Drunk Stories....

[Guest Manini]

52 minutes ago, Kinowe Soorie said:

Don’t mind me!

I’ve just realised your handle is an anagram of Wookie Senior and my mind is officially fried. 

[Finnaldo]

Went on a lad’s jolly to Bratislava back end of July for a long weekender. Arrived Friday midday, dropped our bags off at the apartment and headed into the old town (conveniently 5 minutes away) for an afternoon nosey before we went on the bevs that evening. 

 

Of course when you’re with a group of deviants in a city where you’re paying €1-€2 on average for a 0.5l that goes down easier than a fat bird in Mosh you end up 3 taverns down and 10 beers deep before you’re even in sight of that Church you feigned interest in that was supposed to be a 10 minute walk away. The night ends up with one of the lads vanishing into a strip club only for us to find out the next morning he had spent an unholy amount to shag a Polish stripper. I’m still not sure how much he spent but he had gone through the few hundred euros he’d brought and had gone into his savings before his bank had temporarily froze his account whilst he was trying to shed another ton out. To make matters worse he apparently ended up chatting to her about how she came to be a stripper which led to them crying in each other’s arms. Totally fvcking tragic start.

 

So after a sweltering Friday the heavens opened and Saturday morning was a total blowout, before clearing up around noon for us to do exactly the same as the day before. Eventually we find out about a pub crawl that starts in the Old City between 9-10 and that’s our night sorted. Of course the ladies’ man is less up for it that night as is the group’s lightweight, but nevertheless we head out all four to the Crawl HQ. It’s the typical set up, a few tables for card and drinking games, a bar, a foosball table etc. to get everyone on the crawl talking and socialising. I head on to the foosball table and am paired up with a Yank, totally disregarding the set of rules on the far wall. We get spanked 10-1 by the Hungarian bloke who runs it and must play the bastard every night. Forced to buy a drink for the winners, all good, move on to meet up with ladies man and lightweight to see how they’ve been coping. 

 

Meanwhile, the last of the four musketwats steps up to the foosball table, equally as oblivious to the rules . He’s paired off with an Italian and plays the same bloke I did only to lose 10-0. Yet as he goes to get the drinks he owes, the Hungarian points to the rule board.

 

’10-0, NAKED MARCH’

 

At this point I’m with ladies man and lightweight at the bar area, only to hear screams and commotion down the hall, and seconds after our old mate bursts through the door, bollock naked, with a mixed look of both true British upper lip hiding what I can only assume was a urge to crawl off and die, as a tiny Italian bloke ran by his side waving his old boy about. 

 

We’d been there for all of 20 minutes.

 

Fast forward a bit and Streaks has been allowed his dignity back and me and him in the first bar talking to a French bloke whose on a truly French monologue about how he loves women of nationality and creed except French women because they’re “hairy and arrogant”. Streaks obviously thinks this is the best time to plaster over his early misdemeanours by impressing with his French skills, notably shouting “J’DETESTE FRANCAIS FEMME”, not realising he’s next to a group of French birds clearly not impressed by the humour of an English public exhibitionist. I left him to his own devices to talk to some Dutch lads which ended with us being threatened by Slovakian Police to either stop chanting in Dutch “or else”, before my memory blacking out at the rock n’ roll bar. Next thing I know I’m at a table on a boat bar seemingly shouting an increasingly slurry story at a table of some extremely terrified-looking travellers. 

 

I then woke up the next morning, totally naked in the bath of our apartment. No sick, no shit, no explanation, just lying comatose in the bath. I’d lost nothing but any dignity I thought I had. Another quality result of a night.

 

We spent the next two days lying low, and by that I mean I ended up in a club on Sunday on me lonesome with some Geordies and Scottish and some fit Slovakian birds. 

 

 

[urban.spaceman]

3 hours ago, z-layrex said:

This really made me laugh. Brilliant.

Here's another one then, just for you.

 

About 10 years ago I'd quit my job, flew to Botswana, bought a car and just drove around. I stayed with family in Gabrome, Bots as a 'base', to which I returned to after a few 'incidents' (car breaking down, then recovering from a huge car crash). After 6 or 7 months of adventuring I booked a flight home. My last night in Gabs coincided with my cousin's mate's 40th. So we had a bit of a party at Connor's (my cousin, a bona fide Motswana with Irish parents) house to celebrate. Everyone went to bed at about 10 and it was just me, Connor and Paul (birthday boy, an Afrikaner). We were quickly running out of beer and all bottle shops in Bots shut very early. We'd had a few anyway and decided to go looking for some more booze.

 

Now, this is going to sound appalling, because in the West it's completely illegal and morally objectionable. But in Botswana the main concern about drink driving is that you might spill it. EVERYONE does it, and it works. I mean it really works. Because they're acclimatised to it people generally drive quite well. I'd never, ever do it in the UK. But in Botswana it's only just become illegal. Connor told me a couple of years ago that the cops had just started using these 'breathalyser things'. Even now you see people raising a bottle to salute to fellow drivers on the way home from work. Anyway, I digress.

