What's the stupidest thing you have done whilst a wee bit tipsy?
Anything this stupid?
List your funny/embarrassing drunkenness stories here.
Anything this stupid?
List your funny/embarrassing drunkenness stories here.
Pretended to be a speed bump.
Ask the Live crew...
I ended up at a party in an empty all-female boarding school during a summer holiday, and urinated on a tv in the middle of the night.
I'd never been that drunk before, and haven't since. What a monumentally stupid, hilarious thing to do.
I'd never been that drunk before, and haven't since. What a monumentally stupid, hilarious thing to do.
One memorable and unworthy incident for me, which is quite ironic as I was never a super-heavy drinker during uni.
Got back into Manchester one day having been somewhere, and met my mates in the pub straight from the train station. Hadn't had a jot of food all day and swiftly downed several pints. Cue an utterly absurd level of drunkenness so much so that I ended up calling 999, convinced I was going to die.
Despite being extremely drunk the operator commented that my voice wasn't slurred or anything.
Anyway, ambulance dutifully arrived, and took me *across the road* where the hospital was. They did a quick pin-prick blood test, confirmed I wasn't actually half as drunk as I thought, and sent me home.
Whole think took about 6 hours and by the end of it I was feeling much better. Duuuuuuh.
Got back into Manchester one day having been somewhere, and met my mates in the pub straight from the train station. Hadn't had a jot of food all day and swiftly downed several pints. Cue an utterly absurd level of drunkenness so much so that I ended up calling 999, convinced I was going to die.
Despite being extremely drunk the operator commented that my voice wasn't slurred or anything.
Anyway, ambulance dutifully arrived, and took me *across the road* where the hospital was. They did a quick pin-prick blood test, confirmed I wasn't actually half as drunk as I thought, and sent me home.
Whole think took about 6 hours and by the end of it I was feeling much better. Duuuuuuh.
Too many embarrassing things to mention.
I once played some prank on someone (can't remember what) and ran away from them, and started walking home. The wrong way. I didn't realise I was walking out of town, and that I was actually in dartmoor! Luckily I stumbled across a cab,, and I got in, the driver took me back to Exeter, and it cost something like £15 to get back and argued that they were conning me because I was so drunk.
This was my journey
Malc
This was my journey
Malc
Broke my finger punching a door.
Twice.
Twice.
Spinglo Sponglo! wrote:
I once played some prank on someone (can't remember what) and ran away from them, and started walking home. The wrong way. I didn't realise I was walking out of town, and that I was actually in dartmoor! Luckily I stumbled across a cab,, and I got in, the driver took me back to Exeter, and it cost something like £15 to get back and argued that they were conning me because I was so drunk.
This was my journey
Malc
This was my journey
Malc
You walked for 7 miles before it occured to you you were in the wrong place?
myoptika wrote:
Too many embarrassing things to mention.
I should post the photos...
I hate having real life friends on here.
I'm keeping my mouth shut too.
I can't think of anything all that interesting I've done, but I did have to rescue a very drunk friend (who had fallen from standing onto a solid concrete floor, head first, with an audible crack, and not noticed) from a bunch of skinheads he kept stumbling into and mumbling "I'M FINE I'M NOT DRUNK I'M FINE". Fortunately they seemed to be a benign strand.
Dimrill wrote:
Ask the Live crew...
myoptika wrote:
Too many embarrassing things to mention.
Zardoz wrote:
I'm keeping my mouth shut too.
Best thread ever!
ComicalGnomes wrote:
Malc wrote:
I once played some prank on someone (can't remember what) and ran away from them, and started walking home. The wrong way. I didn't realise I was walking out of town, and that I was actually in dartmoor! Luckily I stumbled across a cab,, and I got in, the driver took me back to Exeter, and it cost something like £15 to get back and argued that they were conning me because I was so drunk.
This was my journey
Malc
This was my journey
Malc
You walked for 7 miles before it occured to you you were in the wrong place?
Yes, well I started to worry before that, but I just assumed that I was somewhere else and if I kept on walking then I would be ok. I dread to think what would have happened if that cab wasn't there. I probably would have ended up about 30 miles away at day break.
