Funny you should ask...
I'm about to have one this Monday night.

Anyways, i hosted one at around Halloween time last year, just close friends you understand.

We managed to get hold of a rather large amount of Tennents and my mate had nicked this Lithuanian stuff called Bitters from his old man which was incredibly strong and tasted like rocket fuel.

Later in the night when much beerage had been drank, the friend with the rocket fuel has the great idea of rolling a few bifters from your ordinary household herbs. Not a good idea in any circumstances. A particularly memorable combination was shite-loads of curry powder and cinnamon. Fucking rank.

The whole thing seemed to particularly get to the roller, with him barfing for a good 10 minutes with me standing behind him larfing my tits off!

Hahahahhaha, length, girth.........up your arse

VFM


Edit:Poster1 or whatever it is, you are indeed a spanner
(Viscous Fridge Magnet Used To Be A Cha-Cha, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 23:24, Reply)

My last parties.
I am a teenager, so these are real life answers to your question!
Friday: Got drunk. Threw up in some guy's flower bed. Drank Jack Daniels out of a bowl. Pulled a *very* fit lass. Nothing special, I just wanted to boast :D
Saturday: In Germany. Got very, very drunk. Got led on by some lass who I had a big crush on for about a year. Got rejected quite nastily. Got even drunker. Ended up trying to convert two German goths to Catholicism and fell asleep on some random. Apparantly at one point I was to be seen lying in some corner with yet another random going 'Eike ist mein Freund. Er ist toll.' and with the random going 'Giles ist mein Freund. Er ist genial.' Good, albeit depressing, times.
Tuesday (Germany): Worst party ever. Crap booze, about two lasses (neither fit) and no craic at all.

Anyway, nothing fascinating there. Just thought I'd have a wee boast and stroke my ego online. As always...

If there's any complaints about length, I've never heard them.
(The Mysterious ., Thu 13 Apr 2006, 23:10, Reply)

New Year
New Year this year, very dull party (they bring out the worst in me), sitting round watching some shitty spanish football review program on Sky Sports. Decided making a concerted effort to finish the litre of Vodka (which was supposed to last me all night) in as fast a time as possible would be more fun.

Cue me knocking over my mates xmas tree before blaming it on one of my best mates. Asked to leave after this I decided to take a piss on the hosts lawn. Another friend tries to get me to move along, cue turning round and pissing all over the base of his trousers and shoes.

Woke up in my own bed in the morning with marker pen all over my face and no recollection of the rest of the night whatsoever. Happy New Year indeed.
(himseelf, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 23:09, Reply)

Ruby Murry
It was New Years eve and we are all at a mates house seeing in the New Year, one of the group a bit worse for the drink decides to order a nice curry, after a while it is delivered and Mr pisshead starts to tuck into his pre midnight curry while sitting on the new cream sofa (you can guess what comes next). He just looked down as the nice bright red Indian meal slipped from his hands and covers the seat.
We saw in the New year by cleaning the sofa, we did a fantastic job as well. You couldn't tell that anything had touched it....

Untill the next morning when a orange glow to beat David Dickinson was the most obvious thing on the sofa.

(The next year was seen in trying to replace a patio door but that's another story)
( Terry Oblong There's nobody here but us chickens on, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 22:31, Reply)

Poor Sod
Greg's parties were always eventful - someone crying, someone having sex with someone they shouldn't, and copious amounts of drink.

It was new year, I was about 16, and we'd started off on the Stella before gradually moving to the vodka and Bacardi (all provided my Greg's kind parents). My boyfriend of the time wasn't a much of a drinker, but decided to let rip and consume loads, seemingly unaware of how many people he groped, dribbled on and talked utter shit to. It came to countdown time,and we were all so carried away we forgot about the poor sod until 3, 2, 1, Bleeeeeerrrrrrggghhhhhhh!!!! With excellent timing, he threw up right on the bongs of big ben. Someone prodded me and said "Eerrr, I think you'd better see to your boyfriend, he's not well." I look over to see him leaning over a huge, steaming pile of extremely sour-smelling vom. Even in his drunken state, he had thoughtfully managed to aim the sick in an empty pizza box on the floor.

