so anyways, I'll post the fucker here:
Amsterdam Cold Shit Shenanigans
So we're all in Amsterdam, 7 of us, having a lovely old time. 2nd evening we decide to get some mushrooms in, and are sat in a coffee shop, happily munching away, trying to avoid the mould old woman toilet attendant who demanded 50c every time you had a pee in the urinals. Piss Lady we called her.
So we're all coming up, all fairy experienced with natures mind expanders, so me and Redlad head of on a mission to find the Ladyboy with the connection. When we get back, everyone's split off into their own private adventure, so we have beautiful fun and eventually get back to the hotel, to find our pal bloodied and confused, and we get mesmerised by his little adventure...
Whilst feeling the effects of the psilocybin, our Pal (we'll call him Big Al for the purposes of this story) goes upstairs to take a slash. Next thing he knows, he waking up on the floor of said grotty pisshole, with strange faces peering down at him, including pisslady, who's talking to him in dutch, and freaking him the fuck out.
In a grip of panic and altered consciousness, our hero pulls himself back inside his trousers, and runs back to find the lads. Perhaps the bump on the head from the urinal had concussed him, perhaps our mates were just at the bar. But he couldn't find them either way, and ends up stumbling outside into the busy night. Now, this coffee shop was situated on one of the tree lined squares that are dotted pleasantly around Amsterdam, and whilst trying to find his bearings and discovering the blood pissing down his face, Big Al now realises he really needs a shit. really badly. And there's no way he can go back in and face pisslady...
so he finds a bush, and tries as hard as he might to ignore all the tourists and Dutch folks walking merrily around him. We can only imagine the sensations coursing through his consciousness at this point, as a joyous celebration of friends and love and marriage, turns into a rough arsed bushcrap in the middle of a busy city.
Get the fuck out of here, was his next idea. and so a cab is hailed, as the trousers are hastily hoisted back up, and the blood wiped around his face some more.
Where to my friend?
shit, he couldn't remember the name of the hotel, so straight on was the command.
Oh, my friend, I think perhaps you may have trodden in something?
Ooops, the bushcrap was badly aimed, and shoes and trousers are liberally covered in effluent, so with the window opened and statements to the contrary, the taxi driver begrudgingly proceeds... Are you sure? there's a bad smell in here my friend.
No, no, it's cool, I can't smell anything.
Or see anything properly either... where's that fucking card? where am I staying? Finally, with familiar landmarks creeping through the paisley haze, the card is found, the address passed onto the cab driver and the price agreed on, with healthy tip included.
Phew! back to safety. thank fuck. just get my key out...
I'll admit the details of how he got in to the hotel are hazy, as we were just creased up on the floor holding our sides at this point, listening to the worsening tales of woe, but rest assured it took about half an hour for the poor fella to sort enough shit out so that he could get into his room, shower and clean his own filth off his clothes.
It's a good story, and one which I have recounted many times, I just hope Big Al never finds out I told anyone. poor bastard :)
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 12:45, archived)
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 12:56, archived)
haha
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 12:57, archived)
Shame on you.
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 12:58, archived)
I'm one of those main board/ links board twats, who literally saw the QOTW on the front page and thought "at last I have something worth posting!!"
but I realise now I was deluded
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 13:01, archived)
Nice going, jerk
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 13:03, archived)
I'm not familiar with /talk land, just an overbearing ego with no hope of recognition
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 13:18, archived)
This is why we elected you class rep.
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 13:20, archived)
i'd bring sweeping reform, and clean fingers
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 13:36, archived)
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 13:38, archived)
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 13:44, archived)
Once it crept up his back he went up like kindling.
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 13:45, archived)
I wasn't sure, but now you've mentioned it I like it LOADS more :)
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 13:40, archived)
Yeah. Probably. Now fuck off.
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 16:00, archived)
it's nice and warm :D
(, Sat 8 Feb 2014, 11:29, archived)
I feel like I've stumbled into the Slaughtered Lamb and Brian Glovers looking daggers at me :)
(, Fri 7 Feb 2014, 18:45, archived)