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Funny And/Or Weird Happenings Whilst Drunk (Stoned; Tripping; Etc.)

Ah...the foggy memories are becoming clearer.

I was on a date (with my now wife) at a bar in London and the place was proper packed. The only way out of where we were sitting was to climb over the table. So I climbed over, bought some drinks and then tried to climb back into my seat. But the ceiling was low and I banged my head on something. It hurt like hell.

Back in my seat, I was trying to cooly ignore the pain on the top of my head. But then my date's face was struck with horror and I felt something warm trickle down my face. Turns out I had spilt my head open and blood was pissing everywhere. I climbed back out and trying to stem the flow, I looked for the toilet to clean up. I ended up stuck in the massive toilet queue, catching all my blood in cupped hands. It didn't drop down from my nose, it ran in a constant trickle. In the end it spilled over my hands, I gave up the ghost and just dropped the whole lot on the floor. I felt a bit dizzy so I went down on my knees. A bouncer then came over and looking at my head said that I should leave immediately and get stitches.

So we left...and went straight to a club where I danced all night long with napkins pressed to my head. Great days. Great days.

Another time I got really pissed after noticing that a certain new barmaid was mistakenly serving doubles instead of singles. Outside, having changed the sticky letters on their sign from Public House to Pubic Louse, me and my GF then jokingly ran away but I stumbled. I put out my hand to catch my fall and took all the skin off my palm. The flesh was hanging off in strands. Our friends caught up to us and asked what I had done. In the explaining of the events, I managed to trip over a nearby curb and shielding my bad hand, put out the other. Yep - took all the skin off that one too.

I woke up on my GF's sofa with my bloodied hands stuck to the duvet. After peeling them off, I saw two shredded excuses for palms filled with gravel and glass. Great days. Great days.
 
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God, these all sound horrifying, rather than 'amusing anecdotes'. There are few occasions in my life where I've been glad that more than half a bottle of wine makes me vomit, so I never really get *that* pissed - this is one of them.
 
Ah...the foggy memories are becoming clearer.

I was on a date (with my now wife) at a bar in London and the place was proper packed. The only way out of where we were sitting was to climb over the table. So I climbed over, bought some drinks and then tried to climb back into my seat. But the ceiling was low and I banged my head on something. It hurt like hell.

Back in my seat, I was trying to cooly ignore the pain on the top of my head. But then my date's face was struck with horror and I felt something warm trickle down my face. Turns out I had spilt my head open and blood was pissing everywhere. I climbed back out and trying to stem the flow, I looked for the toilet to clean up. I ended up stuck in the massive toilet queue, catching all my blood in cupped hands. It didn't drop down from my nose, it ran in a constant trickle. In the end it spilled over my hands, I gave up the ghost and just dropped the whole lot on the floor. I felt a bit dizzy so I went down on my knees. A bouncer then came over and looking at my head said that I should leave immediately and get stitches.

So we left...and went straight to a club where I danced all night long with napkins pressed to my head. Great days. Great days.

Another time I got really pissed after noticing that a certain new barmaid was mistakenly serving doubles instead of singles. Outside, having changed the sticky letters on their sign from Public House to Pubic Louse, me and my GF then jokingly ran away but I stumbled. I put out my hand to catch my fall and took all the skin off my palm. The flesh was hanging off in strands. Our friends caught up to us and asked what I had done. In the explainging of the events, I managed to trip over a nearby curb and shielding my bad hand, put out the other. Yep - took all the skin off that one too.

I woke up on my GF's sofa with my bloodied hands stuck to the duvet. After peeling them off, I saw two shredded excuses for palms filled with gravel and glass. Great days. Great days.

Some years ago there was a programme on one of the sky channels, called something like Britons toughest pubs or Britons hardest Pubs etc

The usual array of absolute dives in Moss side, Toxteth, Glasgow etc.

There was one pub I think it was in Stoke, where one of the regulars was staggering home one night, and decided to take a shortcut over the train tracks, he tripped on one of the rails, fell over and instantly fell asleep. Next thing he knew, he’s in hospital with part of one of his legs missing just above the knee - obviously his leg had been laying across the track, when a train came along and chopped part of it off.

