Worst Dates

[Jattdogg]

4 hours ago, HappyHamza said:

About 4 or 5 years ago, in my mind thirties, I met a girl in her mid twenties from tinterweb. Took her to a decent pub out Swithland/woodhouse way where she proceeded to loudly tell me that she was married but get husband had buggered off one week before, during which time her children had been taken into care. Honestly this is true.  She carried on to tell me about her husband's tattooed penis (if he's on here - soz). Was pretty memorable. Still shagged her, obvs.

 

In fact what made this a bit better was that a couple of days later I thought she was texting me but it turned out to be her 21yo mate who I ended up getting to grips with too. Not a bad week all in all.

That's a lad! Too many softies running away from free booty calls. Nobody said you had to marrry any of them. Just shag it!

[Grebfromgrebland]

5 hours ago, Jattdogg said:

That's a lad! Too many softies running away from free booty calls. Nobody said you had to marrry any of them. Just shag it!

Obviously this doesn't apply to your daughters or sisters.....

[Wrighty22]

Wouldn’t really say it was a bad date because it involved some of the dirtiest sex I’ve had. Was chatting to a girl from tinder, spoke for a couple of weeks, shared photos, the usual. It all seemed to good to be true but when I turned up she opened the door and was a good 3/4 stone heavier than her photos suggested, no where near as pretty and a few teeth missing. I’d put far too much time into this to just walk away so just manned up and did what had to be done. Moral of the story, be very wary of how girls nowadays take photos, they get all the angles right to make them look thinner / better! 

[Jattdogg]

6 hours ago, Grebfromgrebland said:

Obviously this doesn't apply to your daughters or sisters.....

Never, double standards exist sheesh

 

Its all friendly banter really

[HappyHamza]

I had another amusing one I guess though without the 'happy ending'...

 

Went on a date with a girl from rugby about 18 months ago.  Went ok but just ok. After the date things ramped up and she was sending all sorts of filthy pics and vids. Then she told me she was really after a threesome. 'Awesome' I thought. But she'd already picked the other party - her male bi-sexual friend.

 

Now I have no issue with anybody's sexuality whatsoever....live and let live....but that wasn't my bag! 

 

Didn't see her again.

[Vacamion]

 

There was a previous thread for bad dates, in which I posted this story a few years ago, and which I can’t now find, so for those of you who are newer here, here is a bad date I participated in from the mid 1990s.

 

I was living in Glasgow and visiting Edinburgh. I was on a night out and there was loud music and disco lights. I was spectacularly drunk. You know how it is when you try and keep up in rounds with Scottish lads.

 

I bumped into some lady, danced a bit, we had a kiss and a cuddle and I pretended I could hear what she was saying and that she was hilarious, but all I could hear was the music.

 

It was near chucking-out time and the mates that I was going to stay with were leaving.  I wasn’t doing THAT well with this lady, so told her I was leaving with my mates and we somehow arranged to meet up the next evening, for a date at the cinema (they were different times).  

 

I think she may have written the meet-up details on my hand.    Ah, those times before mobile phones...

 

Next night I drove through to Edinburgh, having splashed on the Old Spice or whatever, and met her at the entrance of the cinema.

 

Having said hello, the first thing she said to me is “Oh. You’re ENGLISH? I dinnae really like the English...”

 

I kind of shrugged that I was who I was, and asked whether we were going to go and watch a film or not, and she agreed, so I got tickets.

 

On our way to the screen, we had to walk by a life size cardboard cut-out of an African slave in chains, which was promoting the film “Amistad”.  

 

She piped up “That’s how it should be, Black people in chains, eh?”.

 

Weakly, and to my eternal shame, I swerved her comment.  I think I just wanted to go and sit in silence and see the film I’d paid for (not Amistad, but I can’t recall now what it was) and just get it over with.

 

After the film, she asked me for a lift home.  

 

As I dropped her off, she leaned in for a kiss and her halitotic gingivitis breath made me recoil like a boxer from smelling salts.

 

I was too much of a wimp to tell her to just get the fvck out my car, so I promised to call and scarpered back to Glasgow.

 

There was no second date.

 

[VLC86]

18 minutes ago, Vacamion said:

 

There was a previous thread for bad dates, in which I posted this story a few years ago, and which I can’t now find, so for those of you who are newer here, here is a bad date I participated in from the mid 1990s.

 

I was living in Glasgow and visiting Edinburgh. I was on a night out and there was loud music and disco lights. I was spectacularly drunk. You know how it is when you try and keep up in rounds with Scottish lads.

 

I bumped into some lady, danced a bit, we had a kiss and a cuddle and I pretended I could hear what she was saying and that she was hilarious, but all I could hear was the music.

 

It was near chucking-out time and the mates that I was going to stay with were leaving.  I wasn’t doing THAT well with this lady, so told her I was leaving with my mates and we somehow arranged to meet up the next evening, for a date at the cinema (they were different times).  

 

I think she may have written the meet-up details on my hand.    Ah, those times before mobile phones...

 

Next night I drove through to Edinburgh, having splashed on the Old Spice or whatever, and met her at the entrance of the cinema.