Malc
Lost a car
Almost got arrested skinny dipping in Iowa at 2am the night before my mate's wedding (I was best man and he was with me)
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.
Almost got arrested skinny dipping in Iowa at 2am the night before my mate's wedding (I was best man and he was with me)
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.
MaliA wrote:
Lost a car
Almost got arrested skinny dipping in Iowa at 2am the night before my mate's wedding (I was best man and he was with me)
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.
Almost got arrested skinny dipping in Iowa at 2am the night before my mate's wedding (I was best man and he was with me)
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.
Cast your mind back to the day England played Poland to qualify for the world cup in 2006. On that day four of us from work were on a training course up near Leeds. We went to the pub to watch the football, and then abused the hotel bar and got very drunk. We were messing about outside our rooms, knocking on each others doors and stuff, just when I thought it was all over I was getting changed when my door was knocked on again, so in my boxer shorts and t-shirt I went to see who it was, I took my key with me, as I didn't want to get locked out. I shut my door, and went to bang on the guys door that I thought had commited the crime. But there was no response, so I went to get back into my room, put the key in. And snap the key broke off in the lock. So I tried to get someones attention, but everyone must have thought It was part of the game and was ignoring me. Then I needed to go to the loo, so I went looking for one, and found one in an otherwise empty part of the hotel, Where I needed to be sick, I then fell asleep on some couch and woke up still in the middle of night, so I went downstairs to explain the situation to the night porter, who essentially kicked in the door. I then somehow broke the window in the bathroom by leaning on it. The next day we went to the training course all hung over, and when we got to the first break I was going to be sick again, so I went to the bath room, and locked myself in. I just could not open the door to get out. I had managed to break another lock. I managed to get out of there eventually, but there was much piss taking of me for the next few months. I got an offical warning from work for bringing the name of the company into disrepute for that. And had to pay damages. Bastards. I guess this could go in the costly mistakes thread as well.
Malc
I think Craig turned the wrong way out of a nightclub and walked miles out of town once, too, Malc. 
This story will only work if you know the geography of London. Feel free to follow it on google maps...
A year or two ago I got absolutely hammered watching a band play in Hoxton. They were great, but they were so late going on that I was wasted by the time it happened. I then decided to walk at least some of the way home, at 2am. I live in Greenwich, so that would have taken me quite a few hours, but it seemed like a sensible thing to do at the time.
After an hour or two of wandering around, I wasn't sure where I was, but luckily I stumbled across a couple of cops in a car. I composed myself and asked them politely if I was anywhere near Island Gardens, as the surroundings looked familiar. If I was, then it'd only take another 20 minutes or so to get home... 25 tops.
Alas, they informed me that I was nowhere near that location. I was in fact in Islington. Oops. That's further away from home than when I started walking.
I tried walking home again, blissfully unaware of where I was, and eventually worked out that yes, I had no bloody idea where I was. I got a cab, and there ends my memory of the night.
I woek up the next morning feeling like dirt, and also with the conundrum. I had no cash on me when I left the club, and no cash on me upon arriving home... so had I gone to cash point and taken some out, or had I done a shameful runner (I wouldn't have bet that I could outpace a drunken slug at that point)... or had I just bludgeoned the cab driver to death and carefully disposed of the body.
After a nervous weekend, it turned out that, yes, at about four in the morning I had taken out forty quid from a cashpoint in Greenwich.
DOH!
A year or two ago I got absolutely hammered watching a band play in Hoxton. They were great, but they were so late going on that I was wasted by the time it happened. I then decided to walk at least some of the way home, at 2am. I live in Greenwich, so that would have taken me quite a few hours, but it seemed like a sensible thing to do at the time.
After an hour or two of wandering around, I wasn't sure where I was, but luckily I stumbled across a couple of cops in a car. I composed myself and asked them politely if I was anywhere near Island Gardens, as the surroundings looked familiar. If I was, then it'd only take another 20 minutes or so to get home... 25 tops.
Alas, they informed me that I was nowhere near that location. I was in fact in Islington. Oops. That's further away from home than when I started walking.
