This one was classic stupidity
I went to school with a guy whose parents had made a bundle of money in the USA, then come back to blighty, they had a huuuge mansion type house, anyway they threw a party to celebrate their anniversary, someone's birthday and one of the kids graduating from uni. We were 16 I suppose, and the bar was free (I brushed my teeth with champagne just coz it was free and I could). Anyway one of our mates was a bit of a lightweight (I was well pissed as well), and had to be put to bed, on the way there he projectile vomited on this inch deep red carpet so I took him into the nearest bathroom to clean him up a bit. Me and my other mate Jamie put him in the shower and took his puked on shirt off, which I put in the sink with the taps on. When we looked round the fucker had legged it so we had to go find him (he was in a bedroom down the hallway puking on the floor again). So we picked him up by the hands and feet, but Jamie dropped his hands so I just dragged him giving him quite nasty carpet burns on his back (karma? carpet gets its own back?). When we got back to the bathroom the shirt had plugged the sink and water was cascading onto the floor. The guy who owns the place comes up screaming "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!!! THE FUCKING KITCHEN CEILING IS PISSING WATER!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS ON THE CARPET!!!" So I had flooded the kitchen. The pissed guy's dad came to pick him up, then they started accusing us of beating him because of the burns on his back. Otherwise it was a totally successful evening.
(mr pete, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:35, Reply)

Cerebral Palsy + E = a bit of a mess
Again booze and drugs, so what are we learning children ? booze and drugs dont mix !! (well sometimes). Again early 90's and anyone who remembers the Wasp Factory or Alpha raves from Plymouth may be able to confirm small details. There was a guy who I assume had cerebral palsy and was wheelchair bound who was always at the Warehouse (Union St Plymouth) raving away. Anyone who knows the warehouse will tell you the club has about three terraces that slope up away from the dancefloor and stairs either side of the terraces. The steps were a real bugger being of irregular depth and height making for a great many trips and falls. I had taken numerous pills none of which seemed to work of course until they all did at once as I was ascending the stairs. I manage to fall UP stairs and land ontop of this guy in his wheelchair and pass out!!!!! bad bad bad bad raver people where not happy at all (everyone thought I had attacked him) and I (when I came round) was most embarrased and apologetic but I couldnt really make myself understood.

EDIT: This is the second story involving me falling onto people. Honest I wasnt just copping a feel.
(bblac didnt get the new job booo rotten bastards, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:32, Reply)

The last time I was proper fucked...
It was Halloween 2003- I was wearing an Early Learning Centre policeman's uniform, that made me look like Robocop's soft-lad brother. It was at about 4 am that we started releasing the helium balloons with my police notepaper containing notes such as "Help! I'm trapped in a balloon factory!" and various other words of wisdom.

I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise to whoever found the one marked simply "Congratulations- you are a cunt!"
(Me and your sisters- at it. DVDs/Videos 10 quid., Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:31, Reply)

Bugger!
I get dont drunk! And never work at drink it can you get trouble in. Gotta go, piss a need!
(Mapper, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:21, Reply)

I once got wrecked on tequila
and I puked all over the tits of this girl I was shagging. She was fat so it didnt matter.
(ruck0r, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:17, Reply)

When England beat Germany 5-1 in the world cup
I remember drinking all day. My memory fails after paying £79 for a bottle of champagne. I have no recollection of the next few hours, and came round walking down the street. I jumped on a random bus. After quite a long time I suddenly regained some sense and realised all the houses we were passing looked quite large. From this I determined I was in West London. I needed to be in the East. So I got off the bus. The next few hours were spent wandering aimlessly or sitting on the pavement. I then flagged a black cab, but when the driver asked me where I wanted to go, I couldn't remember the name of the place in which I'd been living on and off for years, so I just stood there and smiled.

