Funnily enough most of my odd waking up moments have followed alcohol.*
My personal favourite (that I can remember) would probably be waking up lying in a bus queue at Victoria Coach Station about half one on a Monday morning. The last thing I'd remembered previously was sitting in Hyde Park attempting to drink a box of cheap wine some time around 5/6pm the previous day.


*And, not coincidentally, b3ta bashes.
( Ijon Tichy, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 22:14, Reply)

In a puddle...
...on a balcony.

One morning I woke up on a balcony, in a puddle. It'd have made more sense if the balcony were in my block of flats but it was actually in the block next to mine. No idea how I got in to then climb onto the balcony as I don't have a key...ah well.
( Captain V, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 22:11, Reply)

20-odd years ago, I was persuaded to attend a motorbike rally held in January.
The time of year was apparently chosen to discourage all but the most serious bikers. Well, I should have stayed at home then.

I scrounged an old canvas tent and some prehistoric sleeping bags, the down-filled sort.

The only way to cope with the intense cold was to get as drunk as possible and then attempt to get into the sleeping bag before passing out.

The boyfriend at the time was a restless sleeper and being well over 6' tall, he found his lower legs protruding from the tent several times on the first night.

After being woken up a few times by his complaints about the cold and damp, I got up, went outside and put a binbag over the protruding sleeping bag.

This worked OK until some bastard nicked it.

So the next night, we had two ancient, rotten sleeping bags, one of which was soaking wet at the bottom, a leaky sagging tent and two ferocious hangovers.

That night, we got even drunker and the boyf at some point decided to get warm by attempting coitus inside my sleeping bag, despite the fact that I was wearing all the clothes I had brought plus leathers.

The bag split from top to bottom and the tent filled with feathers. We staggered out, choking.

Next morning, we took the tent down, stuffed the remains of the two ruined sleeping bags into our remaining binbag, shook the groundsheet and watched in wonder as a million fluffy white feathers floated across the frosty field. Not a sight you see every day.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 21:55, Reply)

As a cadet
I was lucky enough to be part of a group who were sent on a ride in a Chinook chopper for a quick buzz around where ever we were at the time.

Having spent the entire of the night previous in a ditch or on overwatch I was absolutely knackered and promptly fell asleep.
Unfortunately for me, the rear crew decided to play a little joke on me, hooked me up and stood me infront of the wide open rear doors.

The pilot started doing some fancy low level stuff and, with me passed out hanging from my tether, the crew came over the comms directly into my right ear.

Try to imagine waking up and seeing only land and sky rotating at very strange angles, the wind rushing through your DPMs and the crew screaming
"Holy shit, how the fuck did he fall out the back?" repeatedly.

It took me exactly 3 seconds to get from the LZ to the bar, and about 4 hours to stop shaking.
Bastard flyboys.
( Pointy Head poked another hole in my anorak on, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 21:50, Reply)

La La Lapland
Iv been working in lapland the last two weeks, working 20 hour days and living on no sleep at all so i kept falling asleep in random places, LIke next to a fire when handing out bells for a sami warrior. At the airport wehile greeting guests (standing up) on the bouncy castle and in the blaapit of the kids area, with numerous kids climbing all over me, at a ceremony in the artic circle and on the buses back from airport. i was a nightmare.
(StrangeKristine, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 21:47, Reply)

co op
when im brassic i walk home. its mostly uphill so i always sit on co op wall for a bit for a cig and rest. one night fell asleep on wall and my cousin found me a few hours later and piled me in her taxi. had a rant to paki driver about immigrants taking all jobs.
(wardie-slcm, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 21:18, Reply)

In an attempt to stay up all night on the Internet at Uni
My friend and I took loads of proplus, and foolishly mixed this with vodka.

I woke up on the computer lab floor just as a class was coming in.