 

Having said hello, the first thing she said to me is “Oh. You’re ENGLISH? I dinnae really like the English...”

 

I kind of shrugged that I was who I was, and asked whether we were going to go and watch a film or not, and she agreed, so I got tickets.

 

On our way to the screen, we had to walk by a life size cardboard cut-out of an African slave in chains, which was promoting the film “Amistad”.  

 

She piped up “That’s how it should be, Black people in chains, eh?”.

 

Weakly, and to my eternal shame, I swerved her comment.  I think I just wanted to go and sit in silence and see the film I’d paid for (not Amistad, but I can’t recall now what it was) and just get it over with.

 

After the film, she asked me for a lift home.  

 

As I dropped her off, she leaned in for a kiss and her halitotic gingivitis breath made me recoil like a boxer from smelling salts.

 

I was too much of a wimp to tell her to just get the fvck out my car, so I promised to call and scarpered back to Glasgow.

 

There was no second date.

 

You went through all of that and you didn’t shag her? 

[Guest Manini]

3 hours ago, HappyHamza said:

I had another amusing one I guess though without the 'happy ending'...

 

Went on a date with a girl from rugby about 18 months ago.  Went ok but just ok. After the date things ramped up and she was sending all sorts of filthy pics and vids. Then she told me she was really after a threesome. 'Awesome' I thought. But she'd already picked the other party - her male bi-sexual friend.

 

Now I have no issue with anybody's sexuality whatsoever....live and let live....but that wasn't my bag! 

 

Didn't see her again.

Got to be careful with those Rugby players mate 

[Vacamion]

12 minutes ago, Costock_Fox said:

You went through all of that and you didn’t shag her? 

 

I only ever shag bacon breath racist anglophobes. 

[Meat and 2 veg]

When I was 23, I went on a date. Was going well, cut a long story short someone bumped into me and it was getting a little bit heated. She ended up throwing hands and dropping this guy. That’s the last I saw of her. 

[Langston]

Absolutely astounded that the man behind Happy Hamza is the best part of forty

[lcfcsnow]

On 31/08/2019 at 18:02, HappyHamza said:

I had another amusing one I guess though without the 'happy ending'...

 

Went on a date with a girl from rugby about 18 months ago.  Went ok but just ok. After the date things ramped up and she was sending all sorts of filthy pics and vids. Then she told me she was really after a threesome. 'Awesome' I thought. But she'd already picked the other party - her male bi-sexual friend.

 

Now I have no issue with anybody's sexuality whatsoever....live and let live....but that wasn't my bag! 

 

Didn't see her again.

I think I know who you mean, can’t remember her name but think it began with N? I saw the photos and she had the bloke with her in her profile pic, thought it was too weird and didn’t bother in the end 😳

[HappyHamza]

13 minutes ago, lcfcsnow said:

I think I know who you mean, can’t remember her name but think it began with N? I saw the photos and she had the bloke with her in her profile pic, thought it was too weird and didn’t bother in the end 😳

I can't remember her name tbh.  She didn't have a bloke in the pic when I met her but obvs could have changed. She did send me a video of her playing with herself though so I got something out of it 😂

[UpTheLeagueFox]

Threesomes? Nah, Not for me.

It's bad enough disappointing one woman let alone two in the same night.....

[Izzy]

On 31/08/2019 at 18:02, HappyHamza said:

I had another amusing one I guess though without the 'happy ending'...

 

Went on a date with a girl from rugby about 18 months ago.  Went ok but just ok. After the date things ramped up and she was sending all sorts of filthy pics and vids. Then she told me she was really after a threesome. 'Awesome' I thought. But she'd already picked the other party - her male bi-sexual friend.

 

Now I have no issue with anybody's sexuality whatsoever....live and let live....but that wasn't my bag! 

 

Didn't see her again.

Reminds me of @lifted*fox and his famous threesome in the woods confession.

 

”I saw his penis and I wasn’t offended”

 

[Ross-Kemp]

Step forward @Ric Flair and the tale of the Geordie.

[Stadt]

20 minutes ago, Ross-Kemp said:

Step forward @Ric Flair and the tale of the Geordie.

Hairiest Ham wallet?

[Ric Flair]

12 hours ago, Ross-Kemp said:

Step forward @Ric Flair and the tale of the Geordie.

Hahahahaaaa what a fcukin very very bad doo that was. I wonder if I can still find the post of that, I can't face typing it out again haha

[Stadt]

12 hours ago, Ross-Kemp said:

Step forward @Ric Flair and the tale of the Geordie.

 

12 hours ago, Stadt said:

Hairiest Ham wallet?

 

35 minutes ago, Ric Flair said:

Hahahahaaaa what a fcukin very very bad doo that was. I wonder if I can still find the post of that, I can't face typing it out again haha

 

Think it’s in this thread 

[Ric Flair]

25 minutes ago, Stadt said:

 

 

 

Think it’s in this thread 

Hahahahaaa yeah there it is, harrowing. I'll copy and paste for everyone.

[Ric Flair]

Quote

HELLYN

Ok, well here goes. I'm not sure whether this will be funny, because the actual mental anguish I went through is still with me today and when reading it, you might have to ask yourself why would I put myself through this? But, I am a man who doesn't like confrontation and ends up in situations that he really doesn't want to be in, especially with orrible women.