We folded it up, and ran over to the park at the end of Greg's estate in order to chuck it over the fence into the canal. I lobbed it too far, and out of the darkness came a manly shriek of horror, followed by an 'Oh my Goooodddd!!!"

We legged it, wondering if ever there could be a worse start to the year than being attacked by flying vomit.
(Funty, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 22:17, Reply)

Not really a party but...
In my teenage years if I wanted to get mullered I had to stay at a friends house since my mother nearly handed me over to social services if I came in drunk. Friday evening, my mate Ian asks me if I want to stay, I ring my mam and she gives me the okay so off I tootle to buy drink and drugs. Now, at this time I had developed a liking for Brown Ale and dope but had never mixed the two and since I wouldn't have to face my mam I decided tonight was the night to really get fucked.

After 6 bottles of Brown Ale and started to make myself some buckets. After four buckets I decided to go back to my mates house. When I got to my mates house I decided I felt sick....really sick. I dashed past his parents to the toilet, closed the door and sprayed the wall, sink and carpet in vom. In my drunken state I tried to clean it up but decided I was too pissed to do it properly so I went to get my mate to do it.

Me - Ian, i've been sick in your toilet
Ian - No Problem, just aslong as you flushed....
Me - No, no, no. I've been sick in your toilet

A look of dread spread over his face as he realised what he meant and dashed over to clean the mess up.

While he was scrubbing away I was sitting with another mate of mine chatting when that feeling came over me again. This time I couldn't run to the toilet so I put my head inbetween my legs and was sick onto the sleeping bag I was sitting on. Ian came back in the room...

Me - I've been sick again
Ian - For fucks sake!

He cleaned it up again, I passed out and woke up at 4 in the morning with a god awful hangover. I totally deserved it but I had to feel a little smug when his parents blamed the smell of sick on his older brother who had also came in ratted that night and was sick in his bed. Result.
(Peter Sutcliffe's Right Bollock, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 22:06, Reply)

The best wakeup for drunken people?
Friend wakes up after a house party, obviously the best thing to do on a hungover morning is to listen to Slayer with the volume turned up to try and make yourself forget the hangover.

Surprisingly not taken too well by the other hungover people still trying to sleep

Repeated at his house after another party by a Sober me and him with Nine Inch Nails, it was his house, he could do as he liked :-D

David
(442, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 21:54, Reply)

Revenge
Friend has a party, all the usual nonsense but comes off well enough, apart from someone apparently puking right outside his front door.

He decided to scoop it up into one of those airtight freezer bags, put it in the freezer and give it back to her later.

David
(442, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 21:52, Reply)

Stair surfing
Halloween, fancy dress party at a friends house. always amusing. My friend had decided to come dressed as a surfer dude - shorts, hawian shirt, boogie board under arm.

Cue halfway through the night us working out we could surf down the stairs on it, woo.

Until Steven decided to have a shot, board got stuck halfway down stairs anc cataputed him the rest of the way, straight into the wall at the bottom.
One broken arm, as found out later on, after he had sat in pain for a while then gone home early, to be promptly taken to casualty

David
(442, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 21:50, Reply)

Sprint drinking
We were regulars at our local for a good few months so were lucky enough to be invited to the landlord's Christmas Eve bash. I'd become something of a connoisseur at this point in my life and decided that cherry brandy was the drink of kings. Mixed with coke it's quite easy to knock back and before I knew it I'd downed about a dozen. Amazingly not pissed though I switched to straight brandy and despite being told all my teenage years never to mix my drinks I moistened my tonsils with Southern Comfort, Vodka and Jack Daniels. In an awesome display of sobriety I was holding my own and still able to talk this rather attractive lady into giving me her phone number. I don't know what happened next though; she must have traded places for her friend because I was approached by a bouncer for flirting with his pregnant fiancé. I talked my way out of getting a hiding and he gave me the rest of his drink while he went to eject some ruffians.
The rest is a blur and to this day I claim the "half a lager and lime" he left me with was spiked to fuck and back. After downing it, according to my mate I disappeared to the toilet to vomit non-stop until he got worried and came to find me. I was literally on my knees moaning at the bowl about how I should be left to die right there. He'd been necking quite a few shandies too but we came to the decision that we'd drunk more than enough and it'd be best to head home. I looked at the clock above the bar and it shamefully read 9:00pm. We'd been drinking a grand total of an hour and a half.
I woke up in bed with no memory of leaving the party, couldn't find my shoes.
My friend wasn't so lucky. After he got home and fell into bed he was sick in his sleep and nearly died.
We got a round of applause New Years Eve when we walked back into the pub, absolutely no idea why, I thought I pretty well behaved.
(Suddenly, zebras Safe and sound for eternity, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 21:32, Reply)

