Mr Chris wrote:
I have never been drunk, so I cannot participate in this discussion.
Lies, lies, and lies.
I'll mention but a few things
-tequila
- inability to put on own coat
- inability to argue about Vin Diesel.
- Pizza
I can't remember. Ask Steve of Northrn Darkness, he was there.
Davydd Grimm wrote:
I can't remember. Ask Steve of Northrn Darkness, he was there.
Well put it this, way, we had to carry him back from the pub at 8-30, then call an ambulance. What a jolly time that was.
Also,
Edit - I'm sure he'll have a story or two about me if he can be arsed!
1996. Stupid office meal thing. The plan was to meet at the restaurant about 7:30, but a few of us lived too far away for that to be sensible. So we went to the pub beforehand.
This turned out to be an error, as the only other non-locals turned out to be the horrifyingly personality-free boss and her tedious supervisory underling. For two hours I listened to their mind-numbing honeymoon anecdotes, whilst they bought me Newcastle Brown.
Inevitable outcome: We all met at the restaurant, we ordered our food, I threw up on the table before the food arrived. Classy.
But the best bit was...
The restaurant was full, so no other tables were available. The staff cleaned up and everyone had to eat at the same table.
I'd gone by that time but I was reliably informed that several people had lost their appetites.
This turned out to be an error, as the only other non-locals turned out to be the horrifyingly personality-free boss and her tedious supervisory underling. For two hours I listened to their mind-numbing honeymoon anecdotes, whilst they bought me Newcastle Brown.
Inevitable outcome: We all met at the restaurant, we ordered our food, I threw up on the table before the food arrived. Classy.
But the best bit was...
The restaurant was full, so no other tables were available. The staff cleaned up and everyone had to eat at the same table.
I'd gone by that time but I was reliably informed that several people had lost their appetites.
Much too sodding long-winded before, this is better. I have another similar story if nobody is offended, yeah. But that one is never believed (unnecessarily), to my ire - CUS.
Phoenix Festival, 1995. Miss meeting up with schoolchums until 2nd day. The first night, I take what I think is one tab of acid, but it's really four, not cut up. I take them - I think they were pre-licked, or just weak, because I was okay, really...
So, I took them and go off to see The Prodigy. I started to feel.. diffrent, kind of sweaty but not. Prickly. I became engrossed just standing there, watching. By the time Firestarter came on, I was totally transfixed. Keith bounced on stage, looking manic. His face filled both of the big TV screens beside the stage. When he starting singing 'I'm a firestarter. Twisted firestarter' he seemed to be looking right at me, burning a whole of uncomfortable fear. Someone beside me said 'Hey kid, dance, you'll have more fun!'. I whimpered a bit, in fear again. I knew that Keith Flint was making no idle threat. If I didn't start showing some appreciation, he'd burn the whole place down, and fry us inside. With his special firestarting powers.
So, I started flapping and jumping around even more badly than usual, trying to show how eager I was. I know I saw the whole of their set, but I don't remember what happened next. I just remember being terrified that we were all going to die because I wasn't dancing. I was later fine, and really enjoyed seeing Neil Young headline (I just remember 'Like A Hurricane' and 'Cinnamon Girl' being awesome stuff, I'm not really a fan...)
CUS does not condone going out and trying acid now
Phoenix Festival, 1995. Miss meeting up with schoolchums until 2nd day. The first night, I take what I think is one tab of acid, but it's really four, not cut up. I take them - I think they were pre-licked, or just weak, because I was okay, really...
So, I took them and go off to see The Prodigy. I started to feel.. diffrent, kind of sweaty but not. Prickly. I became engrossed just standing there, watching. By the time Firestarter came on, I was totally transfixed. Keith bounced on stage, looking manic. His face filled both of the big TV screens beside the stage. When he starting singing 'I'm a firestarter. Twisted firestarter' he seemed to be looking right at me, burning a whole of uncomfortable fear. Someone beside me said 'Hey kid, dance, you'll have more fun!'. I whimpered a bit, in fear again. I knew that Keith Flint was making no idle threat. If I didn't start showing some appreciation, he'd burn the whole place down, and fry us inside. With his special firestarting powers.