It's early 2002, I think it's nearly easter. I've had a few eggs. I am 18 and i'm working at Transco (now National Grid) I work on an I.T. Helpline and there's another one up in Newcastle, so we're kind of the same team. We speak a lot, share logged faults and discuss the similarities and differences of Dez Hamilton and Jonathon Stevenson. I started getting a bit friendly with one of the boilers on the phone from Newcastle, had a lovely sounding voice and she were about 24, so it was game on as far as I was concerned. We used to have job swaps, some of us would go up there and some would come down to Hinckley every few months. Turns out this slag was soon to come down, she'd sent me a photo of herself and she looked like it was worth going up her tubes. So I made a subconscious contract with myself that i'd try and do the john if I could. This is where the first problem was encountered. If I decide things like this, I find it hard to go back on it when drunk even when the goal posts are moved (i.e. turns out she's a fookin horror).

So down they came, I had already met a few of the lads before and they were a right good laugh. Anyway, I clamped eyes on this girl, her name was Hellyn, anyone who spells Helen like that has got to be a bit micey anyway. I should have bloody known. She didn't look very nice, but as I said, there was not really any going back as i'd already insinuated to her I wanted to get busy with her when she came down. So we all went out and got leathered the first night they were down, as the night wore on, I convinced myself she was worth a couple of minutes of my time. Ended up back at her hotel, thought it would be a standard sh*g. Oh no, she was in to some weird sh1t. She had calves and thighs like Geoff Capes and I found it really difficult to brush her off when she straddled me and started properly biting me. Eventually she'd got her cheap thrill and finally fell asleep so I did a runner and walked down the A5 back to my house, took me about 45 minutes. I am sure I cried on the way home.

The above is more than enough ammunition to never speak to the girl again, I mean, it's not as if I had to see her at work every day and if she ever called me, i'd accidently slip and hang up. So why did I then agree to the invitation of going up to Newcastle to see her for the weekend? I suppose tickets to see Newcastle did raise a brief interest with me, but as for any other positives there weren't any. So off we go to Newcastle, about 4 hours on the train. Dreading it, but in a perverse and sick way, actually wanting to. Met her at the train station, she looked even worse than before. Looked like she'd got herpes or something as well, and there was something else. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on at first. There was another member present with us, a smaller person who was wandering along with us as we looked for the bus to South Shields. Oh yes, it was a 5 year old girl. She'd got a child, she was also recently divorced apparently, lovely then. Oh for fook sake, what am I doing? I'd had about 6 cans of Stella on the way up though, so I rolled with the punches. I had heard a lot of positive press about Whitley Bay so I thought, worst comes to the worst i'd drop the shoulder on her at night when she was at the bar and do a runner down there and enjoy some upper class girls. Her mum and dad both looked like Rab C Nesbitt, but thankfully I wasn't stopping the night there. I'd been booked in at the Travel Tavern as there wasn't enough room for me (Hellyn even paid for me, although to be honest so she fookin should, the beast). I was getting ready at the hotel on my own, or atleast I thought I was on my own when this naked creature appeared in the bathroom as I was about to get in to the shower. It was her, she'd let herself in somehow and thought i'd like some company in a shower, only fit for one, let alone 2 people and one of them being a tank. I'd like to say I didn't sh*g her in the shower, or sh*g her at all that weekend but I did and probably in excess of 5 times, i'm not sure whether it was because she'd had a kid, but it was like stirring porridge when I gave her one. Touch the sides? They were about 3 feet away. I feel sick just typing this, what sort of a man does that? Especially given he didn't want to, or claim he didn't want to anyway.

The weekend passed and I got home after a horrendous train journey back. My face was greasy, i'd had to endure the best part of 5 hours next to Mick Hucknall's biggest fan.

Never again, never gonna see that fat trout again. NO NO NO NO NO

May bank holiday

' Alreet? what er ya deein ova the bank olideh? '

' Erm, not really got any plans '

' Champion, i'll come down un see yers then '

' Oh, erm, well, yeah if you want '

What the mince, why have I agreed to this? I've probably already caught herpes and god knows what. Also, it dawned upon me that my mates might actually see this specimen, i'd got away with it the first time as I was out with work when I was molested by her. I met her at the train station, she'd got a golf cap on, it nearly tipped me over the edge. I'd not been as productive in booking her a hotel room as she had with me and infact i'd told her to sort it herself. She booked some dubious guesthouse that I didn't even know existed. I really wasn't in the mood for this, i'd at least been relatively civil when I went to Newcastle, but I was incapable of showing any kind of enthuisiasm or affection. She must have known something was up, but no, she didn't. She checked in to the guesthouse, I said i'd nip home and get ready and come and meet her later, but she insisted on coming with me. OH GOD she's gonna meet my mum and dad, they'll be horrified. Please, please, please don't my brothers be home, they'll p1ss themselves. We turn up, oh sh1t, bingo full house. They're all in, I open the door, even the dog sh1ts itself and scurries off in to it's basket. I literally want to die, want to end worlds, be anywhere but here. She meets the folks, and my brothers, I can read what they're thinking, this is horrible. I quickly get ready and get out of the house as quick as possible, i'm so agitated. We head in to town, I need a beer, I need a million beers. I get a text off my brother ' Wahahahaaaaa '