I tried walking home again, blissfully unaware of where I was, and eventually worked out that yes, I had no bloody idea where I was. I got a cab, and there ends my memory of the night.
I woek up the next morning feeling like dirt, and also with the conundrum. I had no cash on me when I left the club, and no cash on me upon arriving home... so had I gone to cash point and taken some out, or had I done a shameful runner (I wouldn't have bet that I could outpace a drunken slug at that point)... or had I just bludgeoned the cab driver to death and carefully disposed of the body.
After a nervous weekend, it turned out that, yes, at about four in the morning I had taken out forty quid from a cashpoint in Greenwich.
DOH!
I remember going out for my mates 17th birthday who didnt come out because he was knackered or some abysmal excuse so me and my mates went out without him with me drinking double drinks to take his place, it sounded like a good idea at the time. The rest of the night was a bit blurry, I could have possibly been spiked and probably was but the whole drinking double stuff is also viable. Things I can remember being in a club with a pint doing a delboy falling down backwards onto my back even though tere wasnt anything to lean on in the first place and getting off with some lass I despised from maths.
And then I woke up in bed with a small amount of sick on my pillow, I woke up in all my clothes, covered in mud and with all the casing and buttons missing from my cheap nokia phone. My neighbour apparently found sleeping in the middle of the road. eep.
And another time I broke my little finger, I had been playing fight night 3 a bit around the time and anyone who plays it will have fond memories of the slow motion blammer punches. walking home from a long night out we walk past a few plastic bins on lamp posts and I thought I could break one of them but instead it broke my little finger. Oh also that night there was a church being knocked down and we were going to jump over the fence to see if it was like a Gears of War type of location until my mate jumped up the fence with his hands only to get lovely spikes over all his fingers.
Ive got too many to be honest.
And then I woke up in bed with a small amount of sick on my pillow, I woke up in all my clothes, covered in mud and with all the casing and buttons missing from my cheap nokia phone. My neighbour apparently found sleeping in the middle of the road. eep.
And another time I broke my little finger, I had been playing fight night 3 a bit around the time and anyone who plays it will have fond memories of the slow motion blammer punches. walking home from a long night out we walk past a few plastic bins on lamp posts and I thought I could break one of them but instead it broke my little finger. Oh also that night there was a church being knocked down and we were going to jump over the fence to see if it was like a Gears of War type of location until my mate jumped up the fence with his hands only to get lovely spikes over all his fingers.
Ive got too many to be honest.
Oh, I got a chest infection by wandering around Manchester all through one March night without many clothes on. I didn't feel a thing at the time as I was very drunk indeed and was having such a brilliant time. I can't remember exactly what was so brilliant, but I'm sure it was.
One night I went out with some chums, and woke up the next day at one of their houses, having no clue how I got there.
I was sharing a room with two single beds, and the other guy (Mattybee) was asleep in the other one. I woke him up, because we both had the same weekend job to go to, and it was already 7.30am.
Mattybee thanked me for letting him sleep over, and I realised that it wasn't his house we was in.
Turns out we were in a B&B. On the Welsh side of Chepstow.
We had no money, so we basically lied to the people at the B&B about wanting to stay another night and got in my car (which was in the carpark - we still don't know who drove it there as the keys were in it) and fucked off toward England.
We stopped at a payphone to tell our boss we would be late (no mobiles in those days), and eventually arrived about three hours later.
Awesomely, we left behind another of our mates who was out with us and had his own room - we simply didn't know he was there. He got lumbered with the bill!
I was sharing a room with two single beds, and the other guy (Mattybee) was asleep in the other one. I woke him up, because we both had the same weekend job to go to, and it was already 7.30am.
Mattybee thanked me for letting him sleep over, and I realised that it wasn't his house we was in.
Turns out we were in a B&B. On the Welsh side of Chepstow.
We had no money, so we basically lied to the people at the B&B about wanting to stay another night and got in my car (which was in the carpark - we still don't know who drove it there as the keys were in it) and fucked off toward England.
We stopped at a payphone to tell our boss we would be late (no mobiles in those days), and eventually arrived about three hours later.
Awesomely, we left behind another of our mates who was out with us and had his own room - we simply didn't know he was there. He got lumbered with the bill!
