Funny And/Or Weird Happenings Whilst Drunk

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Back in the days i was walking railway lines, i used to drink in this pub. The big attraction was Newcastle Brown ale. Now i'm not really a fan but this was 20+ year old Newky brown. You had to ask at the bar all secretive, and they'd send someone down to the cellar and eventually they'd bring up a wet mud covered bottle with no label and a rusty top. This stuff was so old, a favourite game was banging your glass on the top of someone's newky bottle so the bottom of the bottle would break off and they'd loose the precious loopy juice, One night i overdid it and i had my lost weekend. I remember getting to this pub on a friday night and my friends remember me being quite normal and then i was gone. The next thing i remember was waking up with my arms around an alsation with both of us howling on sunday morning with a startled security guard watching me, I had apparenty climbed over the outside wall of a hotel and ended up in the guard dog paddock. What i'd done for the previous 30 odd hours i had no idea but for a good year after, total strangers would greet me like an old friend in various pubs and clubs, and i used to get people turning up at my door claiming i'd invited them to stay. I cut down a bit after that:oops:
 
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maximus otter

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I remember getting to this pub on a friday night and my friends remember me being quite normal and then i was gone. The next thing i remember was waking up with my arms around an alsation with both of us howling on sunday morning with a startled security guard watching me, I had apparenty climbed over the outside wall of a hotel and ended up in the guard dog paddock. What i'd done for the previous 30 odd hours i had no idea but for a good year after, total strangers would greet me like an old friend in various pubs and clubs, and i used to get people turning up at my door claiming i'd invited them to stay. I cut down a bit after that:oops:
Legend!

maximus otter
 

Mythopoeika

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Back in the days i was walking railway lines, i used to drink in this pub. The big attraction was Newcastle Brown ale. Now i'm not really a fan but this was 20+ year old Newky brown. You had to ask at the bar all secretive, and they'd send someone down to the cellar and eventually they'd bring up a wet mud covered bottle with no label and a rusty top. This stuff was so old, a favourite game was banging your glass on the top of someone's newky bottle so the bottom of the bottle would break off and they'd loose the precious loopy juice, One night i overdid it and i had my lost weekend. I remember getting to this pub on a friday night and my friends remember me being quite normal and then i was gone. The next thing i remember was waking up with my arms around an alsation with both of us howling on sunday morning with a startled security guard watching me, I had apparenty climbed over the outside wall of a hotel and ended up in the guard dog paddock. What i'd done for the previous 30 odd hours i had no idea but for a good year after, total strangers would greet me like an old friend in various pubs and clubs, and i used to get people turning up at my door claiming i'd invited them to stay. I cut down a bit after that:oops:
I had that once. A bunch of dodgy looking lads came up to me in town and one started talking to me as if he knew me. I said 'do I know you?' and he said 'you seemed to be friendly enough last night, mate'. A bit freaked, I walked away. My gut instincts told me that I wouldn't normally chat to a bunch of guys like that (looked like druggies). Soon after, I gave up drinking.
 

JamesWhitehead

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waking up with my arms around an Alsatian
After a boozy night out with Liverpool chums, I was grateful for the comfortable bed in their spare room. I awoke when the early summer sun hit the pillow and I detected some off-colour odours and two numb legs. Liz was snoring beside me, all four legs in the air. Liz was a hysterical spaniel - are there any others? - and she looked worryingly satisfied. My legs were pinned down by George, the Great Dane, a noble beastie, to look at.

When I had extricated my legs from under George, I went to investigate the plumbing. He hadn't bothered to do that but had curled out the most ginormous turd on the landing. And there I was, blaming the breath of the spaniel!

I do recall that the logistics of disposing of that monster turd were ridiculously complicated in an unfamiliar house. In the end, it had to wait in a bucket by the back door, for fear of triggering the alarm. I even shampooed the carpet with Head & Shoulders and freshened the air. Now I could at least enjoy another couple of hours sleep, without the stink; the dogs had settled in their own incestuous heap.

It was a few weeks before there was any occasion to discuss the events of that night. It transpired that my chums were convinced that for some reason I had done a shit in the bucket and left it for them to find! I should have thought the girth of the thing . . . :dpoo:
 
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catseye

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I have no idea how dogs do it. My terrier can squeeze out turds that I'd swear her cute little bum was too small for, and our big old dog - well. You'd have thought an elephant on Ex-Lax had been by.
 

Dick Turpin

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On Sunday it being a hot and sunny day, I took the missus and kids to the beach for the day.

Waking past a pub in the centre of town with a just purchased bucket and spade, I heard my name being called from within and turned to see an old mate of mine. We shook hands and embraced (as we hadn’t seen each other for a few years) and he offered to buy me a pint. I dropped the bucket and spade off and told the missus that I’ve just seen a mate, and that I’m going to join him for a beer and have a catch up.