 

So we decided to go out in Paul's car. We tried a couple of well known pubs, that were both closed. Driving back, we could hear loud music, and decided to follow it. Connor, being of Irish descent, managed to talk his way into some party. Lots of beers, lots of local women asking me where I was from ("where is Leicester?"), loud music in front of the fire. I'm not sure what we did to offend someone but they kicked us out after about 10 minutes. So then we decided to drive to a late night pub in a place called Phakalane (which tends to be where the wealthy expats etc live).

 

Paul decided to avoid the main roads and drove "the back way" through what can only be described as a sewage farm. Paul then realised he had some gold clubs and balls in the back so he pulled over and smashed a few into the sewage farm. Then we found a big pile of rubbish and started sifting through for things to make jokes out of (there's a video somewhere of me holding up the shell of an old TV and pretending to be a newsreader). When we got to the pub in Phakalane, we got there 5 minutes before closing time, and basically ordered all the drinks we could think of, even managing to get a few to drive off with.

 

Where else to go now, with a shit tonne of booze and already quite pissed? The ****ing casino of course. 

 

Not the best casino. No music. Pretty quiet. I'm pretty sure we were extremely loud. I got called a racist by a local woman because I wouldn't give her a light for her cigarette. "I don't even ****ing smoke mate" I said. She said: "You're literally smoking a cigar right now". Turns out I was. I don't even smoke in general, but I was too drunk to realise I'd bought us all a cigar and was actually smoking one. I can't remember much of what happened after that. I'm pretty sure we got kicked out probably for being loud. I drove us home as Paul had passed out. I stopped off at an all night burger place and stuffed my face so bad I nearly choked. 

 

We got home around 5.30am. My bus to Joburg was at 6am.

 

8 hours on a bus in 40 degree heat, while a) still pissed and b) feeling a bit sick. I slept most of the way, but got a group text from Paul asking why there was a massive green scratch on his car. None of us could remember anything about it. Turns out he'd driven himself home instead of sleeping at Connor's and misjudged the size of his gate at his house.

 

One of the best nights ever.

 

Don't drink and drive kids. Or if you're in Botswana, don't spill it.

[urban.spaceman]

4 hours ago, z-layrex said:

Many years ago when I was 17 I downed an entire bottle of rose, chucked it up all over this girl's house and was taken home by my mates in a wheelbarrow. Dad was not pleased.

Was he pushing the wheelbarrow?

[koop.]

Here's one about a mate...

 

He stayed over at one of our other mates houses after a night out (this is going back some time so we all still lived with the parents) got up in the middle of the night to try and find the toilet. Pitch black he walked into the wrong room and pissed all over his little sister as she was sleeping. 

 

Needless to say she woke up screaming, he ran away in just his boxers to his own house and never went back there again

 

Ridiculous on every level 

[Izzy]

Talking of being drunk and needing a piss....

 

Play off final v Blackburn. One of the lads arranges a 52 seat bus from Lutterworth to Wembley leaving at 9am. We all meet in the pub at 7am for breakfast and straight on the ale. By the time we leave, most of us are already half cut - a good start to the day 

 

Bus heads off down the M1 and we all crack open the tinnies. Eventually the bus stops at Toddington services and there's thousands of Leicester there and I cba to queue up for a piss and figure I can hold on until we get to the twin towers 

 

As soon as we're back on the M1 I desperately need a piss - sods law. The traffic is slowing and we're still an hour away - not sure I can hold it in. There's a few women and kids on the bus so I don't really want to flop the old fella out and piss in a can and even if I do, I'm so drunk I'll probably cut my bell end on the ring pull.

 

We're now about a mile from Wembley and in a traffic jam - here's my chance. I decide to hop off the bus, shoot down an alley, drain the main vain, then hop back on the bus while it's at a standstill - sorted. I make my run for it, head off behind a bush and start the longest marathon piss I've ever had. Must have lasted at least a minute and the release was bliss. I zip up and head back to the bus - but it's gone!

 

The traffic had suddenly decided to start flowing again and the bus is now nowhere to be seen. Fvck! my keys, wallet, ticket, phone and fags are all in my jacket pocket - on the bus. I start running up the road in a desperate attempt to catch up with a bus I can't see and I don't even know what company it is.

 

Eventually I stagger to Wembley coach park and there's literally hundreds of fvckin buses there. I've no idea what colour bus it is, what make it is or what the bus driver looks like. It's 10 mins to kick off and I'm screwed. 

 

I decide to run around the outside of the Leicester end in desperate hope of seeing someone I know who might be sober enough to tell me where the bus is parked to I can find it, get my jacket and ticket to get in the ground. It can only be divine intervention that I happen to spot a couple of the lads going through the turnstile and I manage to stop them and they tell me (approximately) where the bus is. I sprint back to that vicinity and eventually find the bus, get on, and ticket finally in hand.