The programme showed him back in the pub, he’d taken off his hollow prosthetic leg, and he was drinking cider from it – you’d think he’d learnt his lesson LOL
 
Many years ago when I was single I had an impromptu House Party after a works Christmas do in a local pub. Everyone piled back to my house and got the very worst for wear. Those who could still walk and lived nearby went home. Everyone else just crashed wherever in the house. Can't remember a lot apart from a salted peanut fight and the mess it made. Anyway I was woken up the next morning by some kind of commotion in the front bedroom. I was in the back bedroom alone and had gone to bed fully dressed. I got up and went out on the landing to find 2 lads who had both slept in the same room in the front in a right state. The bedroom that they slept in had a window high up overlooking a road, the house was down in a dip and had an embankment and steps up to the road. My neighbours at that time had an old fishing boat that they kept permanently parked up on the road in the residents parking space. One of the boys had got up and glanced out of the window and could see just the boat and the trees. He woke the other lad and they both thought that they were both on a boat on the river. The panic and confusion was hysterical. I bumped into one of them just before Christmas in a pub. He always mentions it and we laugh about it. Ship ahoy!

I told you this thread would bring back memories.

A few years ago after the firms Christmas do, I decided to book myself a room for the night in a cheap flea bitten hotel in Kings cross. Another guy who I work with and who also lives out in the sticks, decided to do the same.

I woke the next morning to shouting coming from the next room, then furious knocking at my room door, It was the work colleague, he’d obviously just gotten out of the shower as his hair was wet and he had a towel wrapped around his waist.

He told me that he’s entire dinner suit had gone missing from his room, and he had nothing to change into ( our normal lounge suits, had been left back in the office )

Thinking that he was still drunk I told him not to worry, as I’ll get dressed then I’ll help find them.

We searched that room from top to bottom, looking under beds, in draws the wardrobe obviously and that suit was no-where to be seen.

His wallet, keys, phone and other personal effects were neatly laid out on the bedside cabinet, so I can’t imagine that someone would sneak into his room, steal the suit (including the shoes) but leave the wallet and phone – god only knows what happened to them

The hotels lost property saved the day, but I still laugh at the thought of him walking into the office wearing slippers, an outsized pair of jeans and a women’s cardigan.
 
Ah...the foggy memories are becoming clearer.

I was on a date (with my now wife) at a bar in London and the place was proper packed. The only way out of where we were sitting was to climb over the table. So I climbed over, bought some drinks and then tried to climb back into my seat. But the ceiling was low and I banged my head on something. It hurt like hell.

Back in my seat, I was trying to cooly ignore the pain on the top of my head. But then my date's face was struck with horror and I felt something warm trickle down my face. Turns out I had spilt my head open and blood was pissing everywhere. I climbed back out and trying to stem the flow, I looked for the toilet to clean up. I ended up stuck in the massive toilet queue, catching all my blood in cupped hands. It didn't drop down from my nose, it ran in a constant trickle. In the end it spilled over my hands, I gave up the ghost and just dropped the whole lot on the floor. I felt a bit dizzy so I went down on my knees. A bouncer then came over and looking at my head said that I should leave immediately and get stitches.

So we left...and went straight to a club where I danced all night long with napkins pressed to my head. Great days. Great days.

Another time I got really pissed after noticing that a certain new barmaid was mistakenly serving doubles instead of singles. Outside, having changed the sticky letters on their sign from Public House to Pubic Louse, me and my GF then jokingly ran away but I stumbled. I put out my hand to catch my fall and took all the skin off my palm. The flesh was hanging off in strands. Our friends caught up to us and asked what I had done. In the explaining of the events, I managed to trip over a nearby curb and shielding my bad hand, put out the other. Yep - took all the skin off that one too.

I woke up on my GF's sofa with my bloodied hands stuck to the duvet. After peeling them off, I saw two shredded excuses for palms filled with gravel and glass. Great days. Great days.
I threw a party at my parents house when they'd gone on holiday in the late 80's, fortunately my older Sister was more sensible than me so banished us all to the garden, my Dad had a few acres of woodland so we had more than enough room. Earlier in the day, I'd seen some lads I vaguely knew with a few packs of beer at a bus stop so asked them where the party was and was a bit alarmed when they gave my address.