I finally remembered 'Stratford'. The driver didn't turn on the meter. After arriving, when he asked for the fare, I couldn't focus on my notes so I threw them all at him. I got out and walked in the wrong direction. When I got to Plaistow I realised my mistake. I got home at 4:30am. My girlfriend began screaming at me because she "was so worried." I just stood and smiled. I then sat on a chair in the hallway with my jeans and shorts round my ankles and pissed. I think I thought it was the toilet. I'd spent around £300. The hangover lasted for 3 days.
(ImprobableFrontman, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:11, Reply)

My old boss
I worked for this mental welsh bloke, he went a bit off the rails when his wife left him. He woke up one morning slumped upright in a phone box, with his trousers round his ankles, having shat himself during the night. Which I imagine was quite a memorable image for people walking past on their way to work.
(mr pete, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:05, Reply)

Hic
On a recent trip to Dublin which my brother very kindly paid for as a birthday treat i downed a whole can of Fosters Lager. Hard bastard me!
(Mapper, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:03, Reply)

Bit of a job to narrow it down to one but this has to be the worst.
Four of us had joined a group of Swedes on a ferry across the Baltic between Stockholm and Turku in Finland. First stop was getting a bollocking for drinking duty-free vodka in the cabins, being English was not an excuse as all the warning signs had translations. Next was the restaurant, with free beer on tap.

After much drinking, laughing at Finnish mullets, karaoke and gambling, myself and (new_)matt decided to borrow a trolley from the duty free supermarket. I was then pushed down the very long, straight aisles of the cabin deck at high speed. We then went off to make fun of someone in sandals I think.

I woke up the next day with two large burns on my chest (which took about 4 weeks to heal). I wasn’t quite sure what had happened but matt was apparently seen dragging me across the floor of the cabin deck by my ankles, although I doubt he would have got up sufficient momentum to cause the burns. I have vague recollections of demonstrating a Klinsmann goal celebration on a particularly abrasive carpet.

After having passed out, someone was kind enough to take a picture of me exposing my tadger.
(wilby, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:02, Reply)

The liver is evil and must be punished
I had been seeing this girl for about a week, we went out and got shitfaced then came back to her place. Apparently I got up in the middle of the night, walked over to the corner of her room and pissed on a pile of her clothes. Then I sat down cross legged on the floor and went back to sleep. I can't remember doing this, she says she put me back to bed afterwards. And she didn't even chuck me!
(mr pete, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:01, Reply)

I spent my 19th birthday..
...passed out on a tree stump in the grounds of Southampton University.

My hallmates had all bought me triple JD & cokes telling me they were singles, of course I knew they were blatantly lying but I decided in my wisdom to let them carry out their joke, as after all, it was free drink.

All went well, we left the hall bar at 11:30-ish and started on the (less than 200m) walk back to halls. There was a burger/'bab shop on site and I can only imagine I detoured via there and got split up with the main group

I was woken up about 3am by a security guard who was helpful to a point and showed me that I was in fact, only about 10 metres away from my halls, and he kindly pointed out, I was sleeping on a treestump.

These halls had 3 levels of security to bypas, a 4-digit keypad entry which I managed to get through on only the 10th attempt or so.

The final stage was my own room door which I knew I'd left unlocked.. my keys being in my room for "safekeeping".

It was the middle stage of security that caused the problems. There was an internal lockable door that we NEVER locked, it was always on the latch so that we could meander around our floor without being encumbered with keyrings.

Apart from that night. It was damnded locked.

I spent the night until about 7am trying to kip in the stairwell. Eventually someone got up to use the loo and I managed to get them to let me in.

Peculiarly, I went to my 9am Chemistry lecture before passing out for the rest of the day
(Ariaxen, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 14:00, Reply)

have recalled a time
while in final year of university - a friend and i decided that a first and last night out in the union was a good idea.

having spent the evening eating speed and drinking enormous amounts of cider, i was very much worse for wear. While queueing for a pint, a guy barged past me and stood at the bar in front of me. Reasonably, I questioned him: "what the fuck are you doing, you cunt?" and gave him a shove.

Imagine my shame when I noticed his white stick and the looks of horror from everyone. gah.
(Anger...Pain...Fear...Aggression...Watercolours?, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:59, Reply)

The train story below reminds me..
We were going to France on the Plymouth to Roskoff ferry, and got very drunk indeed at the bar. There was a really bad storm at the time.