After the Christmas do at work, my colleague woke up on a building site, cuddling a steel girder.
( Rubymurray is disdainful of your hateful, ill-formed opinions, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 21:12, Reply)

Lightning?
Away with scouts on a hike, get to the campsite (nice place on the side of a valley) set up camp and faff about for a while, when it starts raining

Apparently the worst thunderstorm for the last 90 years or something silly like that, us all out in wee hike tents, so that night was spent by many sitting in said tents, scared shitless and wide awake.

Me on the other hand, went to bed and was snoring withing about five minutes, much to the annoyance of everyone else.

David
(442, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 21:12, Reply)

Suffolk

( Butters and his titanium codsocket, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 21:09, Reply)

Not so strange?
I fell asleep in a chair watching a movie after a couple of beers at a mates house. Not so strange, you might think?

My then girlfriend was riding at the time... and continued riding me for the next 45 minutes before clicking that I was asleep. Was funny watching her walk the morning after...
(Potty Jag har smör i min rumpspringa, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 21:05, Reply)

they are all equally stange in there own way
It was the first propper party i went to where we had booze and we were camping in a field next to the house. However after two cans of fosters i was so pissed i couldn't climb out of the ditch seperating the garden from the field. So i slept in a ditch, with a stream running through it... i got hyperthermia.

I was also dared to sleep on a park bench in february. If sucesffully done i would have had a bacon butty bought for me...the bastards never gave me that sandwich.

Other drunken adventures have included under a hedge, in a cupboard, in a cave and on a mountain in one foot of snow (by myself 10km away from a road). A non drunken even included in a bed naked with another straight man
(GIbbonsrwild, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 21:01, Reply)

New Years
New Years party a few years ago, bout half eleven, everyones drunk and doing the usual drunk things and faffing about. A mate managed to crawl behind a sofa and fall asleep.

When he woke up and crawled out ten minutes later he was really quite upset when we told him he had missed the bells and it was one in the morning now, so stomped around in a huff for a while until someone pointed out a clock to him...

David
(442, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 20:57, Reply)

Under a bench at Washington Dulles airport.
Not so much is the strangeness of the place, but the circumstances leading up to my being there.

I was flying to Minneapolis, Minnesota from Manchester England via Washington Dulles, Washington D.C to see the lady who is now my wife. I had done a lot of flying back and forth prior to this flight, which happened to be the final one. Anyone who's done a lot of international flying will tell you that you gather a lot of interesting stories on your travels. Out of all the catastrophes I faced on my travels, this is by far the most incredible.

My flight arrived arrived in Washington Dulles airport at around 2pm US Eastern time. By this time I had already been travelling for 15 hours and was not feeling at my best. Of course, upon entering a US airport from another country, my first port of call is the immigration area.

Upon arriving in the immigration area, I am overawed by what I see. A queue of what turned out to be over 2000 people were waiting in those long windy queue things they rope off. Of the 16 available immigration desks, only one was being manned by an immigration officer.

Time was already tight for me 'cause I only had 2 hours before boarding for my next flight began. In this two hours I had to get through immigration, exit the security area, collect my luggage (which included two cases and a fucking huge box containing my PC & monitor), re-check my luggage and get a new boarding pass, and make it to my gate.

2 hours later when my flight was scheduled for departure, I had only progressed about a quarter of the way through the line.

In the line I met a lot of nice people who all had their own horror stories. The worst was a family of 5 who had booked a flight to some obscure island for a once in a lifetime holiday on some unspoiled paradise. However, the airline they're with only flies to/from this island every 4 days, so missing their flight pretty much fucked their entire holiday.

By 8:45pm I made it to immigration. Immigration was not happy. You see, out of the 12 months prior to this trip, I had spent 7 of them in the US, which they now decided to try and tell me was bad. I had adhered to the 3 month visa waiver thingies they give, flying back to England once my time was up then immediately returning to the US.

Mrs Immigration woman did not seem to appreciate that I could continue to work for a British company while in the US, since I'm a software developer and can pretty much work from anywhere I like. She eventually stamped a yellow piece of paper, handed it to me, then pointed in the vague direction of some corner and said "go there and wait for them to call you."