Party for sale
It was the most anticipated social event in my street. It was better than old man Pearson's 'shouting at trees' party (the bugger always rigged the judging so he won 1st, 2cnd and 3rd best shouter as well as the honourable mention and cheekiest stance awards.)

I invited all my homies round. Dino The Last Dinosaur was there, so was Captain Planet and making a guest appearance was Jimbo from Jimbo and the Jetset. There were health and safety worries about having an aircraft make a personal appearance at a teenagers party but those were overcame by letting various members of the local council jizz on my dungarees.

The guests had a marvellous time. There was Tizer on offer as well as the popular party games: pin the tail on the spastic, blind man's spastic, hide and spastic, pass the spastic and the ever popular musical spastics.

It all came to a tragic end however when at 9 o clock my parents came back and told me they wished they'd never adopted me and I cried blood. Real blood! Crikey!
(Andrew Avetoom, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 21:30, Reply)

Mr. 1 poster...
Your damn near impossible-to-read post made my brain let in the mad kittens that nibble at my sanity. Shame on you! I *need* my sanity!

Oh, I should post a story... I don't have one. All the parties I go to are with my circle of close friends, and it's all rather tame.

...Though I am reliably informed, and I quote, I "humped Jon's leg", Jon being the extremely cute and rather suave young thing that I had only been introduced to that night.

Oops.
( Bats, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 21:26, Reply)

My highschool friends
despite being a nice bunch of folks, were not very aesthetically pleasing, and being "The Rockers" of our year this made them all (almost without exception) cripplingly awkward with ther ladies. For some reason though I did ok with girls, so most teenage parties I went to involved me sneaking off somewhere dark/quiet with a lass, and them trying to find me and ruin the moment.

The first time I remember I sneaked off into this huge garden attached to the house where the party was going on. Mid-coitus I hear a noise and turn my head to see the ENTIRE party watching us. From her angle she didn't realise so I winked and continued.

Other than that I was hit in the head with eggs, multiple buckets of water and had a clothes peg attached to my arse, all at fairly "intimate" moments of my formative years.

They may have been ugly but I think they left me as the one that's not so well-adjusted :(

And if any of you are reading, The Wildhearts were, and always will be, utter utter shit.
(FiftyFour, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 20:53, Reply)

For my first and last party
I had it all planned for a week or more beforehand, I had borrowed the £200 speakers off my friend Dave, I had collected £100 for booze that would be available at my actual house but told most people to bring their own..

The party began about 7 with about 20 people there, by 9 that number had doubled and by this time everyone was a little bit intoxicated, this is where things started to go a little crazy. The lampshade from the self constructed "dance room" was ripped down and subsequently worn as a hat. My bin which was half-arsedly used to put some of the bottles in was thrown outof the back window into my garden. Floorboards went missing. The banisters were coming away from the stairs.

A girl got to the party and immediately passed out and slept in a room by herself for 4 hours missing most of the party. In the morning her knickers were missing.

In the bathroom, a chunk of enamel was missing from the sink and a girl was passed out in the bath... with a colander on her head.

In my bedroom i didn't want anyone going in so i just had a couple of friends in there talking, and if anyone tried to come in they would yell "WE'RE HAVING SEX!".. most people left pretty quickly.

Upstairs someone decided to throw everything out of one of the rooms into the garden. Instead of manually going into the garden and bring stuff up.. i got one of my friends to stand in the garden and throw it all back up neighbours watching would have been amazed to see chairs, planks of wood and a buddha statue flying up to the top floor window with a hardly sober guy catching.