I needed to do something, this couldn't go on. She couldn't meet my mates, there was a party that night, there's no way I could take her there. I'd never live this down, i'd got previous for going through a few 'butter faces' and what not, but this wasn't cricket, not this time. Then I spied an opportunity, I couldn't believe I was thinking it, but this was serious and I needed to step up to the plate and save myself. She had said she was going to meet up with one of our work colleagues for an hour or so, I obviously agreed to this wholeheartedly. When she buggered off, I rang my brother. I needed his wisdom. We met up for a beer, he was still p1ssing himself laughing. I let it lie, I deserved everything that I was getting. I ran the idea I had past my brother, he looked shocked but liked it, loved it infact and said it was my only option. He'd used this in the past and wasn't shocked by the nature of the idea but the fact that I was willing to use it, the ultimate get out. So I had a couple of absynthe's to pluck up the courage and I rang her.

' Hellyn, it's Bean '

' alreet pet, what ya deein? '

' i'm really sorry, but i've just had some really bad news. My nan has fallen down the stairs and I have got to go and see her. She lives in London though, so i'm going to be gone for the whole weekend '

SILENCE

' you joking me? '

' no, sorry to do this to you. i'm so sorry, but i've got to go. '

I must admit, what I did there is bad and I left the poor girl in Hinckley all on her own for the whole weekend. I was a bit p1ssed off to be honest, I shot myself in the foot a bit because I also sacrificed my weekend as I couldn't be seen out just incase she was still milling about. So I sat in in my bedroom and hid, even though I knew she wasn't going to find me, I hid from myself more than anything for getting myself in to such a predicament. The weekend passed and when I knew she'd definitely gone home, I celebrated by nailing about 10 Newcastle Browns and chundering.

So there we have it, a fine piece of mess. I'd got away with it though hadn't I? She were none the wiser about my nan and thankfully my mates never caught wind of this whole shenanigans. WRONG.

I forgot to add an incident that took place about 4 months later. I had little to do with the girl after Grandma-gate, even though I think she bought it, we didn't speak on the phone at work any longer and there was very few emails. So once the summer had arrived i'd forgot all about it, was too busy getting myself in other situations to remenisce. Then news filtered through that National Grid was taking over Transco and that some of us would be taking on new roles. There were new job opportunities and a 4 week training course in Cobham, Surrey. I was all over it like a wet flannel, 4 weeks down there on the rip, hopefully a few boilers and what not. ERROR. I get down there, and guess who's also on the gig? Hellyn. Looking fatter than ever, I briefly pondered that she might be pregnant again and i'd have to donkeypunch the bitch. But fear not, it was just greed. Word got round to me from one of my colleagues who was friendly with her that she wanted to 'teach me a lesson' for what had happened back in May. I'd foolishly told a few of the lads back at work about what had gone on and some rascal had let it slip and it had got back to her up north.

I tried to stay out of her way, but it lasted about 2 days before she collared me. I'd got a brand spanking new denim jacket on and she threw a snakebite and black at me, couple of windmills pinged at me and then I ended up sh*gging her again. No word of a lie. My darkest hour ever. I'm livid as I type this, what a moron.

I knew I had to bail. I wasn't overly keen on the job I was training for either, I wanted to go back and do my old job again, i'd been told we could do this if we wanted to. I called my boss, things had changed though, bodies were needed to learn the new jobs and then teach new staff and only then could we go back to our old jobs. That wasn't on my agenda, not one bit, there was no way I was doing that. So the next day, I didn't turn in. I sat in my hotel room and ordered a p0rn movie and some salmon on room service on to my team leaders company credit card. There was uproar (not about the p0rn and salmon, they didn't find out about that until a later date) threats were exchanged from my boss and myself and I verbally stuffed my job up her ar5e. Problem was, I didn't have a car with me, it was 7pm and I needed to leave very quickly. Transco had been a bit foolish though and paid our weekly hotel allowance in to our accounts to settle before we went home. So I fooked off with about �550 and got the train to London, rinsed the majority of it and woke up the next day without a job.

I felt invigorated though, the shackles were finally off. It had cost me my job to finally rid myself of that fat geordie parasite and none of this was necessary had I have done what most human beings would have done and nipped it in the bud early doors. But what's the fun in that?

Incidently she's got 4 kids now and owns a pub in Gateshead. Let's hope one of those little urchins wasn't born around about the summer of 2003, otherwise i'm 7 years in arreas on Child Maintenance.

I need a lie down after re-living all of that. What a tw*t.

Here is the harrowing tale of a series of unfortunate dealings I had with a very plump and hard to shake Geordie woman. 16 years on and it still gives me the fcukin willies.

[Stadt]

Here’s the rest  

 

THE OCTOSTACKER

I received a link from you tube, the middle o' last week, informing me of a bit of business being sent my way. I opened it, I watched it, I liked it. They knew they had me hooked as soon as I had watched it. My pals goaded me all week in to taking it on. A couple of the lads had had a crack at it and failed.