I went in the direction she showed, but only found a disorganised collection of those carts they let you hire for an extortionate fee to haul your luggage around. After a while someone walked by who looked like he worked there, so I held up the yellow paper and asked where I was supposed to be. He started ranting in some language of which I have no understanding, so I just held up the paper and smiled. The cunt then proceeded to slap me up the back of the head, grab me by the shoulders and thrust me towards an unmarked door, jabbing his finger at it wildly. I went in.

Inside was a waiting room and a reception desk. I went to the reception desk and showed the woman the piece of yellow paper I had. Without pause she snapped at me, practically yelling "You will sit and wait until you are called for! There are others here who have been waiting much longer than you." Fair enough, I thought, and I took a seat.

With me in the waiting room was some old guy who looked Indian, a family of folks who looked like they were perhaps from some north-eastern European country, and some Mediterranean looking woman who was crying wildly. She was the first to be called to the desk... after about an hour.

They proceeded to tell her that they were not allowing her on the flight, which was to California to see her daughter was apparently dying of cancer and had mere weeks to live. She went fucking mental. She grabbed a handful of shit from the receptionists desk and threw it in her face, then slapped her. Then she proceeded to pick up a pair of chairs from the reception (they were in pairs, welded together, and looked pretty heavy) and threw them both at the receptionist, who was running into the room behind her yelling "security!"

Two men in light armour, carrying big ol' guns, came running out and pointed them at the woman's head. She shut up real quick. They escorted her away. The next hour comprised of the receptionist reorganising her shit.

By 10:50pm I was called in to speak to an immigration officer. I was led into a small office lit only by a lamp. I shit ye not, it was just like those old interrogation scenes in crappy films where they shine a light in the guy's eyes and bark a bunch of questions at him. The immigration officer had the bare bulb of his lamp right in my face, and he was yelling at me, accusing me of working illegally in the US. I managed to remain calm and rational, and explained to him a bunch of times that I was working for a British company over the internet and bringing British money into the US, which is a benefit to their economy. After 20 minutes of this silly little exchange he flipped the main light on and told me he was letting me into the country despite it being against protocol simply because I was one of the few that day who had remained calm and not lost composure. I shook the man's hand and proceeded on my way to find my luggage and see what the airline could do for me.

Upon exiting the waiting room and coming back into the big immigration area. It was much darker by now, and through the big windows at the end of the room that looked out over the runways I could see a rainstorm of epic proportions beating down on the land. I saw a woman wearing a uniform branded with my airline's logo, so I asked her what I could do. She said my flight had been delayed due to weather, and wasn't due for takeoff for another hour and a half. If I was quick I could make it, she said.

So I ran as fast as my weary body could carry me all the way to the luggage checking area. On the farthest belt I spotted the box containing my PC and monitor. I ran up there and snatched it up, along with my two cases. Now I had to carry all this lot (a big, heavy box, two heavy cases, and my hand luggage) about 300 yards through a crowd of disgruntled flyers to get it re-checked. I spotted one of those cart thingies and dragged my shit over. It was mounted on a rail that would only release it after it received $5. So I tried my debit card in the little slot... no luck. And I had no cash with me. I started dragging my shit by hand when I realised I had $5 in the zippy pocket of my backpack. I turned to go back and claim the cart, but some cunt got to it first. It was the very last one.

So I begin to drag my shit across the floor. I am very tired and very weary by now, and the 300 yard haul through the crowd felt like miles. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, I get to the baggage checkpoint.

Then the cunts tell me my stuff is too heavy. "It obviously wasn't too heavy for the last flight!" I argue, but they demand that I drop two pounds and 4 ounces or my baggage will not be checked. I checked in my PC and one case, and went to work lightening up the other. From it I had to cram into my hand luggage a few pairs of jeans, a bunch of English chocolate (my wife's kids love English chocolate 'cause American chocolate is fucking horrible) and a bunch of CDs. After this haul, my case finally came in under the weight cap. However, my backpack now felt like a lead block on my back.

Which made the run to my gate a whole lotta fun.

