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This is a question Teenage Parties

Ah, the heady days when catering consisted of a crate of lager and some vodka illicitly extracted by whoever looked oldest, decoration consisted of removing any breakable furniture and the morning after was just the morning and not the rest of the week.

Tell us who you snogged, where you threw up and who just would not leave.

(, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 10:20)
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This question is now closed.

In response to Racetraitor (ish) (and slightly off topic - like i give a monkeys arse)
House party at uni house, many many many people there, most of them we don't know.

Bunch of about 12 skins turn up and start very obviously casing the joint for what to nick. Mate, very worried legs it to cop shop round the conrner and reports this. Conversation:

Mate: Party, skins, casing etc
Copper: ok - we'll come over - got any drugs on the premises?
mate: Er no, it's, erm, only a student party (gulp)
Copper: Ok, well you've got 10 mins to hide your stash - then we'll be over

10 mins later, two meatvans and a load of nightshifters turn up and escort the skins off, and we spend the rest of the night trying to work out who the frenchman was.

Happy days.
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 11:45, Reply)
Not a teenage party, but bear with me. My friend Larry had had too much to drink and passed out on the couch. Next to him, there was a young looking girl who was passing out too, and they started to lean toward each other. Then they started to make out. I asked her more sober friend, "How old is she?"


"Then I have no choice but to inform you your friend is in violation of the law. Larry here is 14 years old."

He was always getting the older girls. He lost his virginity at the age of 14 in a threesome when two older girls started messing around with him when he was nearly passed out. The next day, he was asking me, "Do you think I took advantage of them?"
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 10:23, Reply)
I'm in for a second
I was in university but my sister was still in high school. She was probably 16, and had started hanging out with our city's most A-list punks. I called them the Punk Royal Family because most of them were too stuck up to talk to anyone else.

Our parents were away in Europe for a few weeks, so my sister decided to have a party in our nice, two-storey, upper-middle-class neighbourhood house, with bands playing in the basement. Enter some of the city's spikiest, dirtiest, disobedient young punk kids.

One of the guys found a car unlocked down the street, and peed inside it. I later found out he was straight-edge, and thus stone-cold sober when he did that. So really he has no excuse for doing something like that.

We had six police cars show up at the party, probably a city record. Since then I always judge a party using the police car system.

"How was the party last night?"

"Oh, I'd say it was about two police cars until 11 when Dustin got his knob out, and then it was four police cars.
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 10:20, Reply)
If your friend's dad keeps £100 of Jack Daniels and an air rifle collection in his cupboard, I'd say that teenage parties are the least of the family worries.
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 10:05, Reply)
Week after week...
...I know I'm not supposed to do this, and I realise that it's faintly hypocritical in content, but:

There's always a handful here who either complain about or 'satirise' the other posts - '...this is basically what all the other posts are about so curse you all and your lack of imagination...' etc etc et al.

For the last time will you get it into your heads that the reason a given QOTW carries stories along similar lines is BECAUSE THEY'RE ANSWERING THE SAME FUCKING QUESTION, AND THOSE QUESTIONS ARE CHOSEN BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT EXCLUSIVE I.E. BASED ON A SUBJECT THAT MANY HAVE EXPERIENCE OF SO THAT MORE PEOPLE WILL HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY. That a number of similar experiences will surface is not really suprising, considering we're the same species. That gives us more than a few comparable characteristics in both thought and deed.

And then there's ones like disasterprone, who just like to arbitrarily attempt to belittle individuals and/or subgroups for no reason that's readily apparent. I've never bothered to speculate too deeply as to why, because conclusions on that score can never be good. Negative begets negative. Hence this post, I suppose.

The clock is running on how long it will take the mods to detect and delete this. I won't mind - I'm enjoying whining a little too much lately, I realise. I know why, but that's not info I'm willing to share. Suffice to say that I'll be back on form soon, I promise.
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 9:27, Reply)
I went to a party
once and met Brady. He was boring to talk to as well as to read. Uninspired, irrelevant and tedious. Although he does seem to think he's Paul Merton.

He was like a much thicker stusut79.
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 8:43, Reply)
Cockermouth Secondary School Disco Bus
A long time ago in a Cockermouth far, far away there was a party thrown by the teachers for their favorite pupil. His name was Tom Mcvey and and he had just completed a marathon in aid of blind camels. He had run over 30 metres whilst continuously playing the Eastenders theme on his beloved flute.

