Went out with some friends last night
I knew it was likely to end badly when Karen turned up. Lovely girl until she has a drink, and I do mean ONE drink. She could probably fill half of this QOTW with stories, if she could remember them. It'd be like a drunk (and much, much funnier) version of Vagabond's dog.

Anyway, the bars were fine, plenty of raucous laughter and lewd innuendo, as you'd expect. I was planning to knock it on the head at this point and get home early enough to be able to make a go of Valentine's the next morning. Karen put an end to that. Lots of jokes about being under the thumb + courage in the face of one-upmanship drinking games = idiotic, bullheaded bravado and a determination to shake my, ahem, funky thang on the dancefloor.

You don't need to know what happened in the club. Anyway, I don't remember. When I got home though, that's another matter. I figured - idiotically - that I'd get the romance going early, as soon as I staggered through the front door, in fact.

It didn't go well.

Cunt shot me four times and I died.



PULLING YOUR LEG etc etc
(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 17:19, 3 replies)

Tell me more about the dog.

( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 17:36, closed)

I haven't got a dog.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 17:48, closed)

Are you familiar with the fabled tale of The Funny Michael McIntyre joke?
A legendary, mythical notion talked of at great length by tedious cunts, never proven to exist?

It's a bit like that.
(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Thu 14 Feb 2013, 17:48, closed)