I realised things had got out of hand, told a good friend who knew a bouncer so I paid for him to be there to keep a look out for trouble.

One of my mates Andrew turned up (he'd been invited), drank half a bottle of scotch and was showing off his large hunting knife to people sat around the fire. He ran it along the back of his wrist to demonstrate how sharp it was but ended up cutting deeply into the back of his wrist instead because he was pissed. Fortunately the older guy I'd hired as a bouncer for the night had the common sense on how to do immediate first aid and to phone for a non emergency ambulance so police wouldn't turn up at the same time.

Andrew was taken off to hospital to get stitched up and to my amazement, on being discharged, he got a taxi back to the party and carried on drinking. He was a bit of a mad bastard like that. A few months later, we went to someone else's party for a load of water ski bare footers, he ended up annoying them to the point where I had to apologise to the lads and get him out of the place sharpish before they beat him up. He went missing after that until my Sister spotted him up a tree: "Mate why are you up that tree? .. what are you doing with that branch?" .. "I'm going to use it as a weapon!" ..

Funnily enough, he became a successful business man later in life.
 
Ah...the foggy memories are becoming clearer.

I was on a date (with my now wife) at a bar in London and the place was proper packed. The only way out of where we were sitting was to climb over the table. So I climbed over, bought some drinks and then tried to climb back into my seat. But the ceiling was low and I banged my head on something. It hurt like hell.

Back in my seat, I was trying to cooly ignore the pain on the top of my head. But then my date's face was struck with horror and I felt something warm trickle down my face. Turns out I had spilt my head open and blood was pissing everywhere. I climbed back out and trying to stem the flow, I looked for the toilet to clean up. I ended up stuck in the massive toilet queue, catching all my blood in cupped hands. It didn't drop down from my nose, it ran in a constant trickle. In the end it spilled over my hands, I gave up the ghost and just dropped the whole lot on the floor. I felt a bit dizzy so I went down on my knees. A bouncer then came over and looking at my head said that I should leave immediately and get stitches.

So we left...and went straight to a club where I danced all night long with napkins pressed to my head. Great days. Great days.

Another time I got really pissed after noticing that a certain new barmaid was mistakenly serving doubles instead of singles. Outside, having changed the sticky letters on their sign from Public House to Pubic Louse, me and my GF then jokingly ran away but I stumbled. I put out my hand to catch my fall and took all the skin off my palm. The flesh was hanging off in strands. Our friends caught up to us and asked what I had done. In the explaining of the events, I managed to trip over a nearby curb and shielding my bad hand, put out the other. Yep - took all the skin off that one too.

I woke up on my GF's sofa with my bloodied hands stuck to the duvet. After peeling them off, I saw two shredded excuses for palms filled with gravel and glass. Great days. Great days.
Legend!
 
Thinking about it - I may have overdone the drinking in my college/uni days.

After one spectacular and long session in London, I took the night bus home at about 3.30 in the morning. I felt like falling asleep on the bus but managed to stay awake. From the bus stop to the end of my road was just one long terraced street with a high wall running the length of it. At the end of this wall was a path leading through a cut into my street. I was so tired (read pissed) that I surmised that walking with my eyes shut was OK as long as I could feel the wall bumping my left shoulder. Once I couldn't feel the wall anymore then I was at the cut into my street.

So I started walking, closed my weary eyes and woke up about 4 hours later lying on the pavement, on a bright and sunny London morning. People were stepping over and around me. I'd made it about half way down the street before passing out. But I hadn't been mugged or molested in any way. So I just picked myself up and headed home. Great days. Great days.
 
There really is nothing like a good kebab, as long as you don't think too much about what's in them.

The best cuts of lamb, chopped veg, chilli sauce. Nothing wrong with the ingredients.


Are we talking kebabs as in the elephants leg from the take away, or kebabs as in Ms Goody's version?

^^ Perhaps I should've said, "take that takeaway away anyway you like to take it". ^^ Alles klar?