If you've ever been to Washington Dulles, you'll know its a fucking labyrinth. Most of the screens and signs were giving me conflicting information as to where I needed to be. One small favour was that re-checking through security did not take long. But getting to my gate (which nobody told me would require jumping on a bus) was a nightmare. After a while someone told me where the bus was, and how many stops it would take to get to my gate.

I get there with mere minutes to spare, or so I thought.

Delayed.

My flight had been delayed again. It's now just before 1am and I am knackered. I sat down and waited.

I opened my eyes and everything seemed a bit different. FUCK! I had fallen asleep! How long was I out? I had no idea. I panicked and looked at the screens to find out if I'd missed my flight. It wasn't on there! SHIT! FUCKING CUNTYFUCK! COCKING FUCKETYSHIT! I am about to turn away and run to a representative when I see a blink out of the corner of my eye. More flights popped onto the screen... it was just updating. My flight was still in! Delayed 'til 3:15am. Thank cunt for that.

But I can't fall asleep again! What am I to do? I walked.

I did laps around the gate building. I don't know how many, but it was plenty. I'd occasionally talk to the people at the boarding desk, and they told me my flight was stuck in Toronto but would be here soon. I walked. And walked. And walked. For hours. Tired. Sleepy. Aching. Stinking of sweat.

Then I felt a funny feeling in my legs and my vision blurred. I collapsed.

Not only did I collapse, but I collapsed against the sharp shutters of one of those airport shops, grazing my face and cutting the side of my wrist. I came back to my senses as soon as my head hit the floor. From the floor I could see a rush of feet heading towards my boarding gate. Had my flight come in, finally?

I gathered my senses and made my way up there. The plane had indeed come in, but the woman at the desk informed us all over her little loudspeaker that they had the plane, but the crew had gone missing! FUCKERS! THEY LOST MY FUCKING CREW!

They vowed to find the missing pilot and crew, then boarding would begin.

At this point I was just pacing in a small circle near the desk, when a little kid, looking Indian or something (he looked like one of those little shoalin kids to me) tugged on my jacket. I turned to face him, and he was looking up at me smiling. His hand was outstretched towards me, and in it was a can of Red Bull. He jabbed it towards me twice, and I took it, then he grinned even wider, then run away, back to what I assumed were his parents.

That is without a doubt the most surreal moment of my entire fucking life.

I obviously drank the Red Bull, and its excessive caffeine did bring back to me some of my composure. Which was just as well, 'cause a few minutes after I finished it, my flight was cancelled.

There was a surge of people all running to the corner of the building to get in line at customer services. Owing to the caffeine I managed to get there before most, jumping lines of benches like hurdles where I had to.

I figured that since there were only 9 people infront of me (comprising three parties of people) it would take no time at all for them to resolve my situation.

Unfortunately it seems the cunts move fastest in airports. All three parties infront of me were comprised of total twunts who made a 10 minute affair of being booked onto a different flight into a half hour shouting ordeal that couldn't possibly achieve anything. I mean, these poor cunts are just customer services monkeys, what is the point in complaining to them? It's not like they have any fucking authority. So getting these fuckers out of the way took a grand total of one hour and fourteen minutes. Fucking cunty cunts.

Myself and some blonde girl I had ended up paired with in the line approached the desk next. We were both on our way to Minneapolis, and the girl said she could get us on a 7am flight to Chicago, which would then transfer to Minneapolis. She also offered us a hotel room each to stay in, which was a totally dickish gesture since it would take an hour to get to the hotel, then I would only have about 20 minutes sleep before I'd have to get up to get back through security. But I made them book the hotel room anyway, just to be a dick and cost them some money. My blonde companion did the same. By now I was crashing. The Red Bull was wearing off and I was swaying on my feet. I basically followed the blonde to my next gate. There was no way I coulda done it myself, so thank fuck for her. When I got to my gate at I had four hours before boarding time. When I got there they offered me a cold pop tart and a pillow. How nice of them.