There were footprints on the tables from the dancing.. i was leaning against the wall with some girl, and she left and another girl took her place.. apparently i didnt even notice.

The kitchen floor changed colour from all the spillages, just walking in there would cause you to fall straight on your ass.

Crazy times, apologies for the (incredibly long) length
(Black sky No accidents since, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 20:53, Reply)

21, but i pretend to be peter pan
my mate's 21st party was held the weekend of my birthday and two months after hers. made sense somehow.

nothing of any particular interest occurred until the party died and people starting trying to find places to sleep. i was one of the last to nab a spot, and ended up having to share with a mate of the host's. unbeknown to me, a female nymphomaniac mate of the host's.

so there we are, sharing a space on the floor and a blanket, when she starts spooning me. i gulped slightly. she then announced how fantastic her breasts were, grabbed my hand and made me sample their delights whilst further proclaiming "and i'm fucking horny". "er... yes, they are, but i'm gay".

now you think it'd stop there, no? no. "oh... *disappointment* well... i suppose it doesn't really matter." "yes it fucking does!"

fortunately she passed out at this point.

anyone else got a story of mistaken sexuality and/or the fear of rape?
(bakerloo.boy, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 20:33, Reply)

Ooo Another
I was in Germany on an Exchange trip (how posh am I) and I was with my exchange partner who was 14, but looked about 18 so her got us some drink.

I was 12 - and 3 cans later, I'm mullered....

I had to call in sick the next day as I was ill (cue the first of many hangovers - one of which I'm suffering from today). All my mates knew and the teachers suspected but couldn't prove is as we all closed ranks.... well, for about 2 days anyway.

/sing Hey Jo, where you going with that - what is that in your hand ??? ;-)

.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 20:25, Reply)

When I was in the next to last year at school
we arranged a school dance. I helped choose the theme, design the posters and did most of the artwork and then my Jehovah's Witness parents decided I was not allowed to go, so I sneaked out. That was the school dance that the police turned up to looking for a runaway.

The following year my parents allowed me to go. I left home wearing a knee length dress, knee length boots and a long black waistcoat but underneath I had on black hot pants and matching bra top. On the walk up to school I stashed the dress in a hedge and sauntered in to the school hall and nobody recognised me. I was soon persuaded to ditch the waistcoat too and had a great night.

A year later I was invited to a party with some ex schoolmates to make up the numbers, only to and casually leave hand in hand with the host to take a walk through the cornfield. There we made a rather large flattened circle before returning to the party and acting as if nothing had happened while people removed stray stalks from our clothing.

Happy days
(whiskas loved by 8 out of 10 cats, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 20:24, Reply)

17th Birthday
Last Saturday was my 17th and I had my mates round to my place for a party. Things went well and everyone got suitably cheery and drunk, some more than others though.

My good friend Georgina downed half a litre of Vodka in a flash and spent the rest of the evening talking to a pair of ornamental elephants my parents had brought back from Thailand.

Seemed harmless enough till I went up to bed, only to find the very tipsy Gina tucking the wooden elephants into bed and wishing them a good night before collapsing.

Georgina is not allowed to drink unsupervised in future, for the sake of all my family's ornaments, they might get jealous.
( Chickenhawk is no longer Arkwright., Thu 13 Apr 2006, 20:21, Reply)

not quite teenage
as it was my 21st, but everyone else was.

anyway, heart were broken, affairs were had, and one of my best mates got pregnant.

a bird, obviously.
( Snorty McBumhole YouTube.com/MinistryOfGeeks, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 20:17, Reply)

Southern comfort
Not a party story per se.

My ex from many a moon back who will not remain nameless - Dawn S (I can't put your surname - I just can't) - she was of the light fingered variety let's say.

Anyway, she decided that we should have our own private party with the bottle of Southern Comfort first....

Call me a wimp, but nothing good ever comes of drinking a whole bottle of southern comfort. Ever. I was sick, violently so - and the party didn't happen.

I get home after a calamity filled bus ride home and my Mum wasn not amused....

On the plus side - my sister got the blame for letting her little brother get into such a state.

