"I cook the world's best duck flambé"
here
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 14:46, Reply)

Tactical Chunder
Ahh, thats better.

Now, where were we?
(LetsGetDownToIt, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 14:40, 2 replies)

I worked with a couple of lucky fucks
who were unfortunate enough to have such robust livers that they survived 20 odd years of alcohol abuse until their brains went. They dribbled from every orifice and screamed through the night in blind terror. It was super LOL.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 14:39, 2 replies)

Navigational Error
I was 17 and pissed as a fart. I woke up one my own bed needing a piss and turned left instead of right and pissed all over the carpet in my parent's bedroom!

Strangely they were not pleased....
( Vambo, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 14:36, 2 replies)

I ran over a car
After quite a few pints of Dogbolter, I found myself standing in the street while a (soberish) mate who was going the other way took our friends who lived near him home from the pub in his Metro. We locked eyes, he revved his engine and I gave him the universal signal to "bring it on". He accelerated towards me and I started running towards him. At the crucial moment I jumped, placed one foot on the bonnet and leapt over the car as it sped away beneath me, landing with perfect poise on the other side. It was fucking awesome.

I'd never have tried that shit sober, mind.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 14:31, 32 replies)

Got stuck in the sunroof of a car.
I was trying to have a poo on the windscreen and the glass gave way.
( Windy Pig I'm naturally quite suspicious about the moon., Thu 14 Feb 2013, 14:13, 2 replies)

Get pissed.
Destroy.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 14:03, 3 replies)

Churchill practised many of his speeches
whilst performing his morning toilet gargle; the acoustics pleased him.
(roysin, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 14:01, 2 replies)

...
Something,
something,
something...
CAIRO...
Something,
something,
something,
POISONOUS MONKEY
( The Great Architect is still waiting for his account to be deleted on, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 13:59, 2 replies)

I had my stomach pumped in Glasgow by a bloke who looked like Steve Wright.
But far more hilariously, my mate was killed on her way to work by a pissed prick in a van. Her husband was like totally rofl when he answered the door to the police holding their baby. LOL
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 13:55, 5 replies)

University involved many days on the sauce.
One such day saw me:
- get off with my flatmate-to-be
- harass the uni bar staff into letting me have a go on the bouncy boxing ring that they were trying to set up, in an effort to impress said flatmate-to-be
- as a consequence of the above, get repeatedly punched in the face by a perpetual stoner
- get temporarily barred from the uni bar for attempting to grope a member of security (a particularly butch lesbian)

Other such sessions saw me:
- stopping a bus so that I could take a piss through the open doors
- semi-naked wrestling whilst smeared in cider/nutella
- get off with a man (mmm, stubbly...)
- wake up in the wrong town
- vomit, everywhere
- cry

To be honest, I don't miss being a student.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 13:47, 8 replies)

STAY ABOUT FROM MY ODDBINS!

( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 13:34, 8 replies)

omg
me n my mates were out the other night at the uni bar lol an i was sooooo completely hammered right and we're a completely krazy bunch we really are and i came home with a traffic cone ... ON MY HEAD!!!!! oh lol it really was sooooo hilarious.

And then I died of alcohol poisoning and everyone was happy ever after.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 13:31, 4 replies)

I got drunk once.
Only hazy memories of what happened.

Soz.
(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 13:29, Reply)

i don't remember

( The Doveston haunted by the memory of his own amnesia, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 13:24, Reply)

One Thursday in October 2002
I had experimented with turbo-shandies. Last thing I remember was me and a mate standing on a table in a pub singing along to Bon Jovi on the juke box. I woke up the next morning with a big cut and graze on my forehead. Went around to his to ask what had happened and he didn't remember either, so we had to find someone who had been sober enough to remember.

Turned out that on the way home, he'd climbed into a half empty skip and challenged me to a fight. As I climbed in after him, he'd clouted me around the head with a weighty piece of timber and I'd gone right over head first onto the pavement.

Luckily, we don't drink turbo shandies anymore.

The same evening, I'd been sick off a bridge and peed in the bath, but somehow, despite all of that and the bleeding, I'd still managed to pull a girl who was staying over when I got back to the house.

I miss being a student.
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 13:02, 12 replies)

Chap in my street
Well, his deepest wish came true two or three weeks ago.
I've only been in the neighbourhood three years - all sorts of characters with all sorts of sad stories - unemployed/ unemployable, wasted souls.

They say he was fifty something when he died. His daily routine, and by the looks of it for quite some time, was to stagger to the corner shop for his rot-gut and stagger back home. If we passed each other he would form phrases which, if written down, would probably make clear sense and provoke a reply, but came out as angry gibberish.

In the last two years of his existence he was on crutches. The shuffle from shack to shop and back (about 80 metres) could take a half an hour.

Totally harmless, inoffensive guy, except for the time he decided to nap in the middle of the road. Drunks are heavy.