We were all gathered in the sports hall waiting for our guest of honour, when one of the teachers decided it would be a good idea to pass round a bottle of budweiser. Bad move! All 200 of us there had a sip and we were all instantly paraletic.

kids were being sick on each others shoes and loafers, there was a girl in the corner 'getting off' with a basketball and even Mr French was getting in on the act, wandering around shouting "who wants to see my bell-end?"

"i'm so wrecked" came the cry from one of the students as he woke up to find someone had drawn a detailed reproduction of the architects plans for the building of the new Wembley stadium on his face.

When Tom finally arrived he was appalled. "These young people are inebriated" he scornfully remarked and simply turned and walked back out, playing the theme from Dad's Army on his beloved flute as he went.

Slowly the party died down as the effects of that bottle of Budweiser wore off. We all awoke the next morning lying in what was effectively a swimming pool of vomit. The girl in the corner had 'gone all the way' with the basketball. Apparently they're still together.

Mr French had climbed to the top of the climbing wall and sellotaped his 'bell-end' to the roof and had fallen asleep in this position and the boy with the plans for wembley stadium on his face grew up to be Pol Pot!

We were so wrecked.
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 8:06, Reply)
Pot hangover
The worst hangover I have ever had in my life was caused by pot. And it involved nobody getting high.

Me and a mate got together at his place after work, where a couple of the gals that worked with us, who I will call L and S, were going to join us. One of which, L, I was hot for.

Well, I knew that L liked to drink vodka, so I went to the store and got me a liter bottle. The only brand I knew was Smirnoff. And here they were with Smirnoff 180 on sale. 90% alcohol. Perfect.

Got to my mates house with my bottle. Half hour later, L called with her regrets. What happened?

Well, L and S went by L's house to get a spliff. Her stash was so low, they tried to roll one made of sticks and seeds. And as they were trying to get it to light, L's boyfriend got home, detected L getting ready to go out, and put a stop to that.

So she calls, W (my mate) gets the call and breaks the news to me, and that was that. I took a liter mug, filled it half way with Smirnoff, added an equal amount of orange juice, and drank it. Half hour later, repeated the process.

Was sitting on the lounge half an hour after finishing the second mug full, and realised that I couldn't feel anything below my waist. Had W lift my legs up, so I could lie down. A half an hour after that, my pager went off. W had to bring the phone and hold it by my face, cause my arms wouldn't move. I convinced the duty officer at work that the problem that he was calling about could not be fixed that night in any way, that it would have to wait for the next morning (next morning starting in maybe 5 minutes anyway).

I lay on W's lounge all night, unable to move. Perfectly clear headed, but couldn't move anything but my tongue. Nothing came up, I got up about 4 am and drove to work to deal with the last nights emergency.

The hangover (the most splitting headache, and total dehydration, I have ever had) hit shortly after I pulled in at my desk. Learned about the value of tomato juice for hangover relief from a nurse there (I was working at a hospital). I have always kept a couple cans of tj on hand ever since.
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 6:45, Reply)
Commodore 64 midi music
Went to this house party. Knew a few people who were coming, but not the hosts that well.

Get there, and a female friend had this petrified expression on her face. Later she told us that was the first time in her life she was really glad to see us.

Turns out the bloke sitting next to her was trying to woo her with tales of his hobbies, and his main hobby was collecting fax machines.

That's right he had a whole room full of "classic" fax machines.

Okay slightly strange, time to get liquored up.

Next up, the host turns out to be a fan of Commodore 64 midi music. You ever tried to get your groove on to the theme from "Last Ninja" blaring in tinny music?

A clanger of a party, but my ride home isn't ready to go yet. So get talking to another bloke. Turns out he is moving out of the place he just moved into. Why? The place isn't big enough to house his star wars collection.

Bad enough right? No it would have been okay if this was a _teenage_ party, but they were all around 30.
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 4:53, Reply)
I swear it wasn't me..
I can't really add too much to what's already been said without saying the same old stuff.