Length - Width - She still loves it....
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 20:17, Reply)

Thankyou Kelly
Thankyou Kelly (I'm sure you post on here) for having the worlds most understanding\ insane parents and letting us hold parties through our teenage years despite the damage:
The next door neighbour was walking his bloody huge german shepard past the bottom of the garden when a happy party goer decided to piss on it, even with an audience.
The kitchen floor was ruined by two people deciding to sit on the same chair (think chairleg through floor)
The pringle incident (two years of trying to remove pringles from the soft furnishings can't be fun)
The nintendo in a tree.
The cupboard doors getting stolen.
The incident with the police.
Spitting on your neigbour (she shouldn't have been sunbathing where I was trying to spit)
The vomitting.
And probably lots of other stuff but I can't remember it.
Mike
(lankymike, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 20:12, Reply)

Not a party per se
I was at college, all of 17 and we were going out in Grantham (Oh the shame).....

A load of the lads on my course decided that we should have some cider beforehand - It was Lee's idea (Lee was his name and I'll not say his surname here - Guff) - all the best ideas do NOT begin with "let's have some cider".

Anyhoo, I have a litre bottle of the stuff that tasted like rancid racoon piss and we head off to some bars and then onto the dodgiest club in the history of dodgy clubs (and I've been to a few).

After a bit, I decided to smoke - now I don't usually smoke, but Lee had some rollups "Ok", I think, I can do that.... Now cigs tend to make me hyper and make my drunken state about 10 times drunker - never a good thing.

About half an hour later, I'm making my offering to the porcelain god and I'm very, very unwell. I get into my friend's car and puke down the side of it (I only just managed to open the window) - he wasn't amused as it was his pride and joy (A F***ing fiesta!)

I get home at n o'clock (no idea to this very day) and I'm still being ill.

It took me 2 days to recover from that and I still can't even smell cider without needing to vomit - even after 14 years.

As an addendum - it turns out the cider was more vodka, gin and a dash of cider.
As another addendum - it wasn't a cig, it was a spliff.

I wasn't amused.....

Length? I know someone that likes a bit of James a LOT :o)
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 20:12, Reply)

Legendary.
We were in the first year of 6th form. This guy, lets call him Andy, was having a quiet get together at his house for a few mates as his rents were away for the weekend and had said it was allowed. No one really even knew who he was, so there was no danger of it getting out of control.

Well, until his so called "mates" decided to photo copy a few hundred maps to his house (with directions helpfully highlighted underneath)and hand them out to everyone in 6th form, as well as posting them up around school and using word of mouth. Everyone was talking about it as his house was on the massive estate in town so there was easy acess for all. We turned up at about 9 and the party was already in full swing. All the chavs who'd left after their GCSEs had turned up, literally everyone in 6th form was there, it was a lovely reunion and the atmosphere was pretty mellow. Then the drink kicked in, resulting in the following:

-Several chavs falling in his pond, some even continuing a fight in it which was quite impressive.

-Somehow some people managing to break into his garage where Andy had hidden all the breakable and/or expensive things in his house, which resulted in a very extensve collection of expenisve minature brandys, whiskys etc being completely obliterated.

-Most of the chairs etc in his house getting broken up to be used in fights or just for general entertainment.
-Some guy drinking so much that he went unconscious, so we had to call an ambulance, he nearly died, that was also quite exciting.

- A few police cars that had been called by neighbours complaining about the noise turning up with the ambulances- the house was stormed (yeh, actually stormed, it was very exciting) by said police, who then searched everyone for drugs (bad luck chavs) and took away several people, they also then kicked anyone under the influence - that would be everyone then - out of the house. Leaving a hundred or so drunken teenagers standing outside in an estate. where the party just continued until the police got called again. They just kept coming back all night, top marks for endurance. At about 3am they had actually got rid of most people, and the rest of us stayed to help tidy up. We'd just cleared all the bottles out of the garden etc when... his parents turned up. They'd been woken up by a neighbour calling them about the party and had driven home from their weekend away to sort the mess out. I don't think they gave him too hard a time tho, but you could hear the shouting from the other side of the estate.

The best bit? Monday morning, all of yr 12 sitting in the common room for assembly, Andy walks in late - and he gets a standing ovation from the whole year that lasts several minutes. I think even some of the teachers joined in. Best. Party. Ever.

