[Aussiegav]

another moment of chemical affected judgement.

went surfing on west coast of ireland. had to catch a train from dublin to sligo. the night previous was weighing heavy on me. i got to the train very early. they said i could put my board and luggage on, but then they would take the train to the cleaning depot for 20 mins. i grabbed my wallet and headed to the bar.
mid way through my 2nd pint of guiness i see my train leaving the platform. i think, fuck there goes my board and luggage.
i neck the pint and run out chasing the moving train, open a cabin door indiana jones stylee, and jump aboard.
a train inspector comes storming into the carrige, 'what on jesus are you doing??'
i tell him about my belongings, and he says, i told you we'd be cleaning the train before leaving!!! scratching his head in disbelieve..
 the train gets cleaned and we go back to the station. by now the head honcho of dublin station is breathing fire.. gives me a complete hair dryer treatment and i suddenly shrank to the size of a 5 yr old.

on my return to dublin, i go out for a few beers and check some clubs and bars. met some girl and her friend, some body spikes my drink and i end up in a house party  some where in dublin. luckily someone takes me to the hostel where my gear was. but as it's after 11 am, my bed is gone. my flight wasn't til 7pm. so i get a ticket on a open top tour bus. go to the back seat on the top and sleep for a few hours.

[Bubba]

where I proceed I drop our £18 a piece 'Rhubarb and Custards' capsules (not tablets mind) sourced from the very best connections in the f*cking mens Urinal.....

To Rinse or not to Rinse - that is the question?  The capsules are already disintegrating and softening up... so the answer was no... a big swig of Red Stripe and a down in one and off we go.

Snap!

I was at a night at the (now demolished) Palais at the bottom of London Rd in about '91/2. Went to a toilet cubicle to hurridly gobble down a juicy genuine White Dove. The bouncers had a habit of peering in at you over the top of the toilet door and if you were found with anything on you then they took it away (to sell later) and booted you from the club, so time was of the essence.

Anyway, I was already fairly off my rocker and fumbled with the baggy containing the Dove. Inevitably it leaves my unsteady hands and plops straight into the bottom of the u-bend which is filled with assorted junk and much piss and gob - luckily no number twos were present.

Only a second's thought was necessary before I plunged my hand down to retrieve the little fella and pop it straight into my mouth. I felt dirty. Very dirty.

But strangely, half an hour later I couldn't care less

[Houdini]

Bubbas' tale disturbed something from the depths; something I was hoping to forget...



Myself, Bitch Cross and Sick Boy are in quite simply the seeeeeediest, nastiest, dirtiest, filthiest shithole tech-tard club in the whole of Northern Germany.  It's name?  The Lucky Strike.  (The only reason we were there of course was the easy availability of illegal stimulants/cock shrinkers.  And for minxy teutonette disco-slut eye-candy, naturallement  )

The music was utterly dire (perfect for Proll the German Chavs) but we had made our choice and were determined to be as seedy and filthy as those around us.

I meet and befriend a particularly beautiful young woman (blonder than you've ever seen) and her equally young boyfriend.  They are good kids - I learn that for them, this club is the bee's knees which they had travelled a long way to attend.  Alas they have no drugs...

                                                   ...But I do, and in thanks for the crack etc..  I give them a pill each: they were Supermen.  I didn't like them and thought them somewhat smacky and found it easy to give them away.  But I'm not Santa Claus and thought that a gift of two was plenty - as naturally they returned and wanted more.  I fobbed them off with a go seek yourself to which they did and returned empty handed.

In the mean time, Sick Boy had been mooching in a dark corner and had found what appeared to be a baggy full of powder.  We'd struck gold.  No.  A quick dab revealed the powder to be an unholy concoction of speed, perhaps coke, maybe Ketamine, cut with a healthy dose of No Idea.  The dab was foul, shite beyond description, it could have been Vim for all we knew...  It tasted like it was made in Iraq.