We worked out that if we ran along and jumped in the air when the boat hit the crest of a wave, we could fly for miles. Inevitably, the fun ended when I managed to stuff my head into a light fitting in one of the corridors. I think I needed something like 20 stitches.
(8-Ball, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:58, Reply)

Oh shit!
Me and a friend went out on the lash to a club near where she lives. At the end of the night we were both pretty worse for wear but suprisingly my mate managed to pull. We all went back to hers and had a few more drinks before deciding to go to bed.
She came into my room in the morning to wake me on her way to get a drink leaving her new bloke upstairs. I was still very worse for wear and still half asleep when she woke me and I proceeded to tell her about a very weird dream that I'd had in which I had shit in her kitchen sink downstairs. Startled by what I'd said I got up and followed her downstairs to get a drink for myself as well.
She put her hand in the kitchen sink bowl which was full of water and dirty dishes to rinse of a few glasses when she jumped back and screamed. Her scream was followed by an almighty smell of shit wafting through her kitchen and I realised that my dream wasn't a dream at all! I grabbed the bowl and ran upstairs to the bathroom where I was going to empty it when I ran into her bloke - who was coming down to see why my friend was screaming - emptying the contents of the bowl all over him and the carpet. After cleaning up the mess I apologised and made a swift exit.
The look of disgust on her face and the memory of this incident will haunt me for life. Needless to say we don't keep in touch anymore......!
(Get me outta here!, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:55, Reply)

ok not brill but sweet.
Me
Last halloween uni club bash. Im dressed up as a white rabit, with dangling blood from my mouth (monty python and holy grail) Was really depressed so I decided to non top drink for the first time. Some girl kept bringing them in and next thing I know I wake up in a toilet cubical with mu head resting comfortably on the loo roll. I zonked out for 40 minutes and ended up stagering home alone, endign uo going into halls fof residence 2 halls away wondering where the fuck I was before crawling back to sleep under the bed...ahhh
( Blobcat Less Jaffacakes this year, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:51, Reply)

Im a lightweight :'(
I ended up on the way back home from lincoln lying down on the luggage rack, and falling off (nearly breaking my ankle). And then seeing how fast i could run down the aisles (Which were full of people) when the train turned a corner.

Usual stuff. Not that exciting. Cept i fell over the sofa when i got home, cos i walked into the door edge-on, much to the amusement of my father.

'I only had a bottle!'
(Attention Whore, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:49, Reply)

Lost: 1 pair of glasses
Last summer we went out drinking after my work and ended up at Intoxicate - a night club in Cambridge. I went home at around 2am, and got lost. I ended up on the Backs about 3 miles from my house. I started to walk home but got very tired near the Magdalen college. So I forced my way into this big bushy tree, and made myself comfortable. Then I thought that I might roll on my glasses, so I took them off and dropped them at arms length in the middle of this very dark bush. I then thought that I might get robbed while I was sleeping there, so I took my wallet out my pocket and dug a hole, put my wallet in, and then covered it up. I woke up at 4am, and ordered a taxi. When the taxi came I realised that I didn't have my wallet. I managed to find my wallet but couldn't find my glasses. So if any1 happens to be sleeping in the tree outside the Town and Gown and finds a pair of glasses, I would like to have them back.
cheers,
Thrain
(thrain, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:46, Reply)

I went to a Goth bar a few years back
with my friend Jess. I was Gothed up, long dress, fishnet stockings, mantle, etc.

Being allergic to smoke, I took an allergy tablet before we entered the bar. I normally had a high alcohol tolerance, but being young and naive had never combined alcohol and antihistamines.

Six drinks later, I stumbled into the toilet to let some out and make room for more. As I stepped out of the cubicle, four vampirish girls looked me up and down and giggled, but said nothing. I said hello, and they were friendly, but didn't indicate the source of their amusement.

As I reached for the door back out to the bar, I looked down and noticed my calf-length dress was tucked up in the waistband of my fishnets, all the way around. I quickly pulled it out and raced out of the toilet, and told Jes what happened. She immediately put her head down on the table, covered it with the hood of her mantle, and I watched her shoulders shake violently with laughter for several minutes. When she regained her Gothic compsure, she turned to her boyfriend and said "It's time to get Ali some food, she's done for the night!" The story had just enough time to make it around the bar before we made it out onto the street!
(ghettobooty, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:40, Reply)

Not fun!
Ok a few years ago me and my man were living in a shared house with 2 of his mates. My parents were visiting for the first time and were looking forward to meeting all my new friends so off we pootled to the pub. Now I have to point out that my Ma and Pa have their own pub so are no stranger to drunken idiots and drunken idiot daughter and all her mates. We were all on edge as this was the first time they were to meet my boyfriend and had already stated a very strong case for not liking him (something to do with leading their daughter astray)

So everyone was buying lots of drinks to break the ice and unfortunately my flatmates girlfriend got a little shall we say tipsy. Later that evening she got thrown out of a nightclub and ended up on our door step. Being the caring person I am I put her in her boyfriends bed to await his return and tried to get back to sleep.