This is when I ended up sleeping under the bench. Thankfully the airport people had provided an alarm clock on the desk nearby. I tried to sleep on top of the benches, but they were those concave arse shaped moulded plastic fucking things and were thoroughly uncomfortable. So I slept under them.

The alarm went off and I woke up feeling a little better, but completely unrested. I woke up my blonde companion, whose pretty young face had been transformed by bad sleep into something less than attractive. I told her she looked as bad as I felt. She wasn't amused.

By this time I smelled really bad. I'd been in the clothes I was in for over 24 hours. So I went into the airport bathroom to clean myself up. I'm not a shy person, so when I got in there, I unloaded a towel, a washcloth, some soap, a toothbrush and some toothpase, and proceeded to wash my whole body using the sink. Lots of people looked at me like I was walking through a school playground with my dick in my hand, but I didn't care, 'cause I had everything I needed to freshen up, including a fresh change of clothing.

One thing to note is, all through this I was out of contact with the woman who was picking me up in Minneapolis. The woman who would eventually be my wife. Turns out she had waited for me at the airport until night-time, where the airline had told her of the cancellation of my flight, and given her a hotel room.

My flight to Chicago went off without a hitch, and in Chicago my transfer went as smooth as silk, since my baggage was transferred automatically this time. I finally got to Minneapolis 25 hours later than I should have.

I haven't flown since.
( MarkyH feels like the H in Bob Hoskins' name, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 20:35, Reply)

I blame cider
After a particularly good bender I thought it wise to walk the 45 minutes it took to get home since I couldn't afford a cab. I made it to the street where I lived where I thought it might be a good idea to sit down by the road side and have one last cigarette (house mate was a complete nazi about smoking).

I woke up the next morning to the disgusted looks of people walking their kiddies to school. The two cars I recall being on either side of me where gone.

Another 10 feet closer to the house and I could have truthfully said I slept in the gutter.

Had a sore neck/back/arm for a few days but it was worth it to see those children's faces.
(mstar, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 20:29, Reply)

Up Against The Bass Bin At The Gallery In Leeds
It was 10p a pint night back in 1991, I had been working all week on a project, and had put in a lot of hours.
Come Saturday night I was ready to kick back and relax along with my compadrés at the aforementioned establishment.
Come 10pm and a few plastic glasses of the amber nectar, I took a few minutes breather from dancing by the speaker stacks. I remember feeling all warm and fuzzy, and then my mates were waking me up to leave..it was 2am.
How the hell I managed 4 hours asleep in a student nightclub without being molested or getting my wallet nicked defeats me, but I did it.
There are photos somewhere from the evening showing me slumped against the speaker, sleeping like a baby.

I rest on your face, your honour.
(LunarJim, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 20:26, Reply)

Swimming
Went camping in the woods for a weekend with about 40 members of the local Air training corps in the start of spring in the late nineties. It had been something my mother had pushed me into 'It will build character sonny' type of thing.

Anyway as I wasn't fussed about the whole event, at the start of the camp myself and a mate dawdled along at the end of the column of trampers for the whole day and were so far behind that when we hit the campsite clearing for the night there was on this small slope of gorse covered ground free.

As it was getting dark we slapped out tent down on this land and rushed to join everyone else already sitting around the camp fire.

That night we discovered the joys of putting your tent on top of gorse and for the first hour in the dark (forgot to pack a torch) with a sock over my hand trying to rip out as much of the offending spiky stuff as possible.

After sleeping for a few hours I awoke to find than during the night because I was twisting and turning so much, and that we had positioned our tent's opening at the bottom of the slope, I had slowly wriggled my way out of the tent and combined with all the spring mildew on the ground, had slid down the hill and now had my feet plonked into the stream that ran through the campsite.

Spent the next day tramping along with my sleeping bag draped around my shoulders like some sad superman type cape, trying to dry the bloody thing.