As suicides go, alcohol is the most depressing, probably because it just, well, dehumanises.
(roysin, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 12:58, Reply)

Engaged
The worst thing I did when drunk was get engaged. The then misses wanted to go to the cinema after I had spent a day at the races. SO I switched off my phone and hit the bars.
I needed a lift home so switched the phone back on and she came and picked me up. She was a rather annoyed and I was rather drunk so I proposed as a way of getting out of a bollocking.
It worked!
We split up 6 months later as she wanted to get married and I wanted to wait until we bought a house.
(BiggestNizzy your company name here pm for rates., Thu 14 Feb 2013, 12:56, 2 replies)

I once got so pissed up
that I tripped over some bins I was staying about from. Boy was my face red!
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 12:55, 1 reply)

K Cider
To this day my dentist still asks ... have you been drinking too many fizzy drinks?

Length? 20+ years - and now it is G&Ts
(Biff..., Thu 14 Feb 2013, 12:33, 2 replies)

Posh voices on kids are horrible.
Particularly when they're on 18 year olds describing how drunk they were previously.

However beautiful she was, when she said she'd got completely hat-racked the other night, I was forced to abandon my plan to sleep with her.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 12:12, 4 replies)

Time and Relativity
Walking through sunny Bognor one morning, a pile of rags in a corner resolved itself into a shambling, hunched man with eyes like festering sores on a badger's arse.

He addressed us, and made an enquiry as to when the pub on the corner might open. About 11 o'clock, we told him.

"Right. And how long is that?" he asked.

"Er, about 20 minutes."

His face dropped, crestfallen. "Oh, that's a long time!" he groaned, as if 20 minutes of sobriety was a burden of soul-crippling magnitude.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 12:11, 2 replies)

Sicks

(Mr Twisty Cheeky The worst kept secret in B3ta..., Thu 14 Feb 2013, 12:11, Reply)

I'm even LOVELIER when I'm drunk.

( stuj (^(^;;^)^) GO TEAM SPIDERS!(^(^;;^)^), Thu 14 Feb 2013, 12:07, 7 replies)

Fist

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 11:59, Reply)

Slurred

( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 11:59, Reply)

Shecond

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 11:58, Reply)

Stereotypical Brit Abroad
When I was a younger chap (21 maybe?), my friends and I decided that it would be a superb idea to book ourselves on a gentleman's holiday to the magnificent resort of Malia. We drove our Honda Accords to to the travel agents to make the arrangements before doing MASSIVE DRUGS LOL.

Skip forward a few months and myself and four friends are in a bar on the main strip in Malia drinking cheap sugary drinks from a variety of novelty receptacles. As the night progressed I lost the ability to form actual words but managed to get the attention of a young lady through a series of grunts and provocative dance moves. I have no idea how it happened but the next thing that I knew I was walking with her back to her hotel.

After what seemed like miles we arrived only to be greeted by the hotel security telling us that under no circumstances was I going to be allowed to enter his establishment to plough this fine lady as I wasn't a paying guest and I was thoroughly intoxicated. As you can imagine this news didn't please me much. My grunts and provocative dance moves didn't have the same effect on the security as they did on my companion so we walked away from the entrance to discuss our options. My hotel was miles away and I was sharing a room with friends so that was out of the question so we decided that the best way for me to gain entry was to sneak in through the hedge while she was distracting the security.

After walking through a very muddy field I found a gap in the hedge which I attempted to slip through unnoticed. Obviously my current level of intoxication meant that I was far less subtle than I imagined and another member of the hotel security spotted me. He shouted something into his radio and I took off back across the field and down the road. In the distance I heard the sound of small engines firing up and I knew that I wasn't going to be able to outrun them on their chav quads. I jumped over a low wall and crossed my fingers that they wouldn't see me. Sure enough I heard they fly past at which point a light bulb appeared above my head. If they are chasing me down the road, nobody is guarding the front of the hotel!

I proudly strode up to the gates, walked straight in and quickly found the room of my beloved for the evening. After what was probably a very inadequate amount of foreplay we were both in our birthday suits ready to make the beast with two backs.

A knock at the door and much shouting quickly scared the living bejesus out of me so I collected my clothes and climbed into the wardrobe. Luckily after a few sharp words, the security dispersed and we were left to make disappointingly quick and unsatisfying love.

The next morning I awoke and immediately speculated how I was going to get out of the hotel without being beaten up by security so I decided that a surprise exit was in order. I bid farewell to my conquest and sprinted out of the hotel. I will never forget the look of surprise on the security guards face as I ran hell for leather out of the front gate. As soon as I got to the place where I had hid the night before I jumped over the wall and waited for the impending sound of quads to zip past me. Not knowing how long they would search for me I waited for them to return before strolling back to my hotel for a kip.

I'm never normally a quick thinker especially when drunk so this ranks as one of my proudest drunken moments.

tl;dr drunkenly outsmarted Greek hotel security guards in order to get laid.
(CasuallyObscene, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 11:57, 4 replies)