I'm sure I've related this story before, but here it is again...
The night after my last exams in 1st year of uni, we go out for drinks, and several beers, shooters, cocktails, whiskeys and WKDs* later, I'm thrown out of the uni bar as I was found in one of the toilet cubicles hurling abuse at people under the door. (I do not remember this)
My memory, for the most part ends with me lying on a table, getting poked by one of my coursemates (called Genghis**, fact fans) sitting up, and then toppling over onto my head. I do not remember getting thrown off my chair later. I do not remember getting thrown out. I do not remember my friend Pete trying to get a taxi to accept me as a passenger.
I do, however, remember running from the taxi to the toilet. I then also remember leaving the toilet a few hours later to go straight to bed.
Unfortunately, that is not what happened. Apparently, I took it upon myself to send out emails. Needless to say, they were completely unreadable.
I also took it upon myself to fill my bin, my shoes, my drawers and my keyboard with some manner of liquid. The first I knew of this was the next morning when my keyboard wouldn't work, and so I picked it up to look at it and got a lapful of what was probably water.
I had no hangover.
* - these were horrible. But I kept ordering something that was out of stock as I was too drunk to remember, and so kept getting given WKDs.
** - Dave. But renamed to Genghis
The night after my last exams in 1st year of uni, we go out for drinks, and several beers, shooters, cocktails, whiskeys and WKDs* later, I'm thrown out of the uni bar as I was found in one of the toilet cubicles hurling abuse at people under the door. (I do not remember this)
My memory, for the most part ends with me lying on a table, getting poked by one of my coursemates (called Genghis**, fact fans) sitting up, and then toppling over onto my head. I do not remember getting thrown off my chair later. I do not remember getting thrown out. I do not remember my friend Pete trying to get a taxi to accept me as a passenger.
I do, however, remember running from the taxi to the toilet. I then also remember leaving the toilet a few hours later to go straight to bed.
Unfortunately, that is not what happened. Apparently, I took it upon myself to send out emails. Needless to say, they were completely unreadable.
I also took it upon myself to fill my bin, my shoes, my drawers and my keyboard with some manner of liquid. The first I knew of this was the next morning when my keyboard wouldn't work, and so I picked it up to look at it and got a lapful of what was probably water.
I had no hangover.
* - these were horrible. But I kept ordering something that was out of stock as I was too drunk to remember, and so kept getting given WKDs.
** - Dave. But renamed to Genghis
My mate did this:
and then this:
and then this:
(look at his left foot)
and then this:
and then this:
(look at his left foot)
I remember being at my cousin's birthday party with a load of friends when one very drunken Steven Matteson said his goodbyes and left at about 1am. The rest of us partied hard and fell asleep in one dishevelled lump at about 6am. After a spot of breakfast at about 11am we all made our way to leave to find Steven curled up under a bush in the garden fast asleep. What makes this story weirder is that my cousin's birthday is January 11th - not a time of year known for it's mild evenings. Ouch.
The same party also had the funny sight of a lad I knew standing. leaning up against the kitchen door. Closer inspection found him to be snoring, fast asleep. Until then I didn't know it possible to sleep standing up - I thought your legs would have just folded under you.
The same party also had the funny sight of a lad I knew standing. leaning up against the kitchen door. Closer inspection found him to be snoring, fast asleep. Until then I didn't know it possible to sleep standing up - I thought your legs would have just folded under you.
Grim... wrote:
My mate did this:
and then this:
and then this:
(look at his left foot)
and then this:
and then this:
(look at his left foot)
Uh- oh
I bet he's glad you all took some great pictures of his misery though
Wow, you're mates with batman?
We used to drink and smoke in my mate's mum's garage when we were in our teens. It had a couple of settees in it, a drumkit, a few marshall amps and guitars etc. A sort of rehearsal room/ crack den if you will. To set the ambiance, we'd sometimes light a few candles (gay) as well, and then just sit up until the morning getting smashed out of our heads.