She said she didn’t mind but told me in no uncertain terms not to take liberties, of course not I said as I walked back to the pub.

The one pint became two pints, then three, then four etc. and the next thing I remember was standing in the middle of a country road urinating up against a set of temporary traffic lights.

The cars behind were beeping their horns and the missus was screaming at me to get in the car. I managed to finish my “gypsies kiss” got back in the car, looked at the missus and said what happened..?

She didn’t answer my question, in fact she didn’t speak to me until last night. I did try to remedy the situation by buying her a large bunch of flowers and a box of Terry’s all gold, but now she’s insisting that to make up for my disgusting behaviour, I (tonight) take her to her favourite restaurant.

The catch up with my old pal, is going costing me more than I bargained for.
 

Floyd1

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On Sunday it being a hot and sunny day, I took the missus and kids to the beach for the day.

Waking past a pub in the centre of town with a just purchased bucket and spade, I heard my name being called from within and turned to see an old mate of mine. We shook hands and embraced (as we hadn’t seen each other for a few years) and he offered to buy me a pint. I dropped the bucket and spade off and told the missus that I’ve just seen a mate, and that I’m going to join him for a beer and have a catch up.

She said she didn’t mind but told me in no uncertain terms not to take liberties, of course not I said as I walked back to the pub.

The one pint became two pints, then three, then four etc. and the next thing I remember was standing in the middle of a country road urinating up against a set of temporary traffic lights.

The cars behind were beeping their horns and the missus was screaming at me to get in the car. I managed to finish my “gypsies kiss” got back in the car, looked at the missus and said what happened..?

She didn’t answer my question, in fact she didn’t speak to me until last night. I did try to remedy the situation by buying her a large bunch of flowers and a box of Terry’s all gold, but now she’s insisting that to make up for my disgusting behaviour, I (tonight) take her to her favourite restaurant.

The catch up with my old pal, is going costing me more than I bargained for.
Those bloody temporary traffic lights are everywhere. It doesn't even matter if you're in the middle of nowhere, I'll guarantee there will be a set. Good show.
 

Ghost In The Machine

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Not so long back, one of the kids asked their dad and me about famous people we had met. And we go through the same old familiar anecdotes, then husband says "And there was that night when so and so was No 1 in the charts and they were playing his video on Top Of The Pops, because we were down the folk club singing along with him all night." and named someone from a well known 80s' band, happened to be from the city where we lived... It was the folk club at our university although they weren't particularly a folk act, but one of them must have liked folk music.

I have zero memory of this. None.

Not only that, I have no memory of being told about it afterwards, ever. I never once had a conversation with anyone - not husband or friends who must have been with us - in the days that followed, to say we were there or that happened.

In those days, someone being on TOTP was pretty huge and to spend a whole evening with them, esp at the precise time everyone else in the nation was watching them on TV, well a pre-recorded video of them - would be something your mates would go on about afterwards, surely - those who were there and those who weren't. I had no clue this had even happened. Feel a bit cheated.

Either it never happened and husband was so drunk he imagined it, or it did happen and I was so drunk I have no recall of it.
 

plastic wiganer

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i tried climbing inside one of those large roll topped bins - to go to sleep - in Faliraki (greece) on my honeymoon! we had been there just one night and was out on a pub crawl with loads of others (we went on an 18-30's holiday!!)
all i remember was every time you bought a pint, you got a shot of Ouzo or Schnapz (however you spell it??) and after far too many i wanted to go to sleep.....
luckily i was stopped by a couple who had been on the same bus from the airport, who eventually found my wife. anyones guess what would have happened if they hadn't stopped me eek :boozing::skull:
 

plastic wiganer

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my (late) friend Lee, once stood up in the living room - after drinking, and pee'd all over the tv and video (a long time ago obvs) whilst watching Raiders of the lost arc, and was quickly ushered up to bed by his dad! "come on Lee time for bed" lol
 

plastic wiganer

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was at a New years eve party with my pregnant wife (8 months gone) - she hadn't been drinking obvs, and after retiring to bed (well the living room settee) at about 3 in the morning - somewhat worse for wear, was then woken by her at about 4.45 am shouting that her waters had broken! there we were, 4 weeks early, miles from home with no provisions for hospital. so after calling for an ambulance, i then had to drive home ( no taxi's available as its early new yrs day and YES somewhat inebriated) to pick everything up and then drive to the hospital to meet my now mid delivery wife in the maternity ward where my daughter was born safe and sound. THAT was some wake up call! (not something i would repeat or recommend)
 

Ghost In The Machine

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After a boozy night out with Liverpool chums, I was grateful for the comfortable bed in their spare room. I awoke when the early summer sun hit the pillow and I detected some off-colour odours and two numb legs. Liz was snoring beside me, all four legs in the air. Liz was a hysterical spaniel - are there any others? - and she looked worryingly satisfied. My legs were pinned down by George, the Great Dane, a noble beastie, to look at.