Myth is correct; a proper lamb doner / gyro comprises discs of breast of lamb*, seasoned and or marinated ( *a cut usually overlooked by butchers these days ) enriched with discs of lamb / mutton fat. Yum!

The other 'shish' kebabs, as you'll see them described in your local kebab shop, (if you can focus, ho ho) are, of course small bits of meat and veg cooked over wood or charcoal, hence the wonderful flavour - and are perfectly unambiguous, ingredients-wise ... and have emerged all over the place from the Med to the Middle East to bits of Africa and China and Mongolia.

As per lazy observational comedians everywhere, no - I have never eaten doner kebab whilst completely sober, but that's not the point *ahem*.
 
^^ Perhaps I should've said, "take that takeaway away anyway you like to take it". ^^ Alles klar?

Myth is correct; a proper lamb doner / gyro comprises discs of breast of lamb*, seasoned and or marinated ( *a cut usually overlooked by butchers these days ) enriched with discs of lamb / mutton fat. Yum!

The other 'shish' kebabs, as you'll see them described in your local kebab shop, (if you can focus, ho ho) are, of course small bits of meat and veg cooked over wood or charcoal, hence the wonderful flavour - and are perfectly unambiguous, ingredients-wise ... and have emerged all over the place from the Med to the Middle East to bits of Africa and China and Mongolia.

As per lazy observational comedians everywhere, no - I have never eaten doner kebab whilst completely sober, but that's not the point *ahem*.

I like shish kebabs but am only moved to get them when pissed and I don't have the patience to wait for them to cook, so very rarely get one.
 
That's the thing innit. Once a year I might grandly order the 'special' at one of my locals and it takes forever (because it's proper food). During the cannabis years this interval would feel like approx. one hour.

Well worth it though, esp. with the 'secret garlic sauce', only available to those in the know.
 
So different from the home life of our own dear Queen.

maximus otter
How dare you Max. When she hasn't got Brian May playing guitar on her roof, The Beatles getting stoned in her toilet, jumping out of a helicopter with 007 and she's not bumping off a Princess, she can drink more than all of us combined without being sick.
 
Never be tempted to buy the shish meet from the frozen section in Morrisons. That stuff's vile.

I made the mistake of buying the equivalent from ASDA. How you can make marinated meat utterly tasteless remains a mystery.

I've made the same mistake (from Iceland). It had been recommended, but was absolutely revolting. Having to throw away 'food' stuck in my throat, although not as much as the kebab product.

Good grief, I can still taste the stuff.
 
I just remembered a drinking related incident from around 1987. I used to work at a hospital for people with learning difficulties, it was quite isolated outside Whalley in Lancashire. Around the corner from the hospital was a pub, 'The Black Bull'. After closing time you had to go out through the back door through the graveyard.

One night four of us were blind drunk and staggered back to the nursing accomodation. there was a mate and his girlfriend and me and a lass. We both decided to have piggy back races with the women on our backs. My mate threw his girlfriend into a grass verge and I fell though a hedge and threw this lass onto the front lawn.

We saw each other the next day and after seeing the girl whom I gave a piggy back to she just said to me "you bastard". When I asked what I had done, she said that when she woke up there was a horrible stench in the room. She got up and her face was stuck to the sheets. She had landed face first in some dog shit and slept on it all night!
 
I just remembered a drinking related incident from around 1987. I used to work at a hospital for people with learning difficulties, it was quite isolated outside Whalley in Lancashire. Around the corner from the hospital was a pub, 'The Black Bull'. After closing time you had to go out through the back door through the graveyard.

One night four of us were blind drunk and staggered back to the nursing accomodation. there was a mate and his girlfriend and me and a lass. We both decided to have piggy back races with the women on our backs. My mate threw his girlfriend into a grass verge and I fell though a hedge and threw this lass onto the front lawn.

We saw each other the next day and after seeing the girl whom I gave a piggy back to she just said to me "you bastard". When I asked what I had done, she said that when she woke up there was a horrible stench in the room. She got up and her face was stuck to the sheets. She had landed face first in some dog shit and slept on it all night!
Did she ever forgive you?
 