One night I woke up completely alone on the settee at some ungodly hour, and decided I'd go into the house for a piss, half asleep. As I was going this, a strange thought entered my head. Had the garage been...on fire? I quickly finished up, jogged back to the garage, and sure enough, it was an inferno. During the 2 minutes I'd been in the toilet, the settee I'd been sitting on had also caught, and flames were hitting the ceiling. I raced upstairs and woke everyone up, and we managed to get it under control by lugging buckets of water all over it (amps included, which was a bit silly but we were sort of panicking). But yeah, almost died that time.
One night I woke up completely alone on the settee at some ungodly hour, and decided I'd go into the house for a piss, half asleep. As I was going this, a strange thought entered my head. Had the garage been...on fire? I quickly finished up, jogged back to the garage, and sure enough, it was an inferno. During the 2 minutes I'd been in the toilet, the settee I'd been sitting on had also caught, and flames were hitting the ceiling. I raced upstairs and woke everyone up, and we managed to get it under control by lugging buckets of water all over it (amps included, which was a bit silly but we were sort of panicking). But yeah, almost died that time.
That series of photos looks like a normal night out...
Haven't done anything funny/stupid/embarassing whilst drunk (nothing I wouldn't do anyway...). If the topic can be widely slightly to 'How intoxicated', I have at least two excellent stories...
When i was in Finland, we were in a Sauna in the middle of the street (it was in the between some blocks of apartments in a residential area). The Sauna was inside an old Volkwagen van. I was naked (and drunk) in the sauna when my mobile started ringing outside. I left the sauna and answered the phone without dressing anything. I have this stupid habit of walking around when i'm in the phone, so i was 15min talking, walking around naked and not noticing. Obviously, since it was finland, people probably did not found strange there was a naked man talking on the phone.
Once i wrecked a pub's wc.
Once i destroyed all the (small) trees and bushes in a public park (i was playing the: "let's mosh the bushes! game"
Not to mention the times,in my teens, i made out with not-that-attractive girls, but i guess that's not original.
Oh, and a big
for the stab in the back
Once i wrecked a pub's wc.
Once i destroyed all the (small) trees and bushes in a public park (i was playing the: "let's mosh the bushes! game"
Not to mention the times,in my teens, i made out with not-that-attractive girls, but i guess that's not original.
Oh, and a big
for the stab in the back CUS wrote:
Haven't done anything funny/stupid/embarassing whilst drunk (nothing I wouldn't do anyway...). If the topic can be widely slightly to 'How intoxicated', I have at least two excellent stories...
Mine would then increase about twenty-fold.
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. This doesn't make for a good story though so here are some others.
A friend of mine went away to Uni to Plymouth, drinking heavily one night with a group of mates. One of the group was dared to streak around Plymouth city centre. Gamely, he stripped down to just his trainers and did a lap of whatever street they were in, cheered on by his mates. When he came back he found the rest of the group had set his clothes on fire.
Oh, my step-mother is Scottish, and for a few years we had a tradition where a bunch of my mates descended on my parents to eat haggis and drink whisky. Here is my mate Tob,y my dad, and my dad's mate Tony fixing Welsh rugby -- you can clearly see Toby making point four of five things that were wrong with the team selection mechanism. Anyway, when we woke up, seriously blurred, we had pages of notes on The Plan. The Plan involved hiring a Ferrari 355 and taking it to Le Mans for the 24 hour race. We had it all figured out: the car hire, the excess mileage charge, the excess driver charge (we would split it 6 ways), the support vehicle (Toby's dad's Peugeut 806 would follow the Ferrari, carrying the non-Ferrari dwellers), the driving rota, the insurance, everything. We were all set to do it the next day. If my hangover memory serves, the final cost was a little under £1k each. We never did drive a Ferrari to Le Mans.
A friend of mine went away to Uni to Plymouth, drinking heavily one night with a group of mates. One of the group was dared to streak around Plymouth city centre. Gamely, he stripped down to just his trainers and did a lap of whatever street they were in, cheered on by his mates. When he came back he found the rest of the group had set his clothes on fire.