The kids return and started to bug me for more of whatever.  I have nothing more to offer, I say.  But wait, hang-on, Sick Boys' baggie!  I explain that the baggy was found.  I explain we have not one clue as to it's contents and begin to hammer home the message that it could be poison and that if you take this, you are on your own.  The lad barely listens, sees the baggy with rolling eyes and takes it downstairs to the cubicles immediately.  He returns sharpish, having snorted a few grams in one - all of it!

And for a time after, it was as good as one could expect with smacky pills in your blood and poor, anonymous techno in your head.  About 10 to 12 minutes later, the blonde lass is concerned about her boyfriend, she's fairly angry too as her guy is clutching his head with white knuckles and sweating profusely.  She's frightened and pissed off at the same time, so I take her aside and remind her of all that I said not 10 minutes ago.  None of which she is buying, You don't just find a bag of drugs in the corner... etc..  Well actually yes, you do occassionally, like today.  I point out that both her and her boyfriend are greedy cashless blaggers and well, shit happens.  None of this washes with the lad who is clearly in pain, but he gave me a look which said, It know it was me that snorted this, not you.

Bitch and Sick Boy suggest we leave the Lucky Strike while we still can. I was inclined to agree with them before we had a body on our hands.  Luckily the couple decide to cut their losses and retire, to where I don't know or care, leaving us three to sleaze it up as intended.   Our actions during the remainder of the morning are unclear and perhaps best forgotten.

But that lad, ah tell thee.  Scary stuff!

[Bubba]

Some people are just too greedy

A mate of mine found a mysterious bag of powder on the floor at Glasto - it sent him fucking mad - he was a viscious snarling beast all the way home apparantly. I'm glad I wasn't there.

I think found bags of powder are best left alone.

[Houdini]

Just remembered another.



It's paper-scissors-stone for who will ring Galaxy Taxis.  I lose.

Galaxy Taxis are infact (or rather were) a cover for a Turkish drug distribution service here in the 'burg.  I'd give my man a call and we'd meet at the prearranged spot of a Shell garage round the corner from an old abode.

I make the call and half an hour later I leave the flat and head to the station.  I see the car parked it the usual spot, open the rear passenger door and dive in.  Normally my man works alone but it was not unusual for him to have an accomplice on occassions, so I didn't consider it unusual that shotgun was taken.  I sit down and realise for the first time it's not my man and his friend at all but two bewildered strangers.

You're not my drugdealer! I said surprised.
No.  I'm not.  The driver replied.

I laughed nervously, gave them a quick wave and legged it sharpish.  Felt a right twat.

[Matt]

Classic thread, somehow slipped me by. But 
My personnel embarrassment always involves alcohol and are particularly dangerous when unaccompanied. Of the repeatable.

Here in Berlin the public transport is superb, cheap and running late in the week and all night at weekends. However, this is combined with the German conviction that parties start at midnight, which is already an hour past my pre-loaded ex-pat besoffen program. So another 3-4 hours of liver abuse and I'm ready for bed, trouble is I'm an hour from home and the lids are already heavy. Then the real problem starts as the gentle rocking motion of the late night trains, trams and buses coax you into a a dangerous slumber and a roller-coaster adventure of guess where you're going to wake up. I've tried everything, reading, music, standing up but the sleep always wins.

So anyway, I generally escaped pretty lightly - going on a few circles of the tram route, getting woken by the bus driver, waking up a station past home etc... But then the girlfriend went on holiday, a few friends returned from theirs and a major beer and cocktail session was planned and executed. I left the bar, maybe somewhere about 3am, got on the S-bahn, the plush velor seat was just begging me to put my head down and have a quick rest, of coarse I'd be able to stay awake... I woke up at 6:30am, having been to my station and then back to the other side of Berlin. Still completely wasted, knackered but nothing too bad. However, I'd just like to add at this point, that my eyesight is -11 and my glasses were not where I left them. Now, if you're not aware -11 is really bad, I can't see the big H at the top of the opticians board (what board come to think of it), my focal distance is ~5cm, I get free eye tests and even a government sympathy voucher with 'complex vision' printed on the top. Anyway, the rest is obvious, no idea where I am, can't see shit, what I can see is on its alcohol assisted dance, my German's worse than my eyesight, the Train maps are stuck to the train ceilings which are ~20cm beyond my focal distance and my glasses cost 300quids.