I once fell into a river but managed to keep my kebab dry (the river was only waist deep). Still, I considered it quite an achievement and do to this day.

There was no supernatural component to this incident.
Wonders if 'kebab' is a euphemism (immature, snurk,snigger)
 
You've brought this back to mind. I can date it from just after the first, 'Space Invaders' pub console, was released.


Local tavern had one and we all played it non-stop - to the extent, if I closed my eyes much later, could still vividly see a game unfolding.

So, all ended up at a party - about 20 of us - boys and girls - one night shortly afterwards and we self-ejected next morning, when realised pubs were now open again.

Alas, party had been held in a local, rural, community and there was only an, 'upmarket hotel', nearby.

Since it, understandably, didn't have our new, 'Space Invaders'... we decided to make our own game up.

Half of us played the Invaders, slowly stepping from left to right and back again, whilst raising arms up and down.

The other half had somehow acquired a significant supply of toilet rolls, which were being formulated into large paper balls and thrown at said, avoiding, Invaders.

Brilliant invention, best fun imaginal and went on for ages - teams swapping around.

Hotel manager appears, goes both absolutely ballistic & apoplectic - orders our good selves to leave instantly.

Couldn't see what all the fuss was about...

...until you did slightly notice the aftermath of our amusement...

...fair shout, the 11 acre, Dryburgh Abbey Hotel complex in nearby St Boswells, is renowned as one of Scotland's finest wedding venues.

Wedding party awaiting entry to the extremely, 'posh' lounge bar, can clearly view our exhilarated endeavors... yet, seem to be be somewhat horrified and alarmed...

...Hotel manager apparently experiencing some serious grief from clientele writing the cheque...
 
I once fell into a river but managed to keep my kebab dry (the river was only waist deep). Still, I considered it quite an achievement and do to this day.

There was no supernatural component to this incident.

I once saw someone fall down a spiral metal staircase about 15 feet high, plummeting right to the bottom without spilling any of his pint.

I honestly felt like I'd witnessed something very special.
 
On more than one occasion, after a few sherbets, I have gone to bed with Bo Derek, but woken up with Dot Cotton. Mysterious and terrifying.
On more than one occasion, after a few sherbets, I have gone to bed with Bo Derek, but woken up with Dot Cotton. Mysterious and terrifying.
@LordRsmacker I always used to guffaw with laughter when dot cotton used to ask
'Have you seen my nick'..!!
 
I once saw someone fall down a spiral metal staircase about 15 feet high, plummeting right to the bottom without spilling any of his pint.

I honestly felt like I'd witnessed something very special.
His 'no spillage' instincts must have kicked in. Impressive.
 
You've brought this back to mind. I can date it from just after the first, 'Space Invaders' pub console, was released.


Local tavern had one and we all played it non-stop - to the extent, if I closed my eyes much later, could still vividly see a game unfolding.

So, all ended up at a party - about 20 of us - boys and girls - one night shortly afterwards and we self-ejected next morning, when realised pubs were now open again.

Alas, party had been held in a local, rural, community and there was only an, 'upmarket hotel', nearby.

Since it, understandably, didn't have our new, 'Space Invaders'... we decided to make our own game up.

Half of us played the Invaders, slowly stepping from left to right and back again, whilst raising arms up and down.

The other half had somehow acquired a significant supply of toilet rolls, which were being formulated into large paper balls and thrown at said, avoiding, Invaders.

Brilliant invention, best fun imaginal and went on for ages - teams swapping around.

Hotel manager appears, goes both absolutely ballistic & apoplectic - orders our good selves to leave instantly.

Couldn't see what all the fuss was about...

...until you did slightly notice the aftermath of our amusement...

...fair shout, the 11 acre, Dryburgh Abbey Hotel complex in nearby St Boswells, is renowned as one of Scotland's finest wedding venues.

Wedding party awaiting entry to the extremely, 'posh' lounge bar, can clearly view our exhilarated endeavors... yet, seem to be be somewhat horrified and alarmed...

...Hotel manager apparently experiencing some serious grief from clientele writing the cheque...
I have just laughed so much I snorted coffee down my nose. Not only unladylike but painful!
 
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