Its my first time, be gentle with me.
(ma moto, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 19:55, Reply)

Burford barman at 15
In those days i was a complete and utter twat, nearest I ever got to one anyway.
Highlights include:
bribing a sister of my friend, Paula (alky and fags)to pretend to be going out with me to go to a party, then watching in horror as she snogged EVERYONE ELSE at he party but me.

Getting so wrecked on Cinzano (vermouth and the other one, you know the one that looks the same going in as coming out) that I ended up on the roof (climbing the drainpipe) hanging by my legs from the gutter trying to see my friend lynn having a slash in the loo, yes I was that desperate. I think I threw a bottle at the coppers who turned up to check out the burglar/disturbance.

Being fortunate enough in having a friend (Hendy) whos parents owned one of the biggest houses in the area and went on holiday, allowing him to hold a "Disco", otherwise known as a teenage drink frenzy and shagathon in the garage, pool and house. It was "bring your own" drinks with limited stocks laid in as a backup. Remember we had pocket money in those days and had to blag like crazy to get older people to buy us alcohol. For some unknown reason I was asked to be barman (this is in my punk days)and pretty soon (about 3 hours into the orgy of teenage angst) the most popular drinks had run out, and EVERYONE kept asking me for plastic pint glasses of "fookin bitter, eh".
Queue me totally losing it (I was also on massive amounts of speed and any drink available)and shouting (about three inches from their chin ... i'm short) "WE HAVEN'T GOT ANY FOOKIN BITTER! WE'VE ONLY GOT LEMONADE! HERE, HAVE A PINT.. NO HAVE A BOTTLE! , No Have TWO, THERE'S PLENTY OF IT!!. After a while I just started throwin huge plastic bottles of Lemonade at anyone who walked anywhere near the bar, while pogoing and shouting "Fook Off You fookin bastid FOOKERS". Tearing apart packets of crisps and nuts and throwing them at anyone I felt like. I had issues.

Funnily enough everyone though it was so bloody hilarious they kept asking me to do it at EVERY party anyone held in the area.
(cargo, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 19:54, Reply)

First time hammered on spirits
I was about 15 and going through a phase where I thought KoRn were the answer to life's questions, so to speak. My best friend was an unbelievably spoiled rich kid whose parents chose to throw money at their problem rather than actually spend any time with him. This meant he had his own "wing" of their house that included a fair number of rooms and allowed house parties to happen without the other wings even getting awoken.

The night was a big one with plenty of people coming along to take advantage of somewhere to drink as a teen. A handful of us decided to get a head start before the masses arrived.

Fun Lovin' Criminals were popular at the time and with bottles of JD, decks of cards and a round table, we thought we were possibly the coolest group of people in the entire world.

Nobody knew that many card games so we stuck to pontoon since it only took about 5 minutes to explain the rules and about half of us already knew the game anyway. The penalty for winning was to knock back a shot (which probably measured bigger than a shot as we had no shot glasses and were just guessing). The problem with this system is that pontoon is a pretty quick game, and you're knocking back more than one shot a minute on average.

It didn't take long before people were getting cocky thinking they had such high tolerance for alcohol having drunk god knows how many shots and not actually feeling too bad. This was definitely the feeling I was getting anyway.

After a little while, we didn't want to peak too soon so we quit the cards and just sat round the table chatting. At this point, of course, I decided I wanted to listen to Korn very loudly and bounce on the tramopoline. I guess I was in one of those drunken states where it was easier to just say yes to me and ignore me than to actually try to rationalise anything I was doing since within about five minutes, I was bouncing on the tramopoline shouting "why don't you get the fuck out of my face" in my own little room.

After a little while of this, it dawned on me that I was feeling quite drunk, but not in the way I was used to (none of the slow burn of lager / whatever alcopops I'd tried up to that point) so thought rather than spewing up too early, I'd have a little lie down on the sofa in the main party room to sort my head out.

The moment I lay down and closed my eyes, I realised that the world was spinning so violently fast that I had no option but to vomit everywhere in an effort to slow it down the only way I knew how. After the first wave (leaving a small lake on the axminster), I crawled towards the bathroom which was but metres away.

