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

How about getting rip-roaring drunk while enjoying works by your favorite singer, passing out, then days later receiving documentation certifying that you'd changed your name ...

... to Céline Dion?
Man gets wasted, legally changes name to Celine Dion

A Céline Dion superfan in the UK got drunk and legally changed his name to hers — then promptly forgot about it.

But it’s all coming back to him now.

The 30-year-old Céline Dion — né Thomas Dodd — told The Post that he came up with the idea while boozing it up and watching a TV concert by the 52-year-old Canadian crooner on Christmas Eve — because he loves her.

“She [is] my go-to person I listen to when I need cheering up” ...

He said he spent much of the pandemic watching concerts while at home, including one by Dion over the holiday that was accompanied by a magnum of Champagne given to him by a friend. “That’ll probably explain a lot!” he said.

While enjoying the show, he plunked down 89 pounds (about $122) and officially took her name via an online application. However, the details are a bit fuzzy.

“I honestly, hand on heart, don’t remember doing it!” he said. “I remember watching the concert and remember getting rather tipsy.”

Days later, he came home from work as a hospitality manager in Staffordshire, England, to find an envelope with documentation waiting for him.

“I wasn’t aware I had done it until I found that envelope in my post,” he explained. “Initially, I had to sit down as I couldn’t believe it — so I then checked my bank which confirmed it all.” ...

He shared images of his “change of name deed” on Twitter — yes, he did update his social media name to reflect the side-splitting switch — which includes his old signature, plus a new one in a box marked “MR CELINE DION.” ...
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FULL STORY: https://nypost.com/2021/01/01/uk-man-gets-drunk-and-legally-changes-name-to-celine-dion/
 
Reading my previous post, #18, a further related anecdote came to mind.

We were staying in a large, rather posh, 4 star hotel, south of Tel Aviv. Because it was winter, the hotel was quiet, relatively inexpensive and part of a package deal - £99 for one week and flights courtesy of Venus airlines!

We had travelled a week before the game to make a holiday out of it.

Although there was a lovely beach next to the hotel, it was slightly spoiled by occasional balls of thick black oil, presumably washed ashore from oil spill pollution.

You had to be careful and unfortunately on our last night, returning at late evening from an all day booze session in a beachfront bar, we were not quite so vigilant.

Only a couple of hours later, I recall as we closed the door of our hotel room one final time early next morning, looking along the long corridor with it's plush carpet and observing to Dave, 'I think we might have stood on some off those oil globules on our way back in the dark..'.

So far as you could see, was a trail of four, deeply impressed in the carpet, black footprints, which doubtless extended all the way back to the hotel's entrance...

Would be fair to say, we departed somewhat promptly.

I hope they, 'washed out' OK... :oops:
 
EnolaGaia said:
Someone else's, of course! :twisted:
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stage-hook_resize_28.jpg
 
I'm not much of a drinker these days, but have done my share of boozy carousing over the years, particularly as a student. On my 20th birthday I was out with the girls with whom I lived at the local student local, drinking copious amounts of K cider with whisky chasers. I remember leaving said pub for a nightclub, and then the lights were coming up for the end of the night in the club, and I have no idea what went on in between!

On the day after my 19th birthday I was at a friend's house for a BBQ and got completely hammered on red wine. My friend offered to walk me partway home; we said goodbye at one of the roundabouts in Plymouth, and I have vague recollections of striding up North Road West under orange sodium haze, trying to look sober as you do. My friend, on the other hand, had set off the other way on his bike, and when he woke up the following morning, discovered that his front wheel was buckled - how, not a clue.

Alcohol-induced missing time is a strange thing.
 
bugmum said:
I'm not much of a drinker these days, but have done my share of boozy carousing over the years, particularly as a student. On my 20th birthday I was out with the girls with whom I lived at the local student local, drinking copious amounts of K cider with whisky chasers. I remember leaving said pub for a nightclub, and then the lights were coming up for the end of the night in the club, and I have no idea what went on in between!

On the day after my 19th birthday I was at a friend's house for a BBQ and got completely hammered on red wine. My friend offered to walk me partway home; we said goodbye at one of the roundabouts in Plymouth, and I have vague recollections of striding up North Road West under orange sodium haze, trying to look sober as you do. My friend, on the other hand, had set off the other way on his bike, and when he woke up the following morning, discovered that his front wheel was buckled - how, not a clue.

