Wedding antics
For some reason, I can't go to a wedding without getting absolutely bladdered (apart from my own where I was sober as a judge).

The worst time was that of a collague around 11 years ago. I volunteered to drive 3 girls from the office up to a hotel in Swindon where we were staying the night.
Got there and dumped stuff in rooms, then headed for the bar. Had some time to kill until the reception so had a couple of pints to get going. Established with the bar staff that they would stay open for us when we got back.

Went to reception at a nice Country Club. Our manager from work had taken lots of lovely snaps at the wedding and reception, but left her camera on the table. About 8 pints of Lowenbrau took care of any possibility that I could consider any consequences for my actions, so the camera was duly liberated and taken to the men's toilets where colleagues created various photographic masterpieces involving hairy arseholes and bollocks. The camera was returned to the table, but the manager later found out what had happened. Apparrently she refused to get the film developed, therefore sacrificing her whole record of the couple's happy day.

The antics didn't stop there. Went back to the hotel around midnight. Most headed for the bar where we carried on with pints and then hit the tequila. 3 or so blurry hours pass by, and there's just myself and one other colleague left in the bar. The only other person is a French barman who cleans tables, puts chairs up, hoovers around us, and polishes the bar before buggering off into the kitchen. My colleague who is also slurring and giggling like a bastard, decides that we need more tequila. Before I know it, he's jumped over the bar, grabbed the tequila, and thrown it to me. Cue the barman who returns to find one pissed bloke on the wrong side of the bar, and another pissed bloke on the right side of the bar clutching the aforementioned bottle.
He starts to throw a fit in French/English at which point we apologise profusely and scuttle off to our respective rooms, watched all the way by a scowling barman. We were that close to getting thrown out, but my colleague used his best slurred smarm to weasel his way out of it.
I woke up the next morning with the mother of all hangovers. I crept out to breakfast but couldn't touch a thing. Apparently I was green. Had to get one of the girls to drive my car home.

Didn't learn my lesson and still get plastered at weddings to this day.
(Sonic promises not to spray it in her eyes next time!, Sat 16 Jul 2005, 3:58, Reply)