained to me that it is possible to be mullered enough to see double. I still think there were two of them though. You believe me don't you?
( , Thu 15 Jun 2006, 17:56, Reply)
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