Alcohol-induced missing time is a strange thing.
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It's why I gave up getting drunk on a Friday night. Worried the heck out of me.
 
onetwothree said:
Jade Goody (whilst on Big Brother) referred to an intimate part of her anatomy as her 'kebab'.

I wish I didn't know that, but alas. I do.

(Makes your answer strangely appropriate even with this potential new meaning. :evillaugh:)
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I guess it sounds better than "beef curtains". Taco is also an alternative name. :chuckle:
 
I wonder if hers was like a freshly constructed kebab or was it more like the kind of badly packed monstrosity that you have 10 minutes after purchasing the damned thing?
 
Sgt Girth said:
I wonder if hers was like a freshly constructed kebab or was it more like the kind of badly packed monstrosity that you have 10 minutes after purchasing the damned thing?
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
 
Dick Turpin said:
Coming out of a nightclub in Woodford, in the early hours one Sunday morning, the future wife spots a vacant mini cab waiting for a fare, obviously mini cabs are at a premium at that time of the morning, so she successfully makes dash for it, negotiates the fare with the driver, and is sitting in the back seat of the cab waiting for me to catch up.

As I come trotting along behind, I trip over my drunken feet, and my head goes crashing into the driver’s side window.

As it was summer and the window was half open, my head goes completely through the glass, the driver thinking that he has come under attack, drives off at high speed leaving the missus in the back seat, and me sitting on the pavement bleeding and dazed.

I go back to the nightclub for help and hopefully first aid, but the bouncers tell me to FO, and as no other taxi’s would take me due to me being covered in blood, I had to walk the 8 miles or so back home to Shoreditch.

Not one of my better moments – 9 stiches directly underneath the nostrils, 4 in my nose, 4 in my forehead and within a day or two massive black eyes.

Although that sounds horrific, it gave me something to tell the lads in work about, and the missus still pisses herself laughing every time it comes up in conversation

It’s left no lasting damage, although I still have the scars under the nostrils.
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Idk why but that story really tickled me
 
I have a few stories of drunken escapades. In chronilogical order:-
When i was in my late teens me and a group of friends would frequent a local nightclub where the drinks were £1 a pint for mostof the evening, ensuring we were always pretty merry when we left, one night/morning after leaving we were passing an old petrol station that was in the process of being demolished, in our drunken state we decided it might be fun to explore the building, it was an old building set over 2 floors, not like your fancy purpose built petrol stations you get nowadays, after exploring the ground floor in almost pitch dark we found the stairs and made our way to the 1st floor where it was even darker, we made it to the middle of what was just an open plan area, i got out my zippo so we could have a proper nose around and discovered that some how we had made it to the centre of a room that had no floorboards, either by dumb luck or some guardian angels working overtime none of the 4 of us had fallen through the floor and broken our necks, the journey back to the stairs was a lot slower and more cautious.

Tne next incident took place at Glastonbury festival circa 1998/9, it was one of the rare hot and sunny festivals. After arriving on the wednesday and spending 2 days drinking copiously a friend and i met a couple of Finnish girls, we found somewhere near one of the marquees to sit, we drink and smoke for a while and they produced some home made licorice vodka and i remember very little after a couple of glugs of said drink. The next morning my friend enquired as to how my head was, i replied it was ok, a bit of a hangover but id had worse, he looked at me and asked about the back of my head, i was a bit puzzled and put my hand to the back of my head to discover that it was caked in dried blood, he went on to explain that at some point after my memory failed me i had stood up, taken a large gulp of vodka and fallen in a comedy fashion, straight backwards and cracked my head open on one of the poles holding up the marquee, luckily it didnt affect my weekend and i carried on drinking for the rest of the festival.

The last incident happenen a few years later, i was walking home after a heavy night of drinking with my friends, i remember starting the walk but the next thing i remember is waking up 3 hours later laying in a side road flat on my back in the rain (it was dry when i set off) i got up and saw a nice crime scene style dry patch of my body speadeagled in the road.
 
CarlosTheDJ said:
We were out yesterday afternoon for a few ales, settled on a powerful craft brew called 'Dank Marvin' which had enough hops to floor Ozzy Osbourne. Long story short...there's a lemon cake in the kitchen and I have no idea how it got there.
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I quite often got up after a friday night out, having put my clorhes on to wash before i went out, to find that the washing fairies had put my clothes in the dryer and turned it on for me, and before you ask, no i was living on my own, i pretty sure its not a fortean incident, but i have no memory of doing it lol
 
XBergMann said:
Here's my contribution to this topic, sadly not very exciting at first glance but still a mystery to me some 12 years later.