So, I started flapping and jumping around even more badly than usual, trying to show how eager I was. I know I saw the whole of their set, but I don't remember what happened next. I just remember being terrified that we were all going to die because I wasn't dancing. I was later fine, and really enjoyed seeing Neil Young headline (I just remember 'Like A Hurricane' and 'Cinnamon Girl' being awesome stuff, I'm not really a fan...)
CUS does not condone going out and trying acid now
Quote:
whilst they bought me Newcastle Brown.
They don't sound so bad!
Major kudos for marring such a typically awful arrangement, though.
Dr. A's is awesome. And it reminds me of a non-drug related incident, hoorah!
It was on Newkie (y'see), and a bunch of us had just finished school so were getting pissed and camping out in a mate's family's back-field (it's all fields where I'm from). We were all getting lashed, and no sooner had I finished yelling at Alex for puking in the corner of the family-size tent than we all started, including me. Me most of all - and the only thing I'd eaten that day was a big bag of 'tangy' Twiglets. The smell of Newcastle Brown + a bag of Worcester sauce flavoured wheat snacks, inside a warm tent? Not appealing. We all moved outside, and Dan decided to pick up the fire a bit as it was a cold night. He did this by picking up the can of petrol and pouring it into the fire - I sat bolt upright and shouted 'NO!' just as he freaked out, the flame travelling up towards the can. He chucked it wildly, it glanced off me and twatted Alex right in the face, breaking his nose. Then the fire - yes - spread to the freshly-mown grass that was everywhere around us. We desperately trying pissin on it and kicking about a bit, but it was no good, and it was rapidly all around us, very cinematically. Luckily, the kid whose house it was had run up quickly to the house, and hooked up the garden hose. It was okay. Except, the tent - his Dad's very expensive professional kit - had been by the fire, and the zip had completely melted shut, and warped the tent badly. The lad (I forget his name) then freaked because he realised we'd all left various drugs (sorry, boring...) and tins of booze inside the tent. So he ended up trying to carefully open the zip somehow - which went from resisting to wildly tearing open through the weak melting plastic, tearing a 3 foor hole in the side. The next morning, we carefully stufed it back into its container, and staggered off. Dan burned his hand a bit, Alex broke his nose, whatisface ruined a hugely expensive tent, and I puked up Twiglets everywhere. It was excellent.
It was on Newkie (y'see), and a bunch of us had just finished school so were getting pissed and camping out in a mate's family's back-field (it's all fields where I'm from). We were all getting lashed, and no sooner had I finished yelling at Alex for puking in the corner of the family-size tent than we all started, including me. Me most of all - and the only thing I'd eaten that day was a big bag of 'tangy' Twiglets. The smell of Newcastle Brown + a bag of Worcester sauce flavoured wheat snacks, inside a warm tent? Not appealing. We all moved outside, and Dan decided to pick up the fire a bit as it was a cold night. He did this by picking up the can of petrol and pouring it into the fire - I sat bolt upright and shouted 'NO!' just as he freaked out, the flame travelling up towards the can. He chucked it wildly, it glanced off me and twatted Alex right in the face, breaking his nose. Then the fire - yes - spread to the freshly-mown grass that was everywhere around us. We desperately trying pissin on it and kicking about a bit, but it was no good, and it was rapidly all around us, very cinematically. Luckily, the kid whose house it was had run up quickly to the house, and hooked up the garden hose. It was okay. Except, the tent - his Dad's very expensive professional kit - had been by the fire, and the zip had completely melted shut, and warped the tent badly. The lad (I forget his name) then freaked because he realised we'd all left various drugs (sorry, boring...) and tins of booze inside the tent. So he ended up trying to carefully open the zip somehow - which went from resisting to wildly tearing open through the weak melting plastic, tearing a 3 foor hole in the side. The next morning, we carefully stufed it back into its container, and staggered off. Dan burned his hand a bit, Alex broke his nose, whatisface ruined a hugely expensive tent, and I puked up Twiglets everywhere. It was excellent.
I remember about 7 or 8 years ago coming home one night slightly battered on E's and acid.Anyway i was slumped on the sofa waiting for my housemate to come home and turn the tv on for me and i sort of gradually become aware of a 'crowd' reaction to everthing i did.
Say, scratching my nose or raising an eyebrow would receive a golf clap while patting the dog on the head or something would get a cheer and stuff.
