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This is a question Where is the strangest place you have slept?

'lardaholics anonymous' was bored and started a new question over in the old question, so the least we can do is make it official. What with New Year's celebrations coming up, asking for the strangest place you have slept is nicely appropriate too.

In case you are wondering, Portsmouth beach in the fog. Very strange waking up to that.

(, Fri 29 Dec 2006, 8:57)
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Party sleep
I was quite proud to be able to sleep after this:

One of the partygoers was a prankster par excellence, Clem (for that was his name) was six foot six and looked like Kurgan from Highlander and was probably as mad. Previous parties had seen me being woken up with a knee in the pods and a bucket of water in the face by this jolly chappie, so I was anxious to find somewhere to crash safe from Clem (who was also responsible for soaking the white t-shirt clad lady partygoer and breaking a bed mid-coitus.

I was huddling down for a night on the landing when the door opened from the lounge and I heard a hushed whisper of "PJM!". I looked round to see the hostess clad in a duvet suggesting I kip on the lounge floor. However she wasn't alone...

I weighed up my options - either get my eyebrows shaved or spend the night in a room with four other people all bonking like rabbits. I figured I could put a pillow over my ears and blot out the worst of the noise, so I grabbed my sleeping bag and stuff and shuffled into the lounge.

Pass me the mind-bleach...

Trudy and her partner were doing what sounded like gymnastics on an arthritic sofa bed with rusty springs. The noise was something akin to an asthmatic marathon runner trying to heave a rusty gate open repeatedly. Worse still, just a yard away from the end of my feet was a couple who hadn't even interrupted their rhythmn when they greeted me with a worryingly enthusiastic "Hi PJM!".

The next hour was utterly surreal. Basically if you assemble the following noises at random and repeat over and over you get the gist:

shuffle squelch groan creak

Even more worryingly, one of the bonking party engaged me in casual conversation. Sheesh.

Finally, I heard a new and unfamiliar shuffle followed by a pained voice saying "fucking hell, smells like a French brothel at half tide in here". And the voice was indeed correct (I assume as such, having never frequented a brothel in France). Turns out I wasn't the only solo in the room and that this chap had actually managed to sleep through the worst of it. What I'd have given to have traded places... Oh, the humanity!
(, Wed 3 Jan 2007, 10:18, Reply)

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