Oh, my step-mother is Scottish, and for a few years we had a tradition where a bunch of my mates descended on my parents to eat haggis and drink whisky. Here is my mate Tob,y my dad, and my dad's mate Tony fixing Welsh rugby -- you can clearly see Toby making point four of five things that were wrong with the team selection mechanism. Anyway, when we woke up, seriously blurred, we had pages of notes on The Plan. The Plan involved hiring a Ferrari 355 and taking it to Le Mans for the 24 hour race. We had it all figured out: the car hire, the excess mileage charge, the excess driver charge (we would split it 6 ways), the support vehicle (Toby's dad's Peugeut 806 would follow the Ferrari, carrying the non-Ferrari dwellers), the driving rota, the insurance, everything. We were all set to do it the next day. If my hangover memory serves, the final cost was a little under £1k each. We never did drive a Ferrari to Le Mans.
"Look, it's not big and it's not clever."
Actually, mum, I think you'll find it is.
Actually, mum, I think you'll find it is.
myoptika wrote:
CUS wrote:
Haven't done anything funny/stupid/embarassing whilst drunk (nothing I wouldn't do anyway...). If the topic can be widely slightly to 'How intoxicated', I have at least two excellent stories...
Mine would then increase about twenty-fold.
I have a high tolerance to drugs n' booze though. The ones I've tried anyway. Two stories is the correct amount, anymore means you're part of BINGE BRITAIN.
Um, good plan.
Apart from the Racing License and the €200000 entry fee.
Apart from the Racing License and the €200000 entry fee.
richardgaywood wrote:
A friend of mine went away to Uni to Plymouth, drinking heavily one night with a group of mates. One of the group was dared to streak around Plymouth city centre. Gamely, he stripped down to just his trainers and did a lap of whatever street they were in, cheered on by his mates. When he came back he found the rest of the group had set his clothes on fire.
HAHAHAHAHAHA
Excellent.
Grim... wrote:
Um, good plan.
Apart from the Racing License and the €200000 entry fee.
Oh, we were going to spectate, not race. We just thought it would be cool to drive to a motorsport event in a supercar. This was motivated to our visit to Goodwood the year previously where the car park alone boasted some astonishingly exotic cars. Apart from the Racing License and the €200000 entry fee.
...off you go!
Grim... wrote:
Um, good plan.
Apart from the Racing License and the €200000 entry fee.
Apart from the Racing License and the €200000 entry fee.
Now, I'd love to see the Top Gear crew 'do' LeMans in a hilariously unlikely vehicle. Like a Hilux. I'm sure with a bit of tinkering you could turn a Hilux into an absolute beast of a racing vehicle.
Pundabaya wrote:
Now, I'd love to see the Top Gear crew 'do' LeMans in a hilariously unlikely vehicle. Like a Hilux. I'm sure with a bit of tinkering you could turn a Hilux into an absolute beast of a racing vehicle.
The Espace F1 should be quite competitive, and a much more comfortable ride than the standard cars too. And you could carry your codriver with you, taking a snooze in the back between shifts. 
Sit back, relax and listen to (read) a tale of one my misadventures at university - I know it's long, but it's good... (if you can't be arsed, skip down to the bold to skip the back story)
In my first year I lived with a psychopath. Lets calm him 'Dick.' Here are a few of the things he did.
Basically I righteously hated him.
I basically lived in the next door flat and just went back to my flat to sleep. One time I walked into my flat so drunk I could barely stand. I slumped into a seat at the kitchen table. My nemesis was home. Also drunk out of his tiny mind. He decided to cook some liver or chicken or something, I could really tell. He got it out the fridge, and put it in the microwave. For ten seconds.
I watched. Staring at his curmudgeonly little face. He was out of it. For him hours could have passed. It pinged. He woke slightly and went to get his "dinner."
It was raw, a nice pool of blood having gathered on the plate.
'Why are you microwaving meat?' I thought 'he'll put it back'
But no, he sat down to eat it with a knife and fork, swaying, eyes unfocused. I was drunk but drunk enough to know I couldn't let him eat that. Whatever it was. It would give him food poisoning.
But I said nothing.
He started to cut it. It was completely raw on the inside. Juices oozed out.