So after an absolute skinful on Thursday I decided the time was right for Friday afternoon. Everybody would be at work, I could go and do a reccie and see how the land lied. Little did I know that word had spread i'd be in town and a few had made their way down to the eatery. I rocked up, wasn't dressed appropriately.

I must admit I panicked a bit, a few months back I ordered a three quarter pounder from some orrible kebab shop and so did me pal. I wolfed mine, but he only had a couple of nips at his, so I thraped that as well. Let's just say, the old bill had to move me on from the shop after an hour of being in there as there had been complaints about what i'd chundered down my regalia.

Anyway, I soldiered on up to the counter. Gave it the Lineker stare, when gazza got booked against Germany and put the invoice in. There was a little bit of commotion break out from the gallery but soon enough the party in the mouth arrived. I found an empty booth and in I got.

It took me 2 minutes to unwrap the swine, then picking the beggar up was like trying to finger an eel. Anyway, I copped holt of it and I must admit the first half a dozen bites were like poetry. But then it got messy, a little bit like Sloth when he eats that Baby Rooth on The Goonies. My stomach wanted to do a runner as well and every bite was sending alarm signals to both the sh1tter.

My biggest mistake was only ordering one drink with the little fancy, you need at least 2 large cokes to get the job done. I didn't want to upset my vibe and get up and order another one, so I had to go dry for the last half a pound or so. Some of the noises coming out of my mouth were horrifying, but the crowd were lapping it up. The home straight was an absolute blur, I knew i'd be seeing it all again but I knew i'd at least be able to keep some dignity if I gave them what they wanted.

Once it had all gone though, it didn't get any easier. It got worse, at least shovelling in a sh1t load more food took your mind off the pain briefly. I really needed a poop, a drink, a p1ss, a sick, a death. I chose to settle for one of the latter 2 and it was push and shove what was to come first, I honestly thought I was going to pass out.

The boffing up though was just horrendous, it was coming out in blocks and about choking me. A poor little lad was in the trap next to me minding his own business when i've waded in and what can only be described as give birth oraly to something from another planet.

As soon as the was a break in proceedings I fled the place. Literally legged it. Got home and just sat in the bath in my clothes and shoes and had a little cry.

I definitely recommend it.


THE HAIRIEST HAM WALLET

I was 18/19 and had gone through a lean spell with birds. One of my mates good friends was a bit of a slag and I knew it wouldn't be hard to give her one and it was getting to the stage where this option was becoming very plausible. A matter of days later, I spotted her out on the p1ss and rattled her cage. I was plastered and so, as far as I was concerned I shouldn't be ashamed of myself. However, there was an alterior motive from this boiler. She knew I drank myself silly at the weekends and I was easy pickings for her for the future, so much so that the following few weekends i'd wake up to her gobbling me off and i'd got no prior memory of me sealing the deal that night previous. It started to really wind me up, I was angry with myself that I let it happen and then I did something I find disgraceful, I actually slipped her one when I was sober. I don't know how it happened, i'd gone round there to try and tell her to fook off. But she whipped the johnson out and i'd turned the opportunity, yes.

The following week, I decided I was going to tell her it was the end of the road. She'd got the hairiest ham wallet as well ('Kokopops, can I use that? I know it's yours). I'd only got �15 on me that night, so had gone up the weatherspoons and it used to be 4 Aftershock for �5 so I had 12 and bollocked them all down in quadrouples. I met up with her, went for a walk through this orchard type thing, fook knows what it was. Anyway, from what I remember I got chatting, was dead set on being brutally honest.... but still to this day I wasn't a witness to what actually went on. I woke up, still in this orchard with my trousers and boxers round my ankles and a nodder on. I literally have no recollection and this gal was nowehere to be seen. I couldn't believe i'd been fooled again, tricked by a John Virgo of s3x tricks. I buggered off home with my tail between my legs. Charged my phone up, only to find the following message on my phone ' I am so glad we are now officially going out with each other. ' I can't believe you asked me out, I thought you were going to finish with me before '. I thought it was some sort of joke, but it wasn't.

I have always been incapable of telling girls I want to finish with what I really think of them, and i'd landed myself right in the gary. So how did I get rid of her, you may ask? I said i'd lend her mum a video (think it was Green Mile or something) but I put one of my brothers filthy p0rno's in the box instead. Worked a treat, why I didn't do this early doors i'll never know.



ROBBIE WILLIAMS

September 2007, i'll hold my hands up. I've gone a Robbie Williams concert with my ex girlfriend, my mate and his boiler. We've signed up for this gig because we thought we'd be done and dusted in time for a night out in Leeds afterwards. As the day unfolded, it slowly dawned upon me, that was as likely as a combination from Stephen Hawkings.

We've set off at 5 am, apparently it was imperitive for us to get there 5 hours before the gates opened so we could get to the front, I mean please. But i've bitten my lip, i've got 18 cans of Fosters to get through. We get there, park up and then find out we've parked 3 miles away from the venue and have to flag down a taxi to get us there, this later came back to haunt me in a very traumatic way. Stay with me.