At around 4 I was woken up by lots of commotion so I staggered out of my room to see what was going on. It appears that after she went to sleep she lost control of all her faculties and messed the bed. She had woken herself up by also being sick at the same time and at this point was trying to hide the evidence before her other half got home.

In her drunken state she decided the best way to do this was to flush everything down the toilet the dress she was wearing and the duvet!!!!

So there I am at 5 in the morning mopping up god knows what intime for the parents to come round at 7. Luckily the saw the funny side (I don't think she did) and spent lots of time winding her up.
( flurokitty 3, 2, 1 lets jam! (+.[___]·:·), Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:37, Reply)

Oh the happy memories....
... This took place about a week before the election in 1997, when Conservatives were ousted from government after nearly 20 years. I was 17 and still at school. At 17 I was something of a Tequila fan and on a rather bizarre night out in Chiswick I had been drinking pints of lager with Tequila chasers. (I feel slighty nauseous even typing this).

At the bar, who should I spy but Peter Stringfellow, decked out in a white suit, white shirt, white waistcoat, white tie, white shoes (you get the picture), teamed with THE BIGGEST, bluest, Conservative rosette I have ever seen. Something of a teenage socialist, I waltzed up and harangued him loudly in front of a gathering crowd, critisising not only his political persuasion but also the (v young) age of his then girlfriend.

His reaction? To reach into his breast pocket and peel a postcard of himself naked off the enormous pile, sign it, present it to me with a pat on the head and a shot of Tequila. Eeeeuuuuwwwwwww! Cranberry.

Addendum: The evening ended with me losing my friends, falling asleep on a bench, getting lost, reverse charge calling my mother to come and find me, whilst vomiting in the phone box. When I got home we discovered that my car had been stolen and I had to spend the next hour being interviewed by the police. This is still my mother's favourite story for telling new boyfriends. I haven't touched a drop since.

*well, not a drop of Tequila anyway...
( Dekazer, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:35, Reply)

hitting the heights
A group of friends decided to go swimming, meeting in the pub first, of course. No food and six pints later, we arrived at the Bon Accord baths in Aberdeen. Full of dutch courage, I decided to leap off of the (very high) top diving board for the first time in my life. Screaming "Geronimo" at the top of my voice I hit the water at about 150 miles an hour with my gob still wide open. I surfaced minus every filling in my mouth and two front teeth. What a laff.
(Chillumm, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:10, Reply)

Crump! Crump! CRUMP!
Right, so me and my girlfriend were throwing a house party to celebrate the end of our final year at Sixth Form and the start of summer. Everyone got absolutely plastered, as always, but most were able to grab a bed and sleep till morning.

At about 4am, (10 Eastern Time, 11 Central), laying in bed, me and said girlfriend heard this noise. It said the following: 'kerrump, Kerrump, KERRUMP!'. Notably concerned about what was happening, we tip-toed downstairs, blunt object in hand to ward off any break-ins.

We open the dining-room door to find....... 3 incredibly drunk people crushing plastic cups with 5-10kg weights! When confronted with questions, the leader merely replied 'Hey... why don't you join us? It's so fun!'. We declined and said to crush quietly, and then went back to bed.

On another note, I was once at a party where we thought it would be hilarious (to gain access to a room somebody had locked themselves in) to shoot party poppers under the door. Little did we realise that he was standing with his back to it... in bare feet.

'BANG!' went the poppers.
'BOLLOCKS!' said the Matt.
( The MooseBlaster, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:10, Reply)

The night bus story
reminds me of the day I just moved to Manor House, one of my friend was celbrating his 30th birthday in Brixton that evening, after drinks at his place, we went to the fridge, and then decided to go home with a couple of people living not far from my new address, at this stage, i had my shoes in my hands as I couldn't walk in them any more Anyway, we got to Trafalgar Square where we had to change bus. We thought we'd get on the same bus but since there was one going there way, I told them to jump on it and that I'd be fine making my way home. So off they went, 5 minutes later my bus turned up, I sat downstairs, shoes still in my hands, I must have fallen asleep pretty much straight away because the next thing I know, I'm woken up and decide to get off the bus. All i can see around me is a car park (not good) and a Waitrose trolley. I put my thinking cap on and decide I am in Holloway since there is such a supermarket there and start walking barefoot, until I realise that there is too much greenery and shrubs for it to be Holloway but you never know, as I'm quite new to that part of town maybe I'll recognise something. I keep walking and finally see to lads and decide to ask where I am, turns out I'm in Enfield (did not even know this place existed, or where it was), and they give me directions to the nearest cab office. I have learned my lesson, no more drunken outings on public transport.
(albator, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:09, Reply)

At university...
A flat mates 19th birthday took a few strange turns...