This was it I realised. This was the moment. Am I bastard? Will I let him make himself ill, or even kill himself, just because I hate him so much. This is a defining point in my life. What kind of person am I? "Will I let him do this?" I asked myself.
He raised the fork to his lips.
And just as I had to decide what kind of person I was, before I could redeem myself and save him, his (only) friend in the house burst out of his room and bellowed at him to stop.
So I'll never know if I would have let him eat the raw meat. I'll never know...
In my first year I lived with a psychopath. Lets calm him 'Dick.' Here are a few of the things he did.
- Worked at GAME rather than actually go to uni.
- Got into drunk rages.
- On the first day we met he called my GF a "SOUTHERN, NORTHERN HATING, BASTARD!" because she was from Nottingham.
- He bought a £200 home gym because he "couldn't be arsed" to walk to the gym, which I had to carry up 6 flights of stairs and he never used.
- He Secretly obsessed about this one girl, and when we were out (which was rare) he would buy her drinks but not tell her (or indeed talk to her) and just place them near her. Where they sat undrank till we got up to leave and wondered why they were there.
- He would wake us up at 7am at the weekend to the black fucking beauty sound track. With huge amounts of bass and distortion. Or The Best of Disney. And no this wasn't in a ironic student way. This was in a "I'm very creepy way" it's another, far more serious, story for another day but, a few years after we lived together I found out he had been arrested for paedophilia but the charges dropped.
- He was racist, a sexist, and a homophobe. The last being a different story.
Basically I righteously hated him.
I basically lived in the next door flat and just went back to my flat to sleep. One time I walked into my flat so drunk I could barely stand. I slumped into a seat at the kitchen table. My nemesis was home. Also drunk out of his tiny mind. He decided to cook some liver or chicken or something, I could really tell. He got it out the fridge, and put it in the microwave. For ten seconds.
I watched. Staring at his curmudgeonly little face. He was out of it. For him hours could have passed. It pinged. He woke slightly and went to get his "dinner."
It was raw, a nice pool of blood having gathered on the plate.
'Why are you microwaving meat?' I thought 'he'll put it back'
But no, he sat down to eat it with a knife and fork, swaying, eyes unfocused. I was drunk but drunk enough to know I couldn't let him eat that. Whatever it was. It would give him food poisoning.
But I said nothing.
He started to cut it. It was completely raw on the inside. Juices oozed out.
This was it I realised. This was the moment. Am I bastard? Will I let him make himself ill, or even kill himself, just because I hate him so much. This is a defining point in my life. What kind of person am I? "Will I let him do this?" I asked myself.
He raised the fork to his lips.
And just as I had to decide what kind of person I was, before I could redeem myself and save him, his (only) friend in the house burst out of his room and bellowed at him to stop.
So I'll never know if I would have let him eat the raw meat. I'll never know...
Quote:
Mine would then increase about twenty-fold.
Haha, same here. I've only just managed to force myself to keep my drinking to the weekends (for a couple of years, I'd been kidding myself that I was just a swift drinker who could really hold his ale, and not a borderline alky), so I'm staying well away from this thread.
Similarly to the chap in the news report, though, one of my flatmates recently managed to wake up with a big shard of glass in his back. He did recall falling over and breaking a pint glass whilst in a club the night before, but said that it happened early on!
Lave, that is a most excellent story.
Pundabaya wrote:
Grim... wrote:
Um, good plan.
Apart from the Racing License and the €200000 entry fee.
Apart from the Racing License and the €200000 entry fee.
Now, I'd love to see the Top Gear crew 'do' LeMans in a hilariously unlikely vehicle. Like a Hilux. I'm sure with a bit of tinkering you could turn a Hilux into an absolute beast of a racing vehicle.
They wouldn't get an entry, there's only 50 spaces and they go to teams who are regulars racing in other, recognised series.
I have never been drunk, so I cannot participate in this discussion.
nervouspete wrote:
Lave, that is a most excellent story.
Cheers, that house produced a lot of them unfortunately.
I drink occasionally, but used to drink a lot. It took me a while to realise, but I found that I am a massive cunt when I am hammered. I become angry, aggressive and argumentative, and it's damaged several friendships, some irreparably so. If I stick to beer I'm fine; switch to anything stronger and I am capable of being a moody, unpleasant twat. I have only been properly drunk once in the last 10 months, and intend to keep it that way.