[Mike Tyson]

Ok. My story involves nakedness.

I went up to Dundee to do training for my new job. I had been there 4 days and this was my last night. The chick who had been doing my training had managed to get us tickets to go and see a band called The View (their song "wasted little DJ's gets played on Radio 1 a bit) at the student union.

We went, got hammered and danced and moshed and had a great night. Anyhow it finished and we headed off for the post gig kebab, and nice it was.
Off went my host back home to her hubby.

I headed back to my hotel, a Travelodge with no bar or anything so was gonna hit the sack. The last thing I remember is getting into bed and being too hot so removing all my clothes. This is where things get interesting.

The next thing I know is waking up to find myself having a piss............. but not in the toilet.............. in the corridor outside my room............... naked.................. and with no key................. at 3.30am........... It had been a while since I had gone sleepwalking.

So I kinda stood there, dazed and thinking I must be dreaming. Obviously I wasn't so I cupped, as any man would and proceeded up the corridor, still VERY drunk by the way. I heard music coming from a room, so plucked up the courage to knock. Out comes a fit young chick who hasn't got a clue what to do with herself!!! Then 2 blokes come out and fucking piss themselves at my predicament, offering me such items as a bible and a pen to cover up my bits, cheeky buggers.

In the end they gave me a sheet and I had to get the lift down to reception and then be escorted back to my room by the porter chap.

But what makes this story EVEN better, was the state of my legs. For those who can remeber my photo of my leg in the Wickerman topic, you will know. For those who cant, here it is again



Imagine my white boy body and 3rd degree burned legs contrasting in the pale lit corridor.............

Is now a legendary tale to my mates.

 

[Houdini]

Thanks for your tale Matt - It had special relevance to my hausmate Brenner, who, every time he goes out on the lashs ends up going hin und züruck between Wedel und Poppenbuttel about 12 times - hammered in the seats.  Binge drinking, eh?

I just remembered another that amused me back in the day.  Rick can't tell it as he's not a member so I will.

Rick's just undergone some serious dental work under general anaesthesia.  After partially waking up he is driven home to his parents house in Blackpool.  Rick's mum likes a hot house and the radiators are always on full.  He snoozes off in a chair...  His arm makes contact with an adjacent radiator...  He shifts in his sleep and ends up with his head against his arm which pushes the limb onto the radiator even harder.

Couple of hours later he wakes up from his snooze feeling vague pain in his arm.  Tit's been asleep for so long he's given himself 3rd° burns along the length of his forearm - which luckily for him he can't feel anywhere near as much as he should.  Back to hospital for Rick.  What a day he's had!

[jfw]

Heading back to leeds from tangled or havok or some such in manc town we are in  rainbirds pink van; given/lent/whatever to him by some chick in the lakes. when we are but mere minutes from tea and spliffs all round back in harold st, what do we see in the old wing mirror but the merry blue lights of the filth.

pat's unfeasibly large pupils seem to dilate further and his head moves side to side as he gazes entranced at such a colourful display. ulp.

up walks our friend the officer and taps on the window - would you mind getting out of the vehicle sir. i try to smile straightly (ahem) from the front seat.

out climbs pat remarkably co-ordinated

-is this your vehicle sir?

-yes um no um..

we're off to a good start.

-who's this in the back?

-ciaran and haley

-got their seatbelts on have they? - (there are quite blatently no seats - just a bed type set up)

-no but they're pretty well tucked in!

-would you  mind coming to answer a few questions in the car sir

we see pat being marched off quietly shitting ourselves - as i wonder if i'm going to have to take one for the team and eat the two hundred mushrooms out of the glove compartment.

there follows a protracted time of the police holdng a clipboard and chatting to pat - while we panic some more - then back over they come.

-you guys are going to have to get out of the back of the van - its illegal to drive with people in a van without seats. our shifts ending now - so if you wait 5 minutes we'll probably never know if you got back in the back- which of course you won't as its illegal.