Me and my mate got to work on the tins, they were being bollocked down well easy. Going for a p1ss isn't an issue, there were bogs and bushes. I'm p1ssed up and oblivious to the numbers. Gates have opened, mayhem. Running down massive fook off hills in Roundhay Park, i've hit the deck early. I mow down a few others, it's bedlam. Manage to get to my feet about 100 yards down the hill, we get to the makeshift arena. Oh jesus, we're 4 rows from the front. Surely a good thing, right? The bitches were lovin it, I however wasn't as I needed yet another piddle. I'd done a bit of a reccie though and took an extra hooded top to tie round my waist the wrong way so that I could p1ss in to pint cups without anyone rumbling me. Everything was fine, i'd emptied mesen and then I turned round to see that I couldn't actually see anything other than bodies. Turns out there was nearly 100,000 other fookers who'd also got nothing better to do with their saturday than come and stand in a park to watch some sincerely sub standard music.

Me and my pal attempted to make our way through the party to get a few more ales. It took us 45 minutes to get through them all, bought 5 bottles of minature wines each and then returned about another hour later. Still no sign of Williams. By the time the first act came on (Orson, didn't he write books?) i'd started to get a bit of movement in the stomach area. I thought I just needed another slash, standard. But no, I unzipped him and flopped him in a cup but there was no room at the inn. It confused me, I couldn't work out why I had stomach ache. It genuinely didn't dawn upon me that I might need a pony. It was 4pm, I knew that at best i'd be here for another 5 hours. I was starting to panick and a few forced farts weren't really helping matters. The natives behind were disgusted as well, so I was in a bit of bother. Orson came and went and on came Basement Jaxx, who to be fair I quite liked in my yoof, but when your abdomen is doing a few Tom Daly's, it could be Elvis Pressley for all I care. I battled through their set, pinching my cheeks together tighter and tighter with every minute that passed. It was horrible, I was starting to consider ways I could get out of this sh1t hole, excuse the pun. I couldn't push myself back through the crowd and up the hill, there was literally too many people and I couldn't walk, I was on tip toes. As I was only 4 rows from the front I fancied feigning injury and being carried out, but I knew i'd cr*p mesen if there was any sudden movements and being hoisted over the railings would have filled me knickers.

Robert came on at fookin 9.30pm, absolutely furious with the man. I'd been in this damn park for the best part of 14 hours. I'd had a skinful, and it felt like I was having a nervous breakdown. I couldn't give a monkeys whether he was a better man or on the road to p1ssin mandalay. I wanted it over, I wanted to squit me bag. Some more gas, but this time not forced, literally had to delicately thread a few trumps through the enclosed bum cheeks. The smell was enough to scare police horses. 11pm game over. But was it really? No it was only just beginning for the lad. Williams was off on his helicopter, could cr*p himself if he wanted to and no-one would batter an eye lid. I'd been moaning and mrs mrs had had enough of me, she went wild. The crowds slowly dispersed and very gingerly I shuffled up the hill and out of the park. Then we realised we had a 3 mile walk back to the car and not really a clue in what direction. I didn't need this. I was looking for appropriate bushes to do the john, but where there was plenty early on, right now there was nothing. People everywhere, no restbite.

About a mile down the road, I spot an opening. McDonalds!!! Hello. I steam in there, my heart sinks. The queue for the sh1tter is 50 yards long. No hope. Off I go. Back on the road. Old bill everywhere, can't muddy someones garden. Another mile passes. We get to a row of shops, pizza place, chinese, brothel. Any can for me to use? NO. My mate even has the audacity, and get ready for this. To ask me if I wanted anything from the chinese. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT??? I've needed a poop for the best part of 6 hours and yet i'm still going to wolf some chinese down as a little treat to myself? I nearly planted him, but i was no use to man nor beast.

Then a little nugget popped out and ended my world. I was devastated, I had a little cry in the bus shelter. I was at the end of my teather, I was 24 and i'd bobbed myself. The problem was, it wasn't just a token nugget, I knew there was more to follow so I had to take action. I ran round the back of the shops and flung my jeans down and just fired out the worst bout of explosive muck I have ever been privvy to experience. Hooded top was removed, mopped myself up and came back round the shops a new man. I was back in the game, i've never felt a euphoric feeling like that one, no drugs has ever achieved that, no boiler has ever got me feeling like that and the blue army even at wembley have never took me on that sort of roller coaster.

So there we have it, pure filth of a day. So I went in the chinese and spent �25.


DON SCRATTO

Picture the scene, really soak it up.

I've just turned 13, i've arrived in Almeria, Roquetas De Mar to be precise. It's fookin hot, really hot. I usually go about my business looking the colour of casper the ghost so to be presented with 35 degree heat is about as welcome for me as a p1ss and a fart at the same time. Anyway i've shrugged it off as i'm armed with my brand new Agassi Tennis Racquet, pickings!

Now at 13, I was old enough to not trust my Dad when it comes to holidays. In the past he'd took us on some dubious holidays where we'd had to fly from Bristol, Bournmouth and Cardiff respectively. The menace didn't care where we flew from as long as he got what he classed as an 'Ian Beale' (Deal). I'd tried to quash my reservations about this trip though, as my older brother was bringing his girlfriend along who came from a wealthy family, so surely me old boy would show a bit of decorum? The answer to that question was answered 20 seconds after the bus driver had dropped us all off.

