Medication and alcohol don't mix
Some night in October/November 2007, and it’s the Nottingham Trent University’s fresher’s ball. It’s also the most wasted I have ever been. Much of this night I do not remember and I’ve had to rely on eye witness reports.

The evening starts well, everyone is having pre party drinks whilst digging out their best formal evening wear/recycling their sixth form prom clothes, totally unaware of the terror that will soon strike the students union. Me.

I’m usually quite a good drunk. I just get a bit loud and very brummie, but tend to hold my composure quite well. Tonight however was to be a bit different. I don’t usually take pain killers of any kind unless I feel I really need to, and I didn’t want this night being ruined by a bastard headache, so opted to pop some pain pills. These were no ordinary paracetamol though. This was my mother’s prescription co-drydamol that I’d nicked, which was all I had on hand from the last time I was dying and we were out of standard pain killers. I really should have known better than to take prescription drugs whilst drinking, but I was already slightly tipsy and it just didn’t occur to me how much this could possibly amplify the effects of the alcohol.

I really should have stopped as soon as I noticed how fast this was going to my head. After leaving our flat for our mate, Ste’s flat, I was pretty drunk. By the time we got to his, I was wasted. I’d only had a few vodka and cokes and maybe a beer or two. I think the others realised how drunk I was when I threw up in his flat (leading to all his HOT flatmates hating me). This lead to my alcohol being confiscated which I must say I wasn’t best pleased about and seem to remember moaning about it for quite some time before tracking down some Strongbow (eurgh).

Now fast forward a little a bit, and we are queuing up outside the students union. This signals my last memory of the night, and thankfully so. After this is just a few flashes of entering and buying a drink... and then nothing.

The rest of the night went something like this:

• Drink a random person’s drink

• Stroke a strangers face, face off style

• Drink another random person’s drink

• More face stroking

• Try to have a conversation with security, almost getting myself kicked out but being dragged away from by friends before saying anything I’d regret

• Probably more face stroking and drink stealing

• Proceeding to whip my Jolly Todger out for a crafty wank. In the middle of the Union. With my friend Ash asking me to put it away (everyone else left us there, probably out of embarrassment), to which I replied “Oooh but I want to *sad face*”. I think some nearby girls found this quite amusing, and apparently someone threatened to call the police (But come on... is it really that bad?)

• Being refused a lift back from Chris as he didn’t trust me being in the back of his car. My lovely new Uni friends, being the kind generous souls that they are, shoved me into a taxi by myself in the vain hope that I may actually make it back to the halls. I did, at the cost of all my money and what self respect I might have had left at this point.

This story is pretty open to a length joke. But I’ll refrain.

Peace and love

Edit: As soon as I got back, I tried to cook some cheese in the microwave. Didn't really go to plan apparently.
(Poodles! MCCCXXXVII, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 15:23, 1 reply)

You get a click..
..because I was wasted and face-stroking last night and it didn't go down well.. sitting here scared to go back to the pub.. utterly mortified.
(raymond "three griddle pans" luxury yacht lovin' the christmas action, Sat 11 Apr 2009, 21:59, closed)