Sorry, this isn't really in the spirit of the thread.
Sorry, this isn't really in the spirit of the thread.
I drink quite often but I've only really had one pretty stupid incident. Went to a Ryan Air Christmas party a couple of years ago when I was working in the airport. Place was wall to wall with cracking eastern european birds I'd been buttering up for ages. Actually had my eye on a Scottish chick who had been flirting back at me for the preceeding couple of weeks. I arrived very late, and everybody else was several pints in and chucking shots into pints and such. I was stone cold sober so I went up to the bar and got a few vodkas. Then got a few more vodkas. Went off to the jacks, came back and was still sober. Decided to have a few aftershocks. I think my internal clock was out or something. I'd probably only been in there 15 minutes.
Went off to the dance floor for a bit of a boogie. Tried to chat up Scottish bird. Collapsed ontop of her. Went out for a bit of air at that point. Second I hit the air I just went face first into the concrete. Decided I'd call it a night at this point and started wandering off in the direction of my friends flat. Knew he lived somewhere near where I'd parked my car. Kept calling him up (said I was making less and less sense each time he called. Told me to stay where I was but I was in a walking mood). Feel asleep on the main street of the city for a bit. Woke up and there were all these little scumbags around me checking my pockets. I stood up and glared at them and they fucked off thankfully. Eventually got back to my car and decided to go to sleep in that because I was seriously tired. Got my jacket out of the back and then I blacked out.
Woke up in the Garda station in Limerick. Apparently I'd fallen asleep with my feet in the passanger seat and my head on the pavement.
Lave: Hehehe. You're a very moral person. One of the guys in the flat next to mine used to come into our place drunk occasionally (he was actually a very nice guy) and rummage through our freezer for something to cook up. He robbed a load of my fish one night right infront of me. I honestly didn't mind that much, used to go over to their place and smoke lots of their weed. But this night he was absolutely hammered and probably only cooked it for 5 minutes. He was sick as a dog for 3 days. I was going over there every day laughing at him.
Went off to the dance floor for a bit of a boogie. Tried to chat up Scottish bird. Collapsed ontop of her. Went out for a bit of air at that point. Second I hit the air I just went face first into the concrete. Decided I'd call it a night at this point and started wandering off in the direction of my friends flat. Knew he lived somewhere near where I'd parked my car. Kept calling him up (said I was making less and less sense each time he called. Told me to stay where I was but I was in a walking mood). Feel asleep on the main street of the city for a bit. Woke up and there were all these little scumbags around me checking my pockets. I stood up and glared at them and they fucked off thankfully. Eventually got back to my car and decided to go to sleep in that because I was seriously tired. Got my jacket out of the back and then I blacked out.
Woke up in the Garda station in Limerick. Apparently I'd fallen asleep with my feet in the passanger seat and my head on the pavement.
Lave: Hehehe. You're a very moral person. One of the guys in the flat next to mine used to come into our place drunk occasionally (he was actually a very nice guy) and rummage through our freezer for something to cook up. He robbed a load of my fish one night right infront of me. I honestly didn't mind that much, used to go over to their place and smoke lots of their weed. But this night he was absolutely hammered and probably only cooked it for 5 minutes. He was sick as a dog for 3 days. I was going over there every day laughing at him.
I was pondering and I don't think I have done anything utterly stupid.
I've woken up in a dumpter type bin, I've woken up in someone's front garden, in the rain, hugging a ladder.
I've done the usual running through a street of your friends choice, naked and slept in a shower.
I do sometimes get the gift of the gab if I consume enough without passing out, as I proved at a friends 18th at college. I don't think I have actually managed to drink that much alcohol in one go since.
I've woken up in a dumpter type bin, I've woken up in someone's front garden, in the rain, hugging a ladder.
I've done the usual running through a street of your friends choice, naked and slept in a shower.
I do sometimes get the gift of the gab if I consume enough without passing out, as I proved at a friends 18th at college. I don't think I have actually managed to drink that much alcohol in one go since.
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