
Thinly-disguised entrances to Hell where bad things happen. Tell us your dancefloor disasters.
( , Wed 8 Apr 2009, 12:35)
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It was the end of the night. He was sitting on the kerb outside the club, looking much the worse for wear and about to be hit by a taxi.
"You all right, mate?" I asked.
He grinned.
"Yeah. I'm walking on strawberries. But it's OK. I've got my happy Tuesday shoes on..."
( , Wed 15 Apr 2009, 11:03, 4 replies)

Are they supposed to have a point?
I honestly didn't realise...
( , Wed 15 Apr 2009, 11:28, closed)

Slightly stroppy mood for a minute there, obviously.
@GR - I take it back. And I like your screenname.
( , Wed 15 Apr 2009, 11:30, closed)
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