Nightclubs
Thinly-disguised entrances to Hell where bad things happen. Tell us your dancefloor disasters.
( , Wed 8 Apr 2009, 12:35)
Thinly-disguised entrances to Hell where bad things happen. Tell us your dancefloor disasters.
( , Wed 8 Apr 2009, 12:35)
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CROSSED WIRES
Sharing a flat with a woman makes you a bit gay.
That's what I was thinking when Sarah shouted for me to come and help her in the bathroom. I went in and found her with her head bent over the sink, wet, wearing a dressing gown and looking rough as a robbers dog.
"Can you put this on for me, please?" she asked, waving a bottle round, her eyes closed shut tightly as she washed her golden locks.
"What is it?"
"A face pack," Sarah could tell I was less than enthusiatic. "Well, you don't want us to be late do you? If you put it on while I'm doing my hair we'll get there quicker."
Fair enough. I grabbed the bottle and plastered her face in green gunk then fucked off to my own room to get into my clubbing gear.
An hour later Sarah was eventually ready, the taxi had arrived, and we left. I'd already downed a bottle of sherry and was feeling really rather chipper.
When we got to the club Sarah paired off with her boyfriend - a neanderthal in a shirt named Paul. I met up with my own girlfriend, Emma.
And a fine time was had by all.
Until, rather like watching a car crash, I was compelled to watch my mate Sarah and her brutish cunt of a boyfriend have an absolute barney in the centre of the dancefloor. Sarah was pushing him, he pushed her back. Voices were raised. It was like watching an episode of Jerry Springer. Eventually the cunt Paul smacked Sarah hard in the gob. The fucking cunt. Sarah fell back hard and hit her arse on the dancefloor. She actually bounced.
I went over and gave Paul a playful smack in the gob in return, told him to pick on someone his own size, and led my mate, Sarah, away by the arm.
She was crying: "I just wanna go home, Spanky," she said.
I nodded and held her hand and we made our way towards the exit. But the cunt Paul was loitering there. Fuck. Don't want any trouble. I'd caught him off guard before but this fella was twice my size and could fucking murder me in his sleep.
"Let's go the back way," I suggest. And we do. Moments later we're round the back of the club. I lead Sarah up the narrow alleyway and back out onto the main street. I hail a cab and pack her off back home.
"Thanks, Spanky - you're a real mate," she says as I close the cab door and off she goes into the night nursing a blackeye and a bruised cheek.
I turn and stomp back towards the club. I wasn't really in the mood for going back in but Emma, my girlfriend, was inside and she'd be pissed with me if I just disappeared.
Eventually after a shitload of queueing I get back inside. I find Emma and, yep, she's pissed with me.
"Where the fuck did you disappeare to?" She asks.
And I explain:
"Sarah had a row with Paul, she was feeling pretty vulnerable so I took her up the back passage. Now she's in a taxi going home. She's feeling pretty shitty with herself... I think she really hurt her arse."
"YOU FUCKING WHAT???"
I think about what I just said: "No, I meant I took her round the back entrance."
I really wasn't helping my cause. Emma just stared at me and fumed like she was about to go volcanic and kill me with her laserbeam stare. Or just twat me.
"Oh, come on, Emma!" I plead. "Sarah's just a mate, nothing more - I mean, I even gave her a facial before we left the flat this evening..."
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 1:25, 12 replies)
Sharing a flat with a woman makes you a bit gay.
That's what I was thinking when Sarah shouted for me to come and help her in the bathroom. I went in and found her with her head bent over the sink, wet, wearing a dressing gown and looking rough as a robbers dog.
"Can you put this on for me, please?" she asked, waving a bottle round, her eyes closed shut tightly as she washed her golden locks.
"What is it?"
"A face pack," Sarah could tell I was less than enthusiatic. "Well, you don't want us to be late do you? If you put it on while I'm doing my hair we'll get there quicker."
Fair enough. I grabbed the bottle and plastered her face in green gunk then fucked off to my own room to get into my clubbing gear.
An hour later Sarah was eventually ready, the taxi had arrived, and we left. I'd already downed a bottle of sherry and was feeling really rather chipper.
When we got to the club Sarah paired off with her boyfriend - a neanderthal in a shirt named Paul. I met up with my own girlfriend, Emma.
And a fine time was had by all.
Until, rather like watching a car crash, I was compelled to watch my mate Sarah and her brutish cunt of a boyfriend have an absolute barney in the centre of the dancefloor. Sarah was pushing him, he pushed her back. Voices were raised. It was like watching an episode of Jerry Springer. Eventually the cunt Paul smacked Sarah hard in the gob. The fucking cunt. Sarah fell back hard and hit her arse on the dancefloor. She actually bounced.
I went over and gave Paul a playful smack in the gob in return, told him to pick on someone his own size, and led my mate, Sarah, away by the arm.
She was crying: "I just wanna go home, Spanky," she said.
I nodded and held her hand and we made our way towards the exit. But the cunt Paul was loitering there. Fuck. Don't want any trouble. I'd caught him off guard before but this fella was twice my size and could fucking murder me in his sleep.
"Let's go the back way," I suggest. And we do. Moments later we're round the back of the club. I lead Sarah up the narrow alleyway and back out onto the main street. I hail a cab and pack her off back home.
"Thanks, Spanky - you're a real mate," she says as I close the cab door and off she goes into the night nursing a blackeye and a bruised cheek.
I turn and stomp back towards the club. I wasn't really in the mood for going back in but Emma, my girlfriend, was inside and she'd be pissed with me if I just disappeared.
Eventually after a shitload of queueing I get back inside. I find Emma and, yep, she's pissed with me.
"Where the fuck did you disappeare to?" She asks.
And I explain:
"Sarah had a row with Paul, she was feeling pretty vulnerable so I took her up the back passage. Now she's in a taxi going home. She's feeling pretty shitty with herself... I think she really hurt her arse."
"YOU FUCKING WHAT???"
I think about what I just said: "No, I meant I took her round the back entrance."
I really wasn't helping my cause. Emma just stared at me and fumed like she was about to go volcanic and kill me with her laserbeam stare. Or just twat me.
"Oh, come on, Emma!" I plead. "Sarah's just a mate, nothing more - I mean, I even gave her a facial before we left the flat this evening..."
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 1:25, 12 replies)
I laughed so much
I just woke everybody else up.
In the flat upstairs!
.
.
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 1:33, closed)
I just woke everybody else up.
In the flat upstairs!
.
.
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 1:33, closed)
What a talent!
Spanky, you have real talent. It's impressive, although a bit disturbing -- what if this creativity was used for nefarious purposes?
Wait... Never mind.
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 1:44, closed)
Spanky, you have real talent. It's impressive, although a bit disturbing -- what if this creativity was used for nefarious purposes?
Wait... Never mind.
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 1:44, closed)
I love the build up
but the climax is always the best part.
(fnar fnar)
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 2:50, closed)
but the climax is always the best part.
(fnar fnar)
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 2:50, closed)
That is absolutely fucking
great - love it! Thank you for making me nearly wee myself!! :)
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 17:42, closed)
great - love it! Thank you for making me nearly wee myself!! :)
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 17:42, closed)
Are you sure you
didnt used to write Carry On scripts?
clicky click click
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 17:43, closed)
didnt used to write Carry On scripts?
clicky click click
( , Sat 11 Apr 2009, 17:43, closed)
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