Thing is, at the time it was an incredibly unsettling experience and reduced me to sitting like a statue.I also distinctly remember resisting the urge to go to the toilet for fear of being heckled.
Also everytime i used go to bed after i'd had a pill i became convinced i could see through my eyelids.Oddly enough it was a very pleasant experience.
Say, scratching my nose or raising an eyebrow would receive a golf clap while patting the dog on the head or something would get a cheer and stuff.
Thing is, at the time it was an incredibly unsettling experience and reduced me to sitting like a statue.I also distinctly remember resisting the urge to go to the toilet for fear of being heckled.
Also everytime i used go to bed after i'd had a pill i became convinced i could see through my eyelids.Oddly enough it was a very pleasant experience.
The best I've got is necking 18 bottles of beer on an empty stomach while very dehydrated over about 2 hours at the SU venue* before passing out while walking down some steps. Came to, refused to get up because I'd "broken my ankle", resulting in all six bouncers having to carry me outside (very drunk, limply uncooperative, butter monster). The last thing I remember (extremely vaguely) is the ambulance arriving.
Which is good, because I'm told what happened next was copious vomiting all over the x-ray room (closing it) at Stafford A&E before being thrown out (of hospital! Awesome!), and my friends having to pay a £30 deposit before a taxi would take me home.
The next thing I remember is getting out of bed at 1.30pm the next day and nearly collapsing from the crippling pain in my (sprained) ankle before wondering where the uncomfortably tight compression sock had come from.
* I could consume heroic quantities of beer back then - not alky, just stupidly tolerant. And extremely fat. 8 pints and still sober, 10-14 pints on a quiet night out, which was most nights. When visiting my sister in Manchester it'd take 12 500ml bottles of Grolsch on an empty stomach before I was uninhibited enough to dance. Always entertaining when people tried to drink-for-drink me instead of letting me get on with '2 of my own between rounds'.
Which is good, because I'm told what happened next was copious vomiting all over the x-ray room (closing it) at Stafford A&E before being thrown out (of hospital! Awesome!), and my friends having to pay a £30 deposit before a taxi would take me home.
The next thing I remember is getting out of bed at 1.30pm the next day and nearly collapsing from the crippling pain in my (sprained) ankle before wondering where the uncomfortably tight compression sock had come from.
* I could consume heroic quantities of beer back then - not alky, just stupidly tolerant. And extremely fat. 8 pints and still sober, 10-14 pints on a quiet night out, which was most nights. When visiting my sister in Manchester it'd take 12 500ml bottles of Grolsch on an empty stomach before I was uninhibited enough to dance. Always entertaining when people tried to drink-for-drink me instead of letting me get on with '2 of my own between rounds'.
MaliA wrote:
Lost a car
Last year, went to watch the TdF with my father in London on his birthday, went to EvE party afterwards, left there at about 11pm, got a cab somewhere, went and had a couple of other pints somewhere else, got back to hotel. Woke up at 3am really needing a wee, got out of bed, stmbled for the door, went through it, my brain registers "this is not the bathroom" to here door lock shut behind me. I am now standing naked in a hotel corridor and locked out. The lift ride down to reception was interesting, but I got a key off the girls there and all was well. There are no furnishings in hotel corridors, you see, to cover my modesty.
Last year, went to watch the TdF with my father in London on his birthday, went to EvE party afterwards, left there at about 11pm, got a cab somewhere, went and had a couple of other pints somewhere else, got back to hotel. Woke up at 3am really needing a wee, got out of bed, stmbled for the door, went through it, my brain registers "this is not the bathroom" to here door lock shut behind me. I am now standing naked in a hotel corridor and locked out. The lift ride down to reception was interesting, but I got a key off the girls there and all was well. There are no furnishings in hotel corridors, you see, to cover my modesty.
I have a friend who used to work in hotel management. Apparently, that happens at least once every night in a large-ish hotel.
I could drink-for-drink you, Bik. To my slight embarassment. I've decided to stop more out of the boredom of my speed/frequency becoming the main topic of conversation amongst friends when we're out together, rather than because of any ill effects. I'll probably still imbibe copious amounts at the weekends, mind you. It's just the worrying "mini-sesh before lecture" that I need to cut out of my life.
I also need to stop posting and come back when I have a funny story!