My brother and his girlfriend, my other brother, my mum, my dad and me. Stood there, couldn't say a word. Absolutely gobsmacked, bewildered, scared, the audacity of the man! My eye sight in recent years has took a turn for the worst, contact lenses are worn at all times, but back then they were Lee Sharpe. I was witnessing what could only be described as terrorism. The building was brown, always a no no in my eyes. It was barren and david pleated. Inside it was just as bad, furniture that even fleas and turmites vacated long ago. 2 weeks, 2 fookin weeks here. You'd do less for bum rape.

Anyway, I went and had a butchers at the bedrooms. I mean, I wasn't going to be spending much time in the bathroom or the kitchen was I? I was going to be up early, chatting to the honeyz on the beach in the day and then partying at night. I must admit, I was daydreaming. Reality soon set in, there were 2 bedrooms. Oh dear, he really has excelled himself this time.

'There's 6 of us Dad!' I said

'Well you and your brother will have to sleep in the lounge, there's a camp bed and a sofa, well chair thing'

Lovely, what a gent, what a salt of the earth. As you could imagine, me and my brother couldn't contain our delight. It was like fighting who would rather have a bout of the sh1ts or a mug of sick. And don't worry readers there was plenty of both which you will find out later, keep with me.

My brothers went wild at my dad, tempers frayed and I took myself away from the gig. Went exploring. In recent years i'd got in to a bit of bother on holiday, i'd got previous with the Belgium kids and I was hoping they'd not made the trip. I walked across a bit of desert, i'm not joking either Sierra Nevada or some boll0cks like that. I found a swimming pool, as you might have guessed, our palace didn't possess one of those luxuries. I jumped in and all of life's problems I just shaked off. Next thing I knew, BANG! Out of nowhere i've been bombed in the pool, right on the bonnet. I was all over the place, trying to catch my breath. Who the mince has done that I thought? Anyway, I regained my composure and surfaced from the water. Fookin knew it, one of the Belgium's! What is it with them? Anyway I got out of the pool, walked straight up to him who was playing some foreign version of pogs and kicked him in the head. Job done. Where's yer pogs now yer tw@t?

The next few days went without incident. Gullit was some sort of penis, Izzet had signed on a permanent for �600,000, I was buzzing. The initial protests of the gaff we were in had been put to one side, I mean, what could we do? I was on about �3 a week, I could hardly up sticks and check in to Es Paradise for the fortnight could I? So Don Scratto it was (I am not joking about the name of the place either, questions surely had to be asked by my dad when the booking itinerary came through, but no, don't be daft!) The sleeping arrangements were disgraceful, I had lost a mammoth game of Pass The Pigs with my brother, so I had the chair. I'd also discovered that the property we were residing in had been built on old swamp ground so we also had some other company join the party. Mosquito's, thousands of the bast@rds. The first night I slept in my Garry Parker City shirt and shorts, good combination I thought. Rookie error, very bad combination. Not sure whether the fookers were jealous of Parker's range of passing, but they took it out on me. About seventy bites, head to toe. I looked like John Merrick. So for the rest of the holiday I slept in jeans and a jumper, which was very pleasant. I lost about 3 stone and had hallucinations that I was a farmer and I had a dolphin as a scarecrow.

Things took a turn for the worst when we went to this other beach a few miles down the coast, it was meant to be good for snorkelling and surfing. The wind picked up from the African coast apparently and made some big waves. I got the li-lo out and went for a swim, the waves were big and soon enough I was out of my depth. I turned round to look for my dad but apparently the water was too boisterous for him and the current of the waves had about kegged him so he got out. I was stranded, the waves were about drowning me. I don't really know what happened next but I remember being pulled out of the water by a man who still to this day I am both thankful to him and scared of him. He saved me from drowning, but he also had the naughtiest pair of speedo's on I have ever seen before and it put me off my spaghetti hoops.

That night we all went out to celebrate my near death experience. Foolishly, my dad was put in charge of finding an appropriate eatery. We rocked up to this authentic Italian restaurant, looked ok, so we sat down. I ordered the cannelloni and even had half a shandy to wash it down. Weaker men would have been off their tits, but not me. The pasta turned up and I allowed myself for the first time all trip to let my guard down, i'd settled in to the hostile environment and was almost enjoying myself. SLAP. I took a bite, it about bounced out of my mouth. As soon as i'd eaten it I knew I was in trouble, alarm bells were ringing and so was my other ring.

Everyone elses food was of similar ilk and there was a bust up. My brother squirted salad cream at my other brothers girlfriend after she voiced her displeasure, a fork came back the other way. My family stuck up for my brothers girlfriend and I didn't think it was on myself. The slag deserved the salad cream. Things got quite bad actually and joking aside it is still a memory that haunts me to this day.

