Regrets? I’ve had a few…but then again, I did get shit-faced.
I’ve just remembered this one…

Many, many years back, I was regularly and delicately tickling the proverbial fancy of a luscious and frisky young maiden. Happy days.

I would, on occasion, entertain her in the time-honoured tradition of taking her down the local pub and getting her squiffy, before dropping trollies and attempting said rudies as rapidly as possible on arrival home before my wood subsided -as tended to happen after copious amounts of cider.

(I know…Casanova would’ve been proud)

Anyhoo, on one occasion I was lining up at the bar asking for my usual, when I noticed a couple of clear(ish) plastic tubs up on a shelf containing what can only be described as lightly-coloured icy gloop. (There wasn’t even those crappy fluorescent, star-shaped, half-arsed promotional thingies you get in pubs to say what the offer was). I had to ask…

“What the fuck’s that?” I gently enquire, in a semi hypnotic state whilst watching the stirring rotor blades operating within each container.

“Alcoholic Slush Puppies” Said the cumly bar wench. Pointing to one container she continued: “There’s vodka and orange in that one, and tequila and raspberry (??? if I remember correctly - it was light blue) in the other. Works out at about 4 shots per glass apparently.”

“Shit the bed!” I profess enthusiastically, conveniently forgetting that I am now in conversation on what must be one of the gayest drinks in the world. “How much?” I ask.

“Cunted if I know” The serving maid replies (Am I correctly conveying the message that I’m not in exactly the most sophisticated and distinguished of establishments here?). “Nobody’s asked for one yet” (I stand back in amazement). She continues: “I’ll check on the till”.

She approaches the till, which just happens to be one of those touch screen jobs that has a direct link to the brewery database…Can you see where this is going?

I then hear the four words that take this story to it’s wonderful turn...

“This can’t be right” The perplexed strumpet exclaims, “It’s only counting as a fruit drink, and they’re 50p each”

I keep my composure and expertly disguise my jubilance, being careful not to let on that a massive neon sign has just lit up in my head, surrounded with sirens, explosions and fireworks all spelling out the words ‘FREE ALCOHOL!’….

I took a deep breath…….

“WOOOOOOOOOO-FUCKING-HOOOOOO!!!!!!. I’LL TAKE 10 OF EACH!” I scream, waving my arms around widly and jumping in the air, clicking my heels like Morecambe and Wise used to do.

£10 and several brain-freezing minutes later, my ladyfriend and I have slipped quite merrily off our respective mental-boxes. Abso-fucking-lutely twatted.

My companion then has a stroke of wisdom. “Let’s just keep this to ourselves” She requests. “Nobody else will order this stuff, nobody’ll find out for ages – we’ll be proper sorted”

This girlfriend was a lady of intelligence, beauty and compassion. Now it might have been due to the alcohol, but unfortunately for her, she forgot for a brief instance that I was a loud, gobby cock-rot who is incapable of keeping a secret.

She may as well have put an advert out to be broadcast in the middle of ‘Coronation Street’

Within one week I had packed the place out with friends, relatives, colleagues and basically anybody who’d listen to me; all insisting that they were served by the one barmaid who was obviously too thick to have the initiative to question the till. What a sight we must have all looked – From young whippersnappers to OAPs…boys and girls, men and women…all drinking these wussy little slush cocktail things…and all getting utterly arse-holed

Unsurprisingly, we got busted pretty soon after and the price went up to £5 a drink. Cue the pub being deserted from that minute on, and everybody blaming me because each individual thought that I should have told just them, and nobody else.

Length? About three inches…and it smashed your fucking face in.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Sun 11 Nov 2007, 18:07, 2 replies)

sniff sniff
Poo, why didn't you tell me? I'm crushed.

No, not really, couldn't have afforded the cross Atlantic ticket. But it woulda been fun!
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Sun 11 Nov 2007, 19:21, closed)

I had access to DIY alco-slushies once.
We were on an all-in, in the Bahamas so the only restriction on booze was the length of the bar queue, then I spied them.

A twin machine as you describe, but not filled with chemical neon shite like here. The stuff contained therein was ambrosia (nectar of the gods - not custard). One was a delightful mixture tasting mostly of fresh strawberries, the other was a coconut and pineapple affair, much like pina-colada. I'd seen these before, but assumed that they were just for the non-drinkers, until I spied the bottles of rum kindly provided alongside.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmm...........
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Mon 12 Nov 2007, 8:57, closed)