I also need to stop posting and come back when I have a funny story!
Oh, it certainly doesn't work like that anymore, although I do still drink quickly, for hours and hours, and usually end up least-pissed of everyone involved. My liver would undoubtably tear a hole in my side and run off screaming if I tried drinking like my 19-25 year old self now.
The "drinking quickly" is what spawned the tolerance, rather than the other way round. I drink everything quickly - I'm literally physically and mentally incapable of not quaffing my drinks. I'm on vodka tonight, a single-ish mixed up with a can of Diet Coke. I could idly get through most of the litre bottle before 3am if I weren't constantly reminding myself that I don't want to. Which just means drawing out the glass-empty bit for as long as possible.
The "drinking quickly" is what spawned the tolerance, rather than the other way round. I drink everything quickly - I'm literally physically and mentally incapable of not quaffing my drinks. I'm on vodka tonight, a single-ish mixed up with a can of Diet Coke. I could idly get through most of the litre bottle before 3am if I weren't constantly reminding myself that I don't want to. Which just means drawing out the glass-empty bit for as long as possible.
Haha, I'm exactly the same. Although I've replaced cider with water, I've noticed no decrease in the speed at which I throw it down my gullet. I feel like I'm making trips to the bog every 5 minutes. Woe!
While I've never (yet) managed to lock myself out of a hotel room (at least not for drunken reasons anyway), I did manage to "find myself" locked out of my student accomodation a couple of times.
The first time, having returned from a night out, I obviously changed my mind at the last minute about going to bed and decided to go out. I have no idea where I went, if anywhere (we were on the 3rd floor), but I found myself locked out the flat wearing only my jeans (with empty pockets). After alternating between my own flat and the neighbouring flat, I managed to get someone to let me in next door where I had to sleep in the kitchen. Unfortunately, each room had their own private bathroom, so when I needed to go, I had to use their kitchen sink, which was still full of saucepans.
Another time, we had been to some sort of student ball, so I was dressed very smartly when I found myself at our front door. I'd obviously already been home as my jacket pockets were stuffed full of cutlery and the remote control to our tv, but I obviously didn't have room for my keys as well. It was also light by this time, so I have no idea where I might have been.
The first time, having returned from a night out, I obviously changed my mind at the last minute about going to bed and decided to go out. I have no idea where I went, if anywhere (we were on the 3rd floor), but I found myself locked out the flat wearing only my jeans (with empty pockets). After alternating between my own flat and the neighbouring flat, I managed to get someone to let me in next door where I had to sleep in the kitchen. Unfortunately, each room had their own private bathroom, so when I needed to go, I had to use their kitchen sink, which was still full of saucepans.
Another time, we had been to some sort of student ball, so I was dressed very smartly when I found myself at our front door. I'd obviously already been home as my jacket pockets were stuffed full of cutlery and the remote control to our tv, but I obviously didn't have room for my keys as well. It was also light by this time, so I have no idea where I might have been.
I found myself locked out of my halls of residence in my knickers once. I had to walk to the Porter's Lodge in the rain and I stood on a frog in my bare feet.
I was completely sober, though.
I was completely sober, though.
I went through a period when strangers often approached me when I was ineberated asking if "I was alright?". I would usually reply with a rather annoyed grunt to the affirmative at which point they would ask me again...and again until I either blanked them or told them to get lost in a forthright manner.
It only occurred to me sometime later, after a particularly close shave with violence ,that they were asking if "I had a light?".
It only occurred to me sometime later, after a particularly close shave with violence ,that they were asking if "I had a light?".
BikNorton wrote:
My liver would undoubtably tear a hole in my side and run off screaming...
My favourite saying of this is "If I drink any more, my liver will form a fist and punch me in the face."
richardgaywood wrote:
All my too-much-drink stories revolve around vodka, and result in total memory loss. There are several house parties where I have about 20 minutes of memories that span 9pm and 2am.
I have arrived too late to make some kind of 'I won't relate bad tales about you if you won't relate any about me' pact.
MetalAngel wrote:
richardgaywood wrote:
All my too-much-drink stories revolve around vodka, and result in total memory loss. There are several house parties where I have about 20 minutes of memories that span 9pm and 2am.
I have arrived too late to make some kind of 'I won't relate bad tales about you if you won't relate any about me' pact.
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