Tag Archives: pissed

American Football in Camden

10 Nov

For my brothers recent birthday, 8 of us decided to go on an all day drinking session in dirty but vibrant London town, Camden. The day itself was good fun; the shitty weather dampened our clothes but not our spirits and we enjoyed drinks in a number of pubs and bars throughout the day.

As the evening drew near, with all of us suitably inebriated, we decided that we should head back and carry on drinking closer to home. We made our way to the tube station, swaying back and forth across the pavement as we did so. On the floor up ahead of us, I spotted a large slipper. It was tatty and dirty, but to my drunken eyes it was a great find. Up to the slipper I ran, and when I reached it, I hunched myself over it. Then I peered over my shoulder to see the rest of the gang looking on with confused looks on their faces.

 “22…24… HUT, HUT”.

 I launched the slipper through my legs behind me as if I were an American footballer. My brother sprang forward and caught it superbly well and I sprinted off ahead waiting for the return pass. As I legged it forward, the others got excited and burst forward after me. My brother released the slipper from his hands and it arced through the air gracefully. I knew I had to increase my speed if I was going to catch it, so I upped my tempo slightly. A random bystander was pushed out of the way, my hand thrusting against his forehead to move him out of my path. The slipper landed delicately in my hand.

 “TOUCHDOWN!”

 We all cheered. Other bystanders looked on with utter disgust on their faces. There was only one thing for it. We formed a scrum, I placed the slipped under my arm, and we advanced forward in our huddle, all the way to the station, making weird groaning like noises. Unfortunately, the slipper was lost on the train journey home, but its memory lives on.

‘Armless Fun

26 Jul

I drunkenly pushed my way to the front of a crowded bar (the Toad – High Wycombe), and managed to get a spot behind a gorgeous blonde. She was served and then turned to walk out through the crowd, but as I was so close to her I succeeded in spilling her drink as she bumped into my arm. I apologised profusely and offered to buy her a replacement, and she was absolutely fine about it.
I ordered her and I a drink, as well as a shot of sambuca each, and placed them down on the bar in front of us.

“Here you go, I got us a shot as well”

She smiled.

“One, two, three, down it!”. I picked up my glass, threw the sambuca down my throat and then…just..stopped. Before I knew it, I lost control of my body. I couldn’t help myself; a smile formed across my face and then I just cracked up laughing.

I’d never seen a thalidomide scoop up a shot glass and down the contents before.

It was the action that, in my less than sober state, I found amusing for some reason. Her arm and action was like a little mechanical digger.
Again I apologized, and I felt like an utter cunt. I spluttered out a number of variations of ‘sorry’ whilst trying to hold my laughter in, but in my head I kept seeing the scene from Men Behaving Badly when Gary has that special ‘beer glove’. To her credit, the girl was very good about it and after I eventually calmed down, we got chatting. We shared a few more shots that night, and all was well again.

What a fucker though, laughing at a thalidomide.

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