When I had extricated my legs from under George, I went to investigate the plumbing. He hadn't bothered to do that but had curled out the most ginormous turd on the landing. And there was me blaming the breath of the spaniel!

I do recall that the logistics of disposing of that monster turd were ridiculously complicated in an unfamiliar house. In the end, it had to wait in a bucket by the back door, for fear of triggering the alarm. I even shampooed the carpet with Head & Shoulders and freshened the air. Now I could at least enjoy another couple of hours sleep, without the stink; the dogs had settled in their own incestuous heap.

It was a few weeks before there was any occasion to discuss the events of that night. It transpired that my chums were convinced that for some reason I had done a shit in the bucket and left it for them to find! I should have thought the girth of the thing . . . :dpoo:
This reminds me of one I was told by a re-enactor friend. His group of medieval re-enactors were spending the night in a well known historical building in the centre of York (no longer a place they allow randomers to doss overnight because insurance, and also it's now a fragrant wedding venue).

This would have been about 15 years ago. Anyway, one of them wakes up in the night, after the usual booze-fest re-enactors/living history people usually have after the public go home, and needs some fresh air I guess, and decides to go outside.

Right there, in the doorway of the lovely medieval building, some random person has taken a big, loose crap. Friend said his mate said it wasnt dog poo, very obviously human. He decides to clean it up - probably a homeless person or a passing drunk, but he doesn't want to leave it in case the venue's owners think it was them and won't let them stay again. But as he starts cleaning it up, he starts retching - upshot being there is a massive vomit on top of this poo. He goes inside and tells someone else who comes out, tries to clean it up but also throws up on it...

Now its a swanky wedding venue that would totally ruin the ambience.

ETA: Not sure whether the medievals ever managed to clean up the mess or whether they just left it but I never go in that building but I don't spare a thought for what happened in the vestibule.
 

Dick Turpin

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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.

Ordering a freshly grilled shish (which can take anywhere between 5 to10 minutes to cook) from your average British Kebab shop is a massive no no in my experience.

You really need to order a donor and get the fcuk out of there asap, before someone punches you in the face.
 

Ogdred Weary

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Ordering a freshly grilled shish (which can take anywhere between 5 to10 minutes to cook) from your average British Kebab shop is a massive no no in my experience.

You really need to order a donor and get the fcuk out of there asap, before someone punches you in the face.
The elephant's leg is a punch in the whole digestive system.
 

Dick Turpin

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The elephant's leg is a punch in the whole digestive system.
Of course this is true.

I got a dose of the Turkish equivalent of “Ghandi’s revenge” a few years back.

It took about 15 hours from the time I ate the damn thing, for it to get me.

It started with perhaps the worst migraine I have ever experienced, then stabbing pains in the stomach, which actually felt like I was being stabbed, followed by projectile vomiting, then the most violent diarrhoea which lasted until the early hours, seriously.

It took me a few days to get back to normal.

Still, it was soon forgotten and I was back in Mustapha’s the following Saturday night lol

“Mustapha, Mustapha, extra Chilli sauce on my one please mate”
 

Ogdred Weary

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Of course this is true.

I got a dose of the Turkish equivalent of “Ghandi’s revenge” a few years back.

It took about 15 hours from the time I ate the damn thing, for it to get me.

It started with perhaps the worst migraine I have ever experienced, then stabbing pains in the stomach, which actually felt like I was being stabbed, followed by projectile vomiting, then the most violent diarrhoea which lasted until the early hours, seriously.

It took me a few days to get back to normal.

Still, it was soon forgotten and I was back in Mustapha’s the following Saturday night lol

“Mustapha, Mustapha, extra Chilli sauce on my one please mate”
Selim II's revenge.
 

Dick Turpin

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You Mustapha more - it's addictive!
Ha Ha Nice one Myth.

I once woke up in a charming little kebab house called the Saray in Lea Bridge Road, Hackney.

This place was always open literally 24 hours a day, there was the normal takeaway part of the shop, then a set of double doors and a very thick red velvet curtain, that led to the “restaurant” part of the place.

I sort of remember going in there with a group of mates, but nothing else.

What I do remember however was being woken up about 9am by the owner, who didn’t speak much English, and certainly didn’t appreciate me sleeping overnight in his outside toilet.
 

Mythopoeika

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Ha Ha Nice one Myth.

I once woke up in a charming little kebab house called the Saray in Lea Bridge Road, Hackney.

This place was always open literally 24 hours a day, there was the normal takeaway part of the shop, then a set of double doors and a very thick red velvet curtain, that led to the “restaurant” part of the place.

I sort of remember going in there with a group of mates, but nothing else.

What I do remember however was being woken up about 9am by the owner, who didn’t speak much English, and certainly didn’t appreciate me sleeping overnight in his outside toilet.
Bet that was fragrant!
 
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