Character building she called it.
(Fudds Ghost, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 20:25, Reply)

Can sleep anywhere so I can
Short and swift and in no particular order:

1). Mates' snow covered front garden. In a t-shirt and a pair of 3/4 shorts. Jack Daniels led to this one.
2). Underneath my parent's garden table. Mr Daniels once more responsible.
3). Sorting frame in my rural delivery office. No other reason other than I felt like a nap.
4). Milton Keynes coach station pavement, then an "upgrade" to the soft grassy bank there. Probably the strangest of the lot in all honesty.
(Rob Roy The Postie is looking for alternative employment, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 20:15, Reply)

After a Xmas knees up
Didn't happen to me but a mate at work. We went out on a Friday evening a couple of weeks ago for a departmental night out. The lot of us got totally bladdered as you'd expect but my mate, who is a legend in the partying hard department, woke up Saturday morning in the dark, in a disabled toilet of a company he'd never been to and had no idea how he got there! He tried to get out the front door of the offices but it was locked so he ended up phoning the maintenance guy after looking the number up at their reception. Even said their security was a bit lax.
(13 Floors Up, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 20:10, Reply)

After Notting Hill Carnival
A few years ago I overdid it slightly at Carnival and didn't make it back in time to catch my train home. Next thing I knew I woke up freezing my nuts off at about 5.00 am just outside Railtrack House at Euston Station- in some weird piece of modern sculpture. It wasn't until I went to buy my ticket to get home and saw my reflection that I realised I still had blue paint all over my face courtesy of the "Save The Rhino Campaign." I have no idea what I was doing there as my train leaves from Liverpool Street.
(Emu, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:58, Reply)

a Grateful Dead concert
I was bored to sleep.

Also, on top and inside of an ex-girlfriend. She let me lay there for a good hour or so.
( Scoopzilla http://www.slapwatch.com now get to fuck, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:50, Reply)

Eastbourne Seafront
Me and a mate were visiting eastbourne with another mate, who's girlfriend lived there. Seeing they hadn't seen each other for a while, me and my mate decided to leave the couple alone for the night!! We parked up on the seafront and proceeded to smoke ourselves into giggles, philosophy, hunger & unconciousness(in no particular order). Woke up the next morning surrounded by coffin-dodgers staring through the car window! It felt like i was in dawn of the dead.
(Guardy, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:48, Reply)

I once managed to fall asleep in a bus shelter
It was 7am and I was waiting at the bush shelter, on the bus to work. Unfortunately it was the Monday after a weekend of almost no sleep. You see, it was about the time I had just discovered Warcraft 3, and I had been playing without sleep from around 11pm the prior Friday all the way through to about 4am the Monday in question.

So needless to say, I was tired.

So I'm waiting in the bus shelter. It's a January morning and rather cold. I had neglected to put on anything warmer than a thin sweater and some jeans. I had my MP3 player on at full volume, listening to an assortment of loud antisocial metal tunes. A situation not conducive to sleep, even for the critically tired?

I managed it. Which is very odd for me. I can't sleep in cars or planes 'cause of the noise. I usually require very particular conditions to sleep, no matter how tired I might be. Not only did I fall asleep, but I managed to remain undisturbed for a total of 1 hour and 11 minutes before some old lady woke me up asking if I'd lost my coat.
( MarkyH feels like the H in Bob Hoskins' name, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:31, Reply)

A Bill Bailey gig.
Seriously, it was shit.
(meepmeep is, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:21, Reply)

Snooker matches
Also, the same dude that went to sleep at the Iron Maiden gig, has also gone asleep at Snooker matches.

Word has it, that the snooker match in question was broadcast by the BBC. With the footage of him sound asleep in the audience.

Oddly, he is proud of being on TV too, despite being asleep.

So, if you any of you guys video'd a match at the Sheffield Crucible and notice a dude that looks like an extra in Wayne's World sound asleep, this, my friends is the man himself.

I shit you not, people...
(Panteneman Isn't entirely sure why he bothered on, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:18, Reply)

Unintentional outback trip
I was living in a northern suburb of Sydney, and after an all-night bender in the centre of the city, I got on a train for the 45 minute journey home at about 6am.

Obviously, I fell asleep.