Along the way I vomited a few more times, and before I could actually reach the bowl, I passed out in a pile of my own vomit halfway between the door and the toilet.

That was the end of my night, but not of everyone elses. It wasn't long after this that one of my other mates who was in a similar predicament had made a beeline straight to the bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach. As he darted round the corner of the bathroom door he tripped over my moist corpse and vomitted all over my head. Alllll over my head. So much vomit.

Apparently the party went on regardless with the pair of us left there, me in my own sick and him on top of me having a nice little sick every now and again so the old lot didn't dry out in my ear drums.

The next morning I woke up in the exact position I fell asleep in, feeling like absolute shit, working in bullet time as I worked out what the fuck was going on.

"Shit I feel bad, oh man what am I doing here? What's that weight, oh fuck, get off me man. Shit, the vomit. Oh fuck. Oh fuck! Oh fuck. fuck."

Instantly into the bath, pouring whatever cleaning products I could find to get the cocktail of barf off me. It was everywhere. My hair was matted, my ears were clogged, my face was crusty, my top was ruined, I was a fucking mess.


Strangely, despite not speaking to me for a while, my mate actually seemed to sort of forgive me and these parties continued. It wasn't until I broke his door that he finally snapped and there were no more parties at his wing for me.
( ma0sm, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 19:54, Reply)

Ahead of our time
I loved to go to all the parties equipt with my mother's Polaroid camera. I would arrive hours after the party had started when everyone was finally getting loaded and then click away. Some of my friends, who awaited for my arrival would help me talk drunk friends into doing some of the most sickening things either to themselves or to someone else in the same condition.

The next day at school the pictures would show up infront of as many students as we could find. The advantage to attending a small highschool meant everyone would soon find out about the photos. Once in a while I could sneak my way into the teachers lounge where a copy machine was located and many copies of the photos would find there way in as many publuc places as possible. My favorite picture was taken when two girls who hated each other when they were sober were talked into making out. When they saw the photos back at school the next week they thought we had doctored the pictures. Remember this was back in teh 1970s long before Photoshop, long before home computers for that matter.
(NocturnalJohn, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 19:45, Reply)

Drunkard Inventions
Some mates of mine had a house warming party when they started at Uni a few years ago. This soon changed to a street party since a few of the other houses had planned their parties for the same night, and the houses between them had decided to join in so as not to look like losers. It was the biggest party of the year, and to this date has never been superceded. It was summer, and a warm night so the majority of drinking was done outside. Anyway, fuelled on alcohol and a complete lack of a sense of danger, we got a little bit too inventive.

I'd just seen a program on how UFO's are meant to work and how if you coil a load of copper wire, and plug it into the mains it'll lift off and float in the air. While I thought that the majority of the program was bollocks, I found this to be quite cool and decided to share this little piece of knowledge with the street. Cue a street wide debate on whether it would actually work, and everyone who didnt think it would shouting "Go on then, prove it!"

This sounded like a good idea to me, since I hate it when people say I'm wrong. An extension cord, and half an hour later led to the experiment being ready. Sure enough, it worked. Mission accomplished. Id proven them wrong, and at the same time looked cool. And thats when, looking back, we should have stopped. However...

Three hours later and far too much money spent collectively at the local B+Q had led to every house door on the street wide open with a large extension lead coming out of every single one of them. The insulation had been stripped from the wire and the resultant bare copper had been wrapped around a car parked in the middle of the road until there was a large tightly coiled copper bumper around it. Thats right, we had drunkenly attempted to create a flying car.

So finally it was ready. It had got dark, so people in the houses nearest shone two 1000 watt torches from the bathroom windows lighting the car up for everyone to see in a spotlight. There were people ready to turn the power on in every house, and the entire local population gathered around the car to see it take off. The countdown started. 5...4...3...the anticipation was excruciating...2...1...CLICK!

The copper started to glow bright orange as it got hotter and hotter and then... a large fire took the place of where the car once stood, and the street, plus the entire surrounding area was put into a total black out which was to last for the following two weeks. Bugger!
( Furness, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 19:39, Reply)