- yes officer we nod

off they drive

-pat, pat what did he say

-he said give me 3 goood reasons why i shouldn't give you 6 points and a fine on the spot

what did you say?

i said a) i'm a really good driver
b) i need my van for work
c) look at my van its pink its awesome

what did they say to that?

one of them said - i think we should take this van back to the lock up and search it for drugs

what did you say

i said- ahahahahah!

what happened?

i got a producer

that was lucky

it would be if i had any insurance

[soapy]

arf! k.w.a.l.i.d.e.e. 

[Red]

after reading many a shameless tale it would only be right to confess one of the most toe-curling events that henceforth shaped my drinking habits for ever

about 8 years ago, after a particularly heavy drinking session at a third rate discoteque establishment in my home town i ended up going back to a fellow students house, where she lived with (I found out later) a large extended family, including grandparents, great uncles and cousins thrice removed. after a rowdy home-coming and tip toeing around the larbyrinth-esque house on rather unsteady feet we all bedded down for the night, all of us three girls in a big double bed. as it does, nature called in the tiny hours, and i embarked on a lengthy mission to find the toilet. after what seemed like days adventuring around this tardis i eventually found my bedroom again, crept into bed, and snuggled up into the big double bed between my two friends. 
*two or three hours pass*....   as the sun came in through the curtains my eyes opened and i stretched out, a bit hazy from the previous nights activities... and to my delight there was a glass of water on the bedside table. i stretched out to pick it up... and to my astonishment, inside the glass sat a pair of old man's gnashers sitting next to some glasses which looked like they had just dropped off danger mouse's mate. across the room i could make out a walking stick and old mans slippers which i swore had not been there the day before. i closed my eyes in the realisation that i was no longer cosied up between my two partners in crime from the night before.... but a gran and grandpa, who it seemed were not long for this world anyway, even before they woke up to find some whipper snapper sharing their bed sheets. imagine explaining your way out of that one.  and also to all your mates when the story had been spread around college. 

[soapy]

ah,

choppers in a glass

the sweet honied aroma of leaking bladders


don't knock it red

[Red]

eight years later and i still have an involuntary flinch

[soapy]

flinch, you mean an involuntary pelvic floor muscle contraction..?!


filthy mare!!!!


 

[Red]

do i KNOW you? you know too much.....

[Houdini]

That Soapy's damn good at spyhole drilling.  Be warned.  You're probably on the internet somewhere already...

[soapy]

people are driven by two things only:

lust

fear

we're all characters from a bosch scape

[Houdini]

I'm driven by a chauffeur...

[SA Chris]

I'm driven by a chauffeur...

I'm driven to drink.

Normally by a designated driver.

[Matt]

Houdini, it's not just your mates and myself having trouble with staying awake on the public transport, it's a common affliction of young German society.

If you want to raise the stakes you can opt for the regional express trains instead of the S-bahn - twice as fast home, so less time that you have to stay awake, BUT, if you do catch some shut-eye then there is double trouble - the potential to be >2h from home, and outside your ticket boundary so it hits your pocket too (but not as much as my 300quids on the glasses), and that's excluding the fact you'll probably end up in Magdeburg - somewhere you really don't want to be in the middle of the night anytime. My mate thought he had stacked the odds in his favor by setting his mobile phone alarm to wake him just before potsdam, however, he then woke up in Magdeburg, where the guys in the opposite seat usefully informed him that his phone kept going off 

Then another friend, how he laughed when I recounted my lost glasses story, was out with us in potsdam, so it was his turn to face the danger. As we got off the S-bahn we told him to not fall asleep - he'd even got a book to read to help advert disaster - guess what - wakes up 2 stations past his own. Only a minor problem, although as the late night trains aren't so frequent he was 1/2 hour late home and I got my turn to take the piss 

[Will Hunt]

Have now completed some marathon reading and have seen every story on the topic. I have a couple of my own to add to the fray. (Fiends poo in the eye was the best by the way)

#1   Today we had a free period and seeing as theres nothing else to do in the common room we had a raucous game of Smash Football on the comunal gamecube. It was best of 3 matches and in the final seconds things were getting heated. People on both teams got excited and started shouting at the screen. As a goal was scored in the final second to make it 4-3 against us the tension exploded and everyone started to make some very loud noises. It was only after several seconds of shouting (Im not sure why) "SPANK MY MONKEY. SPANK MY MONKEY" and slapping my groin that I realised that everyone except me had gone quiet and the head of sixth form was standing behind us watching me "Spank my monkey". Oh the embarrasement.

