Lies that got out of control
Ever claimed you could speak a foreign language to impress friends, colleagues and/or get laid? Make a twat of yourself - and I couldn't possibly comment - saying you were the godson of the chairman of BP? Tell us how your porkies have caught up with you
(Thanks to augsav and Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic for the suggestions)
( , Thu 12 Aug 2010, 13:03)
Ever claimed you could speak a foreign language to impress friends, colleagues and/or get laid? Make a twat of yourself - and I couldn't possibly comment - saying you were the godson of the chairman of BP? Tell us how your porkies have caught up with you
(Thanks to augsav and Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic for the suggestions)
( , Thu 12 Aug 2010, 13:03)
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Camberley 1989
We'd got a pass out into town, and ignoring the usual "pubs out of bounds" list, 6 of us made our way into the fleshpit that was 1980's Camberley.
Every pub in that town had this on the door: "NO DOGS. NO GYPSIES. NO SQUADDIES." All that was, except one. The busty landlady at The Cambridge welcomed us in. Her sons were at Aldershot, and her father had been at Pirbright, so she knew we just wanted some ale, some grub, and a shag. We didn't rule out a fight, but 1-3 were more important.
So, we bang a few pints down, and then need somewhere to go. The landlady said there was a shit club next door with women of the easy kind, and if the bouncers gave us any trouble, we were to tell them we were fitting double glazing at the Cambridge.
So off we trots, and we get the usuall conversation: "Sorry lads... no squaddies". "We are not squaddies - we're fitting double glazing at the Cambridge". "Oh, ok... come in then to this palace of mediocrity and have a pint and a boogie".
So we gets in. We chats up, we flirts, we move in on some tail, and more importantly we get some big drinking in.
One of our group is more pissed than ever when he walks past a bouncer who starts to ask him about the styles and number of windows being fitted at the Cambridge. To which he replies "How the fuck should I know... I blow tanks up".
There was a delay of about 5 minutes, before a group of locals and bouncers were intent on kicking the shit out of us. They did quite a good job too. Although not too bad that it stopped us from getting a pizza on the way back to barracks.
I did hear that the Irish Rangers hit town on Saturday night and totally trashed it from head to toe.
( , Fri 13 Aug 2010, 8:27, 4 replies)
We'd got a pass out into town, and ignoring the usual "pubs out of bounds" list, 6 of us made our way into the fleshpit that was 1980's Camberley.
Every pub in that town had this on the door: "NO DOGS. NO GYPSIES. NO SQUADDIES." All that was, except one. The busty landlady at The Cambridge welcomed us in. Her sons were at Aldershot, and her father had been at Pirbright, so she knew we just wanted some ale, some grub, and a shag. We didn't rule out a fight, but 1-3 were more important.
So, we bang a few pints down, and then need somewhere to go. The landlady said there was a shit club next door with women of the easy kind, and if the bouncers gave us any trouble, we were to tell them we were fitting double glazing at the Cambridge.
So off we trots, and we get the usuall conversation: "Sorry lads... no squaddies". "We are not squaddies - we're fitting double glazing at the Cambridge". "Oh, ok... come in then to this palace of mediocrity and have a pint and a boogie".
So we gets in. We chats up, we flirts, we move in on some tail, and more importantly we get some big drinking in.
One of our group is more pissed than ever when he walks past a bouncer who starts to ask him about the styles and number of windows being fitted at the Cambridge. To which he replies "How the fuck should I know... I blow tanks up".
There was a delay of about 5 minutes, before a group of locals and bouncers were intent on kicking the shit out of us. They did quite a good job too. Although not too bad that it stopped us from getting a pizza on the way back to barracks.
I did hear that the Irish Rangers hit town on Saturday night and totally trashed it from head to toe.
( , Fri 13 Aug 2010, 8:27, 4 replies)
the agincourt is not a Dive!
It is the countries premier rock club! It was/is great. Although I haven't been for years. There's never any trouble at the Ag, it's too laid back.
I think he is talking about either JW's, although I dont know what it was called in the 80's.
Unless he is talking about Ragamuffins.
( , Fri 13 Aug 2010, 10:43, closed)
It is the countries premier rock club! It was/is great. Although I haven't been for years. There's never any trouble at the Ag, it's too laid back.
I think he is talking about either JW's, although I dont know what it was called in the 80's.
Unless he is talking about Ragamuffins.
( , Fri 13 Aug 2010, 10:43, closed)
I googled it.
On google street view it looks likes the Cambridge is now called RSVP, and the club is the extension to the left. It's on London Road (A30).
It was a shithole twenty years ago. I guess it hasn't improved.
( , Fri 13 Aug 2010, 11:43, closed)
On google street view it looks likes the Cambridge is now called RSVP, and the club is the extension to the left. It's on London Road (A30).
It was a shithole twenty years ago. I guess it hasn't improved.
( , Fri 13 Aug 2010, 11:43, closed)
We
used to make up silly jobs names.
"What do you do?"
"I'm and underwater wood welder"
"High altitude tree surgeon" etc
If the girl fell for it then then you were quids in.
When I was up in Catterick, The Black Watch had a lifetime ban from every pub in Richmond :)
( , Fri 13 Aug 2010, 11:05, closed)
used to make up silly jobs names.
"What do you do?"
"I'm and underwater wood welder"
"High altitude tree surgeon" etc
If the girl fell for it then then you were quids in.
When I was up in Catterick, The Black Watch had a lifetime ban from every pub in Richmond :)
( , Fri 13 Aug 2010, 11:05, closed)
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