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( , Sun 1 Apr 2001, 1:00)
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I bet you did!
Tuesdays are shit, but Wednesdays are shitter.
All them new reality shows are shit. Splash! The Jump, et al. event the addition of Kylie to The Voice hasn't brought it back from the Jessie J infested depths.
Saturday night telly generally. It's turned into a dvd night.
Alt. Vladimir Putin at the minute, but anyone in Politics, really. Obama seems alright.
altalt. Used to get my arse felt all the time as a barman. I'm not a piece of meat! hen nights are horrid things. "I'm getting married, let's celebrate this by being a drunk slag in pink feathers!"
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 11:55, 4 replies, latest was 11 years ago)
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Got the Guinness Museum and apparently the Smallest Bar in Europe (possibly) in, stayed round Temple Bar, Trinity College, Grafton Street.
Nice :)
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:12, Reply)
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or wailing, depending on how UPSET I was at the time.
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:16, Reply)
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if you count 16.50 euros a reasonable entry price.
(to the museum, not my arse)
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:26, Reply)
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When I had mine, I vetoed any 'comedy' t-shirts, 'hilarious' props, and drunken shenanigans.
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 11:58, Reply)
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booked the local pub, and had a dance teacher teach us a routine to pop hits of the day. As we got merrier, the dancing got more complicated.
I was the shittest dancer there : (
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:01, Reply)
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I don't do big crowds, or heavy drinking, or screeching harpies, so a traditional hen night would have been my idea of hell.
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:06, Reply)
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I just wanted a day out boozing with my mates
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:01, Reply)
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The blokes were almost always way more inventive with their 'themes'.
My particular favourite was the dozen or so guys who all arrived at separate times, wearing full country tweed, followed by the stag dressed as a fox.
The women usually just had t-shirts saying 'Sandra sucks cock' and 'Slaggy Sarah'.
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:04, Reply)
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Just took over one corner of a good pub, full steak dinner, much beer and spirits consumed. Why waste half a night staggering between pubs?
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:05, Reply)
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Women hunt in packs, men hunt solo.
Thus a pretty girl with more than half a brain can pick apart a group of lads, simply by flirting with each one in turn, but a guy approaching a hen do will be torn apart.
Ugh.
I organised my mate's stag do, in which we went to a comedy club in Bristol (yeah, yeah). There was a hen do in front of us, with the obligatory camp gay male friend. Five words: pink, cock-shaped deely-boppers.
Ugh.
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:13, Reply)
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Well, no common ones, anyway.
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:15, Reply)
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Stag dos can be great, though - mine was. My brief was simply that I enjoy getting drunk in the company of my friends. Considering what pricks my friends are, I suggested we do it a relatively good distance from civilisation.
Cue us going to a nice house on the outskirts of a nice little village in Devon for a weekend, where we went fishing in the morning, and sat by the swimming pool in the afternoon and evening, chatting, playing, and drinking our own bodyweight in booze.
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:24, Reply)
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On a stag do?
( , Tue 28 Jan 2014, 12:17, Reply)
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