sick
I went to my end of sixth form meal thinking it would be a civilised affair. Four pints of stella later I had mooned the waitress whilst stood on my chair and spent the sweet course under the table with two more pints. I then got a taxi home with the girl who we affectionately called 'community chest' and one of my best mates as they thought I was too pissed to get into a club.

When we got home the community chest took me straight to bed without passing go, and we engaged in some sexy time. Unfortunately half way through my stallion like performance, the need to hurl overtook me and I asked politely if we could disengage (by yelling 'get off quick') and proceeded to aim for my bin, in my drunken stupor I crawled around butt naked looking for my bin, eventually settling for the likeliest candidate which was in fact my video player.

Whilst retching the fine beefeater steak, my mate who had been until that point passed out had come to check if I was ok, presuming I was on my own, which led to me in between mouthfuls of barf and still with a raging stiffy (i was 18) yelling 'for the love of god don't come in here'.

He didn't, but the community chest by this point was losing interest and my attempt to remount with a sicky mouth was not entirely successful.

Three lessons learned from this. One being sick on your video player is bad as it bakes on from the warmth and has to be chipped off. Two, begging that your mate doesn't enter a room because you are ashamed he will see you shagging a fat bird means you are not going to be friends with that girl for long and three, drinking beef cup a soup the next morning is a bad idea as it exits in exactly the same state it entered in.

Apologies for width (and sick).
(badgermonkey007, Thu 7 Jan 2010, 22:28, Reply)