 

Back to the turnstile and get to my seat about 15 minutes after K.O.

 

What a fvckin pa-lava. And we lose. And those Blackburn cvnts are waving wads of cash at us through their bus windows on the way back.

 

Shite day but Derby a few years later made it all worth while 

 

  

[urban.spaceman]

10 hours ago, koop. said:

Here's one about a mate...

 

He stayed over at one of our other mates houses after a night out (this is going back some time so we all still lived with the parents) got up in the middle of the night to try and find the toilet. Pitch black he walked into the wrong room and pissed all over his little sister as she was sleeping. 

 

Needless to say she woke up screaming, he ran away in just his boxers to his own house and never went back there again

 

Ridiculous on every level 

“Mate”

[UpTheLeagueFox]

19 hours ago, Izzy said:

I didn't see much of Rob after that...

Was Rob in the same class as us at school?

 

10 hours ago, koop. said:

Here's one about a mate...

He ... pissed all over his little sister as she was sleeping. 

Yeahhhhhhh. Definitely a "mate" and not you  (only messing!)

[Izzy]

3 minutes ago, UpTheLeagueFox said:

Was Rob in the same class as us at school?

 

Yep, the one we talked about on DM a while ago!

[Guest Electric Yetis]

39 minutes ago, Izzy said:

The traffic had suddenly decided to start flowing again and the bus is now nowhere to be seen. Fvck! my keys, wallet, ticket, phone and fags are all in my jacket pocket - on the bus. I start running up the road in a desperate attempt to catch up with a bus I can't see and I don't even know what company it is.

 

 

You had a phone in '92?

[EastAnglianFox]

27 minutes ago, pds said:

 

You had a phone in '92?

 

He did, I managed to snap him outside the Leicester end before he took off with the rest of the Baby Squad

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Izzy]

30 minutes ago, pds said:

 

You had a phone in '92?

May have been the year after actually.

 

My first phone was the Sony 333 'mars bar' like this and it was released in '93 I think.

 

 

 

I worked for Dixons back then and got a special staff offer on it. Great phone 

[Guest Electric Yetis]

Just now, Izzy said:

May have been the year after actually.

 

My first phone was the Sony 333 'mars bar' like this and it was released in '93 I think.

 

 

 

I worked for Dixons back then and got a special staff offer on it. Great phone 

Ha, wasn't doubting it. Was just thinking it must have been like a breeze block. 

[simFox]

2 hours ago, Izzy said:

Talking of being drunk and needing a piss....

 

Play off final v Blackburn. One of the lads arranges a 52 seat bus from Lutterworth to Wembley leaving at 9am. We all meet in the pub at 7am for breakfast and straight on the ale. By the time we leave, most of us are already half cut - a good start to the day 

 

Bus heads off down the M1 and we all crack open the tinnies. Eventually the bus stops at Toddington services and there's thousands of Leicester there and I cba to queue up for a piss and figure I can hold on until we get to the twin towers 

 

As soon as we're back on the M1 I desperately need a piss - sods law. The traffic is slowing and we're still an hour away - not sure I can hold it in. There's a few women and kids on the bus so I don't really want to flop the old fella out and piss in a can and even if I do, I'm so drunk I'll probably cut my bell end on the ring pull.

 

We're now about a mile from Wembley and in a traffic jam - here's my chance. I decide to hop off the bus, shoot down an alley, drain the main vain, then hop back on the bus while it's at a standstill - sorted. I make my run for it, head off behind a bush and start the longest marathon piss I've ever had. Must have lasted at least a minute and the release was bliss. I zip up and head back to the bus - but it's gone!

 

The traffic had suddenly decided to start flowing again and the bus is now nowhere to be seen. Fvck! my keys, wallet, ticket, phone and fags are all in my jacket pocket - on the bus. I start running up the road in a desperate attempt to catch up with a bus I can't see and I don't even know what company it is.

 

Eventually I stagger to Wembley coach park and there's literally hundreds of fvckin buses there. I've no idea what colour bus it is, what make it is or what the bus driver looks like. It's 10 mins to kick off and I'm screwed. 

 

I decide to run around the outside of the Leicester end in desperate hope of seeing someone I know who might be sober enough to tell me where the bus is parked to I can find it, get my jacket and ticket to get in the ground. It can only be divine intervention that I happen to spot a couple of the lads going through the turnstile and I manage to stop them and they tell me (approximately) where the bus is. I sprint back to that vicinity and eventually find the bus, get on, and ticket finally in hand.

 

Back to the turnstile and get to my seat about 15 minutes after K.O.

 

What a fvckin pa-lava. And we lose. And those Blackburn cvnts are waving wads of cash at us through their bus windows on the way back.

 

Shite day but Derby a few years later made it all worth while 

 

  

I remember the lutterworth lads all hiring the same orange Tallis wagon as us and if we saw it we'd do something to it, I think we put one on bricks, then came back to our own bus to find it drenched in piss. Happy days!