Let me explain. My brother stormed off and I went to find him, he'd always been looked upon as the cretin of the family and I wasn't having it not this time. Time to show some solidarity and stick up for him. I found him in the arcade pumping the bandit, he were getting nowhere with it. Pesatas were flying about left, right and centre. Now, my brother has always been a dab hand with a pellet gun, once shot me up the 'arris when I was on the golf course and he was in the bushes on my backswing, still made birdie. Anyway, he had a crack at some shooting game and won a couple of bottles of moody foreign babycham. We boll0cked them down us and went home, turns out my mum and dad had started arguing about the nights proceedings and so much so that my mum threw a bull hammer at my dad. It was bad, really bad, you don't want to see your parents fighting. I got involved and took one in the melee, it was an accident I know, but I planted my dad anyway and then I cried.

Although it was 'orrible, it did make me forget about the impending investigation that was filtering through my system and sure to make an appearance and some point in the near future. My mind is a little hazy of what day we were on when the explosive diahhorrea hit town, it was towards the end of the holiday i'm sure, certainly in to the 2nd week. The term ' i'd leave it fifteen before you go in there pal ' is often used willy nilly and has lost it's value, but in this instance it was the real deal. It was enough to scare police horses, even the mosquito's fooked off. I was going through bog roll like no man's business and I didn't see day light for a few days. What was a welcome surprise though was that I wasn't sick at any time during this solitary confinement and I thought i'd got a way with it.

I think I finally got the all clear with a day or so of the holiday left, so with ground to make up I hit the beach with the family. I was still suspicious of the sea, so I just milled about on the sun loungers peering over my comics to look at the tidy boilers. Anyway, I was minding my own business, may have even been nodding off in the shade when I felt a nip. When I say a nip, it was more like a red hot poker being furiously stabbed in to my foot. I looked down to see a very small scorpion playing cowboys and indians with me. I about sh1t mesen, which granted given my recent predicament wasn't much of a surprise, but you don't need this. Not on yer fookin holidays, what had I done in a previous life to deserve this? What sort of holiday destination has scorpions on beaches? The little swine got drowned in a bottle of Evian and I took no pleasure out of the victory but a win's a win.

That was it for me, I didn't sleep that night or the last night. I didn't trust man kind, I stayed up and kept checking things to make sure there was nothing on the way to get me. Kept checking the bins, the sh1tter, the sinks, to make sure no snakes or anything had come through the Spanish sewage system to have a nosh at me. Refused any food and brushed my teeth with my finger just incase this place had a milkman or postman that had had an itchy arse on shift and reached for the nearest instrument.

The bus journey back to the airport was going swimmingly, even all the debris from the unfinished buildings that was flying through the windows felt nice as I knew I was on the home straight. Then I had an unpleasant burp, which bought more than I bargained for. There'd been a bit of sick.�ARTHUR fook sake, why me? Hadn't I been through enough already what with the mosquito's, nearly dying, the sh1ts, the scorpion and my dad. Luckily I was sitting next to my mum who acted fast and whipped out a bag for me to be sick in, downside to that was that the bag belonged to me and it had my Alba Walkman in it, Fat's Domino was ruined. In fact I don't think i've heard Chubby Checker and The Fat Boys - We're Doin The Twist since. We got to the airport armed with a bag o' sick to greet customs with. I gave them the slip and went straight in to trap 2 and ralphed and ralphed. I don't know what had gone on next door, but I think some kids had thrown a few stink bombs in and locked the door, it wasn't what I needed. I took bodies.

After I had nothing left to give to the services of sickness, I fled the scene. Got out in to the departure lounge and went to find my family. I caught a glimpse of myself, it wasn't pretty. The 2 weeks had taken their toll, either that or i'd had an uphill paper round as a kid. I couldn't see my family, but instead I was faced with Mike Sheron the Stoke City Predator. It perked me up a bit, I gave him the nod, he knew the nod. The nod that says, i'm a Leicester fan, stick your deliah up your arse, Garry Parker 1-0 on the volley, Wembley for us, Almeria for you for your holidays. Then it dawned upon me, yes I had the Wembley win and the Premiership, but I too had the mispleasure of Almeria like Sheron. What I couldn't fathom out though is why did Big Ears Mike look relaxed and refreshed, tanned and drunk on life? And I looked patchy red, bitten to fook, p1ss wet through in sweat and sick and a couple of stone lighter. Turns out he'd gone 5 star about 40 miles down the coast, couldn't really compete with that so with my tail between my legs (mainly as a safety measure to prevent any further follow through) I scurried off to finally get out of this sh1t hole.

Plane journey was sweet as a bell, even managed a bit of�scran without seeing it again and did some colouring in. Then the plane landed, well it didn't land, it had a little crash and although it was fairly innocuous, the baggage door got jammed and we had to wait an hour and a half for the bags to come through the flaps. Mix that in with about a 4 hour drive home from the arse end of England and you've got yourselves a winner.

[StanSP]

4 hours ago, Ric Flair said:

Her mum and dad both looked like Rab C Nesbitt

...

but it was like stirring porridge when I gave her one. Touch the sides? They were about 3 feet away

... 

Hellyn. Looking fatter than ever, I briefly pondered that she might be pregnant again and i'd have to donkeypunch the bitch

Absolutely sensational to read once again. 

 

Those were my favourite bits

 

[SystonFox]

I’ve never read the original. This business with Hellyn is sensational. I love it

[Stadt]

The Belgiums