There was one party that has gone down in history amongst the annals of drunken teenaged debauchery...and like the best of them, it all started so innocent. Scott's mother was going away and he wanted "a couple of lads" round for the usual cider-swigging shenanigans that every 15 year old is guilty of. Plans are laid, beverages and herbaceous materials are acquired and adequate munch was purloined and stashed. A huge lie was concocted in order to appease the parental units (something along the lines of "its Scott's birthday and we're all staying over" type thing) and the aforementioned "couple of lads" got excited and ready for a night of getting ripped to the tits. Oh how life was simple back then.

Anyway, friday rolls round, his mother rolls out and we all get phonecalls telling us we can come over. I got delayed but seeing as I was the "herbacous supplier" I was told things would wait until I arrived. After I got my stuff together and found the right bus, I walked up the path to his house and was instantly greeted by one of the most incredible smells ever - stale cider, cheap beer, vomit, kebabs and smoke. Shit, methinks, what happened to taking it easy? Turns out word had got around and the entire year (give or take a couple of the more studious types) had gotten hold of as much alcohol as their underaged arms could hold and shown up to Scotts place. The place was a wreck, Scott was weeping under the stairs and I struggled to take in the carnage as I walked from room-to-room. Some highlights were:

- A chair actually embedded in the patio door so that the legs had gotten stuck in the glass without it shattering
- A kitchen that was more-or-less on fire after a pizza had been put in the oven, box and cellophane wrapping and all
- Someone had fallen down the stairs and left 3 teeth and a rather large and extravagent stain on the carpet
- and the piece de resistance was the copious amount of puke in the grand piano.

Not wanting to be associated with any of this, I carefully picked my way through the beer tins, discarded takeaway wrappers and dubious carpet stains and told Scott that I'd see him on Monday.

For whatever reason, his mum stopped going on business trips after that...and while I'm glad that I had nothing to do with it, I have been reliably informed that it was "one fuck of a party." Ahh, the days before GCSE's were magical, were they not?

While I apologise about the length, you should really be more concerned with the wart at the base...
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 2:02, Reply)
more of a gathering
5 of us had gathered for a bit of a 'sesh' at a friends (A2) house (he has hosted many brilliant parties at this location). So the 5 of us are chatting away, when we be that A1 (as he will be known from now) couldnt drink a bottle of whiskey. he refuses to even try, we tell him that R could do it, and feel fine. A1 and R never have seen eye to eye, and are always trying to out do each other, and thus, A1 necked a bottle of whiskey. The rest of us drank normally, and then headed to the pub. A1 was getting very tipsy at this stage, and so we decided to head to a nightclub and get him in before he was too drunk. They stopped him just to search him, but, A1 saw it as a threat, and kicked off. As the doormen tried to remove him, he held on to the doorframe, screaming at the top fo his voice "IS THIS ABOUT ID??" Out he went, and we later found him talking to some random people about 'Chris packet, the greatest footballer ever'. Time for home, and for the 10 minutes it took, A1 screamed, fell over, walked away, stumbled, hit us and was generally a cunt. We finally got him in the house, where he collapsed on the floor. he was left there, and we headed to bed. During the night we heard him fall down the stairs, but decided to leave him as he'd annoyed us. In the morning however he was nowhere to be seen. we found 2 very neat packets of vomit on the stairs, pointing in the direction of the toilet. We approached slowly and edged to door open. The sight we saw will stay with us forever. Sat on the toilet was A1, covered in shit. his trousers, t-shirt hands and face. it turns out during the night he had needed a poo, and rushed up stairs. as he ran, he lost his footing and fell back down, where he shat himself. as he crawled back upstairs he was sick, not once, but twice. finally in the toilet, he pulled down his trousers to find a pretty messy brown package. in the confussion he picked up his jeans by the shitties part, covering his hands, realising his mistake he held his face in shame....covering his head in bowel spat. he then wiped his hands on his shirt and fell asleep on the jon.

we phoned him later that day, he had just got out of the shower after 3 hours of scrubbing himself.

(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 1:44, Reply)
Im not a klepto...
Excuse Length.

A few months back, a friend of a friend whom I had no interest in being associated with, invited us to his house for a medium sized dig. As I had expected the joint was filled with aspiring Chemical\Science engineer geeks and their significant others. Apon entry we were asked if we would like to enter a competition that was running for whom could guess within 5minutes when a particularly inebriated girl would meet her match with the vomit gods. The kitty was at about AUD$80 at this point.