Back in 2007 I lived in Frankfurt, Germany. Now, Frankfurt is quite a strange town at the weekend as most people with any sort of a decent job seem to live in the small villages that surround Frankfurt and as a result on a Saturday night central Frankfurt can seem a bit quiet.

Anyway I happened to wander into a small bar in central Frankfurt and took a seat on a stool at the long wooden counter. I had several beers and was chatting on and off with the barstaff in my reasonably fluent German.

After about 30 minutes a really pretty German girl arrived and also sat at the bar 3 stools down from me.

I ended up chatting with her too and we went to sit at one of the tables and carried on drinking and chatting. In total by this time I would have drunk 3 beers and had started on my fourth. Draft Becks being my beer of choice in those days, the time would have been about 10:30 pm by the time beer number 4 was being consumed.

Next thing I know I am waking up in my bed at home alone, wearing my boxer shorts and a t-shirt, my clothes on the floor, I had only spent about 30 Euros the night before and there was no money missing. I just have a complete blank after around 10:30pm and have no idea how I got home. The strange thing is I wasn't really drunk after just 4 half litre Becks.

I did go back to the bar that (Sunday) afternoon but the day time staff were on duty so there was no one there I could ask about the night before.

I have never had another missing time incident since.

The only really annoying thing is that I remember the German girl as being really pretty and I have no idea where either she or the time went.
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Rhohipnal?
 
Morning all I’ve woken up in a skip covered in a light covering of snow not a clue how I got there.
This was in my early twenties thought hmm okay I will walk back to my flat.
Then discovered I was in leeds about 20 miles from my home town I still have no idea how I got there.When I eventually got back my mates said I just left the pub and said I was going home :confused:
 
Souleater said:
I have a few stories of drunken escapades. In chronilogical order:-
When i was in my late teens me and a group of friends would frequent a local nightclub where the drinks were £1 a pint for mostof the evening, ensuring we were always pretty merry when we left, one night/morning after leaving we were passing an old petrol station that was in the process of being demolished, in our drunken state we decided it might be fun to explore the building, it was an old building set over 2 floors, not like your fancy purpose built petrol stations you get nowadays, after exploring the ground floor in almost pitch dark we found the stairs and made our way to the 1st floor where it was even darker, we made it to the middle of what was just an open plan area, i got out my zippo so we could have a proper nose around and discovered that some how we had made it to the centre of a room that had no floorboards, either by dumb luck or some guardian angels working overtime none of the 4 of us had fallen through the floor and broken our necks, the journey back to the stairs was a lot slower and more cautious.

Tne next incident took place at Glastonbury festival circa 1998/9, it was one of the rare hot and sunny festivals. After arriving on the wednesday and spending 2 days drinking copiously a friend and i met a couple of Finnish girls, we found somewhere near one of the marquees to sit, we drink and smoke for a while and they produced some home made licorice vodka and i remember very little after a couple of glugs of said drink. The next morning my friend enquired as to how my head was, i replied it was ok, a bit of a hangover but id had worse, he looked at me and asked about the back of my head, i was a bit puzzled and put my hand to the back of my head to discover that it was caked in dried blood, he went on to explain that at some point after my memory failed me i had stood up, taken a large gulp of vodka and fallen in a comedy fashion, straight backwards and cracked my head open on one of the poles holding up the marquee, luckily it didnt affect my weekend and i carried on drinking for the rest of the festival.

The last incident happenen a few years later, i was walking home after a heavy night of drinking with my friends, i remember starting the walk but the next thing i remember is waking up 3 hours later laying in a side road flat on my back in the rain (it was dry when i set off) i got up and saw a nice crime scene style dry patch of my body speadeagled in the road.
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Bloody hell, if you and @Dick Turpin went on a bender together it would probably rip a hole in reality.
 
A friend told me some stories of an alcoholic he worked with many years ago. The office they were in had a heavy drinking culture, liquid lunch a few times a week and a midweek and and Friday trip to the pub regularly occurred. As the guy had so much already booze in his system he would often be bladdered after a few drinks and often head home early and due to being constantly pissed he would often loose control of his bowels, either in the pub or on the way home.

