So a few friends and I were getting very stoned in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere in Somerset one warm summer night
And due to our rather intoxicated state, we kind of ... managed to get through three lighters. Not through smoking heroic amounts of gear, you understand, just through being drug-addled uncoordinated muppets.

The upshot of this is that someone needs to go and get a new lighter, and it is decided that someone should accompany that someone in case he loses his shit and can't get it together again to find his way back.

Rob offered to go for the lighter, and I offered to accompany him, and off we went.

Considering how fucked up we were, the decision to start jogging, which turned into running, was quite extraordinary, but it turned out we were training for the SAS anyway, so it was probably good practice.

"Mission? Check."

"Buying a lighter or matches. Check"

"Then being able to find our way back. Check"

"Looking out for prominent landmarks? Check one - large bunch of trees over there, and church spire behind us."

"Really quite mashed? Check."

Suddenly we were FLYING - in all honesty a good couple of meters. I hit the floor - pretty well face first. We'd managed to discover the one ankle-high fence in the whole of England, and run into it full-tilt.

Picking myself up out of the mud and grass, I looked over to where my mate was, and on seeing him had a horrible, horrible vision - my arse nearly fell out of my arse he was lying there twitching and convulsing and had clearly had a significant spinal injury oh my god how the fuck what the fuck oh shit this is fucking shit oh my god fuck fuck fuck shit fuck shit fuck I went over to him ...

"Mate?! Rob?!"

He was gasping for breath shit shit shit this isn't good oh fuck

"Rob?!" I panicked "Rob SPEAK TO ME!"

"MATE IF ONLY YOU'D HAD A VIDEO CAMERA WE'D BE 250 QUID UP BY NOW OFF YOU'VE BEEN FRAMED FOR THAT ONE!" he cried.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 25 Jan 2010, 9:19, Reply)