Of course the only way to enjoy these types of evenings are to get rightfully sloshed and take the piss out of those whom you concider to be below you... so we did just that. Overhearing the host claim to be the worlds best Flash Flash Revolution player, I drunkenly challenged him to a duel. Upon losing, I opted to call him various derrogatory names and leave him enjoy his victory. About 2 hours into the evening a very upset host starts hasseling me in regards to a retainer wall which had mysteriously crumbled at the whim of drunken shinanegans. After truthfully denying the accusations and of course not being believed at all, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Here are a few of the stealth like events that took place in the time to follow:

** Removed the directional keys on Mr Hosts Keyboard.
** Stole a 1.125lt bottle of vodka, strawberries, and a sample bottle of champagne from Mr Hosts fridge.
** Pants'ed the complete Batman TV Series DVD Collection, the Office season 1, and very questionanle pornographic dvd.
** Made out with the vomit girls competition kitty as well as the whiteboard markers that were being used to keep tally of everyones bets.

I don't condone theft. But this guy was a total spadge.
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 1:19, Reply)
A proper teenage party ...
My bestever party was at my pal Gina's house c1998.

All the gang hooked up for a special prayer meet to welcome Iain who was new to 6th form. We started about 6PM with a nice chilli that Gina's Mum had cooked before she and Gina's Dad went out bowling.

There were only the eight of us, anyway, after tea and a few soft drinks and done the washing up, we cracked into the meat of the evening which was a few rounds of prayers. We decided to push the boat out a bit and do it 'Quaker style' which means you all go round and say a prayer for the group or whatever in turn, which if you've never done it before, feels quite hardcore and out there.

Anyway, Iain, bless him, goes and asks the Lord (in front of all of us, right) to bless Gina for inviting him to our party and because he knows that's something special, wishes that they'll develop their friendship into something 'more'.

They ended up getting married in 2002!
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 1:12, Reply)
during my final year of school
the head of 6th form organised a trip to italy for the year 11's, to break the ice. after the 40 hour coach trip (a party in its self), we got settled in and found a bar up the main strip of lido de jesolo called marys pub. it was your typical 'british bar' run by locals, making itself very un british. anywhos, this became our evening venue every night of the week. on our last night we went a bit mad and trashed the place...slightly, so we filled a hat with money and gave a huge tip (around £200) to cover things and make them sweet. however, one thing always stays in my mind (well 2), the first was that i dont ever remember walking from the bar to my hotel room, but it was about 20 minutes away, and the second was asking a fellow student to see her breasts. she agreed and wapped down her top. judging by her reaction, things were not good. i looked and her confused and asked..."where are your nipples?" she replied with a huff, grabbed her shoulder sacks, and lifted them up. her nipples pointed unaturally downwards, and were concealed in the fold at the bottom. i was sick, and carried on drinking my guinness and vodka chasers (i havnt drank guinness since)

excuse length, girth and all round shittyness
(, Thu 20 Apr 2006, 0:54, Reply)
Ahh the parties of yesteryear
in my *ahem* younger years I have been known to vomit into my own lap after eating lots of tortillas and smoking a bong while in a room full of strangers I had just met that night, I considered them cool and was desperately trying to impress with my hardcore smoking abilities which backfired terribly...

Also at a school party, I broke my friends nose while trying to swing her over my head in a linky-elbows trick that was a total disaster.
At the same party a boy I fancied came up to me for a snog, opened his mouth and a crane fly flew out and into my face. And again at the same party, another guy force fed himself a load of stale bread then threw it up and fed it to his dog. And I then fell asleep in the dog basket.

Another time I actually saved the day when a friend decided to microwave a lightbulb at a party, thinking it would light up in some kind of scientific way. He accidentely programmed the timer onto 10 minutes not 10 seconds and I ended up dashing across the room using a plastic tray as a shield to unplug the thing which was sparking nastily. A lesson was learnt I'm sure.
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 22:40, Reply)
and garlic bread!
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 22:32, Reply)
went to a party once, they had cream cheese
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 22:32, Reply)
Im having an 'onliune partyy' as I type with 2 friends and 3 bottles of wine and a bottle of absinhe (ive got the absinth) so HAH!