On one occasion he soiled himself in the pub, when to the local M&S that was open late and bought a new pair, he went into the train toilets to change into his new garments, throwing his old excrement encrusted trousers out of the window... only to discover he'd actually bought a suit jacket. On another occasion he'd shat himself on the train, got in shoved his trousers in the washing machine and went to bed, only to be awoken the next morning by his wife screaming "did you shit yourself last night?" a charge he denied. She then asked him why there were shitty trousers in the tumble dryer. Apparently the house also stank of baked shit for some time afterwards. Poor woman. Good stories but I've never seen a train toilet with an opening window, maybe they used to have them long enough ago.
 
Keep up these stories!

I have had to give up drinking because of some weird allergy to alcohol that's been triggered, meaning I now get crushing, day-wasting migraines after the smallest sip, and these stories are helping me to keep to it.

I have NEVER, even at my most drunken, lost time or memory. Which means I can always remember the awful, stupid and cringeworthy things I did, so maybe giving up is all for the best!
 
I don't have anything extreme to contribute but a few daft stories.

Emetophobes be warned the first one involves vomit.

It was my second year at university. I was always an early riser back then so it wasn't unusual for me to awake to find that my housemates had made a bit of a mess. What was a surprise this time though was to find a pool of vomit on the doorstep which was in two perfect concentric circles. Either my housemate had somehow managed to control his vomit for it to land like that or the other option is too horrible to contemplate. I asked him but he didn't remember being sick.

The second story is just silly. This would have been my final year at university. I'd had a bit to drink and was found in the kitchen in paroxysms of laughter pointing at a piece of bread with honey on in. In between outbursts of laughter I am shouting ''It looks like a fish, it looks like a fish'' I do actually remember this, but why on earth I found a bit of bread with honey on so slide splittingly funny I do not know. It didn't even look like a fish.
 
Jepra Peld said:
The second story is just silly. This would have been my final year at university. I'd had a bit to drink and was found in the kitchen in paroxysms of laughter pointing at a piece of bread with honey on in. In between outbursts of laughter I am shouting ''It looks like a fish, it looks like a fish'' I do actually remember this, but why on earth I found a bit of bread with honey on so slide splittingly funny I do not know. It didn't even look like a fish.
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Were you drinking ayahausca?
 
Ogdred Weary said:
A friend told me some stories of an alcoholic he worked with many years ago. The office they were in had a heavy drinking culture, liquid lunch a few times a week and a midweek and and Friday trip to the pub regularly occurred. As the guy had so much already booze in his system he would often be bladdered after a few drinks and often head home early and due to being constantly pissed he would often loose control of his bowels, either in the pub or on the way home.

On one occasion he soiled himself in the pub, when to the local M&S that was open late and bought a new pair, he went into the train toilets to change into his new garments, throwing his old excrement encrusted trousers out of the window... only to discover he'd actually bought a suit jacket.
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Hmmm.....not saying it didn't happen but I've heard Spike Milligan tell a very similar story. I think in his version the man buys new trousers but picks up the wrong carrier bag somehow, chucks soiled trousers out train window, then find he's got a woman's cardigan in the bag. The addition being he wears the cardigan on his lower half, stretching the arms to get his legs in. He had a coat or jacket to go over the top.

Buying a jacket instead of trousers if you've crapped in them doesn't sound too likely even when pissed.
 
hunck said:
Hmmm.....not saying it didn't happen but I've heard Spike Milligan tell a very similar story. I think in his version the man buys new trousers but picks up the wrong carrier bag somehow, chucks soiled trousers out train window, then find he's got a woman's cardigan in the bag. The addition being he wears the cardigan on his lower half, stretching the arms to get his legs in. He had a coat or jacket to go over the top.

Buying a jacket instead of trousers if you've crapped in them doesn't sound too likely even when pissed.
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Yeah, it always had the air of untruth about it to me, toom much like the set up and punchline of a joke. Maybe he could have thought he had bought a whole suit but that seems unlikely.
 
I once worked with a bloke who was invited out on a client lunch.

He’s wasn’t really a big drinker was Brian. He had a few pre-lunch beers, then a few glasses of wine over the lunch itself, and that’s all he could remember. He woke up slumped over 2 seats on a train over 30 miles away from where he lived. He then preceded to get on another wrong train, taking him even further away from where he should be.

Eventfully he sobered up enough to sort himself out and get back home, however when he did manage to make it back, he put the key in the front door, and as it opened he could hear the theme tune of the Australian soap Neighbours just stating……….yes it was only half past five in the evening.

That’s some lightweight. :D
 
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