I was woken by the ticket inspector who asked for my ticket, which I dutifully handed over. He then asked me for ID. In my bleary-eyed unthinking state, I handed over my passport.

The twunt then proceeded to write me out a fine for 100 dollars, and forecfully kicked me off at the next station without explanation.

Still pissed and confused, I stumbled off onto the station platform. As the train pulled off, I wondered a) why it was so brain-fryingly hot, b) why no-one was around and c) where the hell the whole of Sydney had gone. I was on a small unmanned platform, without a soul around, in blazing late morning heat, in the middle of a desolate Australian plain.

Turns out, after I'd missed my stop and the train had reached it's terminus in the city, it had changed to the morning inter-city service to Brisbane, and I had snoozed peacefully most of the way to Newcastle, and was in the outback about 250 miles north of Sydney.

I spent the next 4 hours, waiting for a train to come in the other direction, napping fitfully in a maintenance alcove off a shadeless platform.

There are hangovers and then, there are hangovers.
(meepmeep is, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:14, Reply)

in a forest
atop a pile of dead babies.

apologies for length.
(mmmkay, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:11, Reply)

Iron Maiden gig, Manchester
A mate of mine actually went to sleep through the recent Iron Maiden gig in Manchester.

Not my bag personally, and chose not to go. But my two best mates, and two of theirs went to the gig.

This dude, heing a massive scatterhead taxi driver who complains about his hours being "messed up" can't organise himself out of a paper bag. As a consequence, he clearly didn't gain enough sleep and energy the day before.

I thought it was bloody hillarious. I sent him a box of Pro Plus as an xmas present with a kind note hidden within.

"Take two tablets before attending concerts and snooker matches. Remember, you are not a baby, as only babies go asleep at random moments".

With a greetings card, that had a cartoon of a few people in fancy dress, with one dressed up as a giant boob. The quote being on the card "Dave enjoys making a tit out of himself", the message within saying "I think that says it all, don't you?"

Used someone else to provide the handwriting, in case he figured out it was me.
(Panteneman Isn't entirely sure why he bothered on, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:11, Reply)

well....
In a concrete bus shelter in Bramley, Surrey on the way home to Guildford from a pub in Godalming (or Cranleigh - can't remember exactly).

But most recently the top of my stairs not 5 or 6 steps away from my own comfy bed after a few too many sherberts.

Oh, I did wake up on the beach in Brighton once and have no idea how i got there as that night I had been at a barbecue in Guildford.
(bdgr can't think of anything witty to type here, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:10, Reply)

I've slept many strange places, but this is the strangest...
I was at Metros in Cardiff and they were doing a double vodka and coke for 99p! So I blame them. I can't remember anything after half 10, and ended waking up 6.30am in their big green wheelie bins outside.

It sounds bad but it must have been pretty comfortable as I was only woken by some bloke asking me if I was ok. Clearly not mate, I'm sleeping in a bin. Still made it to work for 9am.
(Nam_Rood, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:05, Reply)

Bolton
After a bottle of vodka to drown sulking over an ex binning me, and going to the local Rock Music gaff with a few mates and even more various drinks, there was a massive blank.

I ended up in some girl's gaff, got it on and I ended up in Bolton. Upon first awakening, the house layout was similar to a mate of mine who lived in Wigan. Upon exiting the premises, the girl in question woke up, along with her flatmate.

The house layout was so similiar, I was firmly under the impression that I was in my mates house in Wigan, but nooooo...... Bolton.

They were all "Thing is Panteneman, we told you several times in the taxi that we were heading back to Bolton and you wanted to come back with me and *insert girls name here*"

Vaguely remembered being pulled, but from that point onwards was a bit of a grey area.

What was a difficult one was I horizontal jogged with the girl, and yet I got through that morning and exiting the premises without ever needing to use her name. As I clearly forgot it due to massive alcohol consumption.

Thought it was bloody hillarious, and a cracking yarn to share with mates of mine.
(Panteneman Isn't entirely sure why he bothered on, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 19:03, Reply)