#2 There is another story that I have cherished because it is simply so unbelievable to some who hear it. I assure you its true.
In my prime I was an athletic young lad and had been selected for the school athletics match. The rest of the year had gone off to a camping thing and us athletes were to follow on after our event. Of course we were pretty damn hungry so we pulled in at McDonalds on the way. McFlurrys had just been created so everyone but me and another girl had one of them and after tucking into my burger and chips I boarded the bus with the others. It was while we were travelling down the motorway that the fun began.
A big chav at the back hurled. As I turned round i swear I could see chips sticking out of his mound of vom. The person sitting next to him soon followed suit. Then another, and another until everyone who had had a McFlurry had been sick EVERYWHERE on this jam packed minibus. The sick was covering just about every surface other than me as I had resisted the temptations of a McFlurry. I climbed over seats frontwards to avoid getting my share of half digested McDonalds all over me. There was one final act to come. Still travelling at 70mph down the motorway trying to find services to stop at a young girl called Stephanie needed one last retch. She opened the sliding window, stuck out her head and unleashed a torrent of Big Mac, chips and McFlurry into the car behind. The window got covered in puke. on finally stopping at services the teachers set about cleaning the minibuses outside while Stephanie cleaned her hair in a sink. I have never had a McFlurry.

Oh. I had a poo while having a bath once as well.

[Monolith]

Since birth, I've had a problem with my left wrist(go on, get it out of your system). It's an entanglement and narrowing of the veins in it. It's perplexed the doctors for years and it's only recently that they've just identified this. The calcified bone deposits in it threw them off the trail for a long time, but less about the mutant limb.

That last trip to the vascular surgeon a year ago proved to be pretty entertaining. I arrived at the hospital reception in good time and remained seated until my calling came from the nurse. "In you go Mr.Mills, the doctor will be through with you in a minute." Fine.
Some 15 minutes later, enter nurse two: "Sorry about the delay Mr.Mills, the doctor won't be long. If you'd just like to strip your bottom half off, he'll be through in a minute." She remained in the doorway for a moment and made some small talk about it being busy, all the while I am attending to her request. I have no idea why I unbuttoned my jeans, pulled down the boxers in front of her and only thought as I peeled said items off the ankles that this was a rather bizarre request for someone with a wrist problem (perhaps she made the same associative connection that all men make when a pal comments about having a sore wrist). As she carried on with this chit-chat, I finally realised the weirdness of the situation and interjected: "Can I just ask why I need to take my pants off?" "So that the doctor can take a look at your testicles" she replied.
"Why would the doctor want to look at my testicles for a wrist problem?" A lengthy pause ensued and eventually resulted in her commenting "Oh I'm terribly sorry sir, I had you down for a testicle examination."

She scurried off, mildly embarrassed. Just as the jeans are coming back up, in walks the doctor looking bemused at my actions. I tell him what he's just missed, and he looks down at his notepad chuckling. "Nurses hey!?" he comments.

[Red]

if you were a woman and she were a man some might say that would be a different story altogether..... 

[Monolith]

Quite. I was rather perplexed by the situation at the time and was a bit too busy being anxious with my hatred of hospitals to notice. My girlfriends mother is a lecturer in Primary Healthcare, and she has told me at lengths about the hierarchy that exists in hospitals between doctors and nurses. Things are changing she tells me, and now nurses are being given the adequate training and license to perform tasks that previously only doctors could.

[Red]

what, like manipulating vunerable young men in to getting their kit off?