... sorry
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 21:35, Reply)
The old "I can walk around you three times without touching you" trick
One drunken night at the park I bet my friend I could walk around her three times without touching her,but if she moved, she lost, and she was like "what?...okay?" As I challenged her I surrepticiously placed her beer just out of reach.
So of course I only walked around her twice and then re-joined the crowd and continued drinking.
I thought she'd just go "okay - you won", walk over to her beer and that would be the end of it.
One and a half hours later she still hadn't moved and was whimpering and crying and trying desperately to reach her beer without moving her feet!!
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 21:28, Reply)
I went to a party once.
It was ace. Nobody knew I was there, but I got a picture of Mykeyboy in the nip, and I also got one of Benny Tied To A Tree doing a toilet.
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 21:24, Reply)
American house party
School exchange at the age of 17. We go over to Yank land hardened binge drinkers whereas they are only just thinking about fake IDs and sending the "old looking kid" to the booze shop.

We get invited on mass to this house party at which some lad passes round a box for money and starts taking orders from everyone there.

The largest of their very large (American) football players (who has already been telling me how much he can drink) then proceeds to order himself an entire 4-pack.

I after drinking an entire case of bud (only coke can sized mind you), I started on a bottle of Jack Daniels and still managed to be up and playing an informal game of rugby first thing in the morning.

That afternoon we got gathered together for a bollocking from the (American) football coach for wrecking his entire team with booze the night before.

(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 20:39, Reply)
Whole bottles of spirits...
I never seem to get angry when drunk, and god knows why considering how much I was able to drink when I was between the ages of 18 and 20. One New Years eve I managed to polish off a bottle of Laphroaig (V.expensive whisky to those not in the know) and 14 bottles of Kronenbourg in one sitting. Suprised I'm not dead really. Another incident involved a bottle of raspberry Stoliychnaya, several bottles of real ale and a spliff. I threw up in my mates field, passed out and came to lying a few meters away from someone else who had done the same.
I also ate about 15 pieces of hash fudge once, and laughed till I peed.
Injuries are commonplace. I have knocked myself out falling down a set of steps, by running full pelt into the side of a shed, and I have fractured my ankle playing rounders at night completely hammered.
Apologies for length, Girth etc. No spectacular one off tales, just a catalogue of different events where I acted like a plank.
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 20:24, Reply)
numerious house parties have occured in my lifetime. some good.
and some better. none of which lives up to this tale of horror, romance and debauchery.

One fine summers eve. leaves are green, flowers are doing what they do, and young uns are seeing each other.
namely me an this girl i knew called jem.

now me an jem had relationship issues what with her still being in love with her ex.
so me and my droogs decide to get very drunk at a kind host's kindly organised house party.

much drink, much merryment.

till i drink the drink of irate pirates. RUM!!!!!! then the mirth occurs.

beer cans start to miraculously stick to the walls with duct tape.

inside, outside and inside wardrobes.
i was off my tits.

great party, shagged my ex and watched her be sick everywhere.

length, girth are not important
its the motion of the potion
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 19:57, Reply)
We used to play Spin The Bottle
No-one wanted to kiss me. This changed after I developed boobs.
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 19:20, Reply)
14, a boy I vaguely fancied (but was not aware he fancied me until this incident) got me very, incredibly, wildly drunk on cheap cider, which in itself is surprising as I've always been a spirit drinker...

...I threw up over the entire ground floor. As I crawled through it.

...My best friend very kindly picked me up, took me to the toilet, cleaned me up and brushed my teeth with a disposable toothbrush. Then left me in a corner on a beanbag....

...Where I was woken up by earlier-mentioned boy trying to swallow my tongue. In the background played Will Smith's great opus, 'Boom Boom Shake The Room", which will forevermore be the embodiment of that crushingly embarrassing situation. Or rather, the song that makes me feel physically sick. It kind of did before anyway, I suppose.

And that was my first 'kiss with tongues', people.

Many things happened at that party, but I was the only guest who couldn't face going to school the following Monday. And I couldn't eat chewing gum for 6 months due to 'similarities'.

I did something similar when I was 19 in a house full of attractive single men and I was one of only two girls. I think the pressure gets to me in these situations...
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 17:08, Reply)
The other day
I went to a party but i was 6 hours late so only the host was still there.

He stood shouting: "YOU'RE LATE, YOU'RE LATE"
(, Wed 19 Apr 2006, 16:06, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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