To set the scene, we had two weirdos in our flat, Ben (who's birthday it was) and Toby (Real names supplied on request).

So out we go, round a few pubs and then on to Rasputins, the dodgy vodka bar in Swansea. Cue large amounts of randomnly flavoured vodka being drunk.

Ben by this time is hideously drunk, yet instead of vomiting, he sits in the toilet in Rasputins for about half hour having a shit. Hmmm.

Whilst this is going on, Toby gets his knife out and starts demonstrating his "superior" reactions by doing the hand on the table / stabbing the knife between the fingers trick.

Russell decides (in a drunken state) that he can do it do, however gets his little knife out, says "fuck that, I'm hard too, watch this" and promptly stabs himself quite deeply on his forearm. Blood squirting, still grinning, I have him outside, hand on the centimetre deep hole, surrounded by blood he tells me proudly he's feeling dizzy...

So then, Ben staggers out the toilet. At this stage, we feel the need to get him and Russ home. Over to the taxi rank, where Ben promptly runs to the toilet again. Yawn...

Taxi comes, back to flat, Ben's in the toilet again having another shit (we still haven't figured out where it all came from).

Dump him on his bed, don't worry any more about it.

Morning comes. 12 o'clock, we decide to check on Ben. As we open his door, the smell hits us, as we turn on the light, a horrible sight strikes us.

3 separate piles of shit on the floor. Shit in the bin. Vomit on the floor. a hand print of shit on his pillow. He's rolling in the stuff.

He was an arrogant twat as well, this shut him up for a long time. Funniest was that he also called his mum to come help him clean his room.
( icezebra *insert large monkey*, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 13:06, Reply)

Two of my mates are brothers. In the familial sense.
Well, these lads are confirmed hard-core metal-heads. No womanly influence on their little plot of land for over three years. For sheer filth (dirt), and pornography, unbeatable. They keep snakes - non-poisonous ones, as a rule - as pets.

Right. Party. Get rat-arsed. I seem to recall whiskey, but I'm not a reliable witness, as you will find out.

At some stage I stagger around, making a vehement point, bottle in air, and sit down without looking. Miss the chair and sat down on a snake-tank. That broke into shards and cut a deep gash into my arse. I'm told I sat back even further and kept on ranting away, as if I'm on a comfy somfa and not sharded glass justing upwards.

To everyone's concerned 'Are you alright' I go, 'Yeah, of course, give me more beer', or something similar.

When I finally end up home three hours later, I jump into the shower, and notice the amount of blood gushing out of my back-side resembles the Niagare falls. And the cut is deep.

End up in emergency room, laying with me arse in the air. Additional fun was had when first a patch of arse-hair/fur had to be shaven off to get stitches and bandages on. This at three on a Sunday morning. Doctor looked fairly bemused. Pumped me full of all sorts of antibiotics and things.

Funnily enough, I didn't get bit by the tanks occupant.
(testingtestingtesting, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 12:56, Reply)

oooh
I remember leaving (being chucked out) of this pub about 3 miles from my house at 2am. Next thing I remember I was lying on my living room floor and my flatmate was looking down at me genuinely concerned:
"Where did you get the bike?"
"What bike?" I ask, trying to focus. Rather surprisingly he said
"That bike on top of you."
"Oh right..."
Somewhere along the way home I had managed to lose my wallet, gain a black eye, lump on head, and an expensive mountain bike. In my pissed up wisdom i decided to ride it 100 yards down the road to the police station to hand it in. I had to say 'ummm I found it'... went home and continued drinking. woke up naked on living room floor, ground floor of house trashed and clothes soaking wet and plastered with mud. I often wonder where the mud came from... I am not a heavy drinker now.
And one other time my mate and i were at gig, it was really bad so we decided to drink. We woke up with BIG hangovers in his room at his parents house, neither of us could remember how we got there! BTW his parents lived about 40 miles away. yay!
(meatatarian!, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 12:52, Reply)

it was a normal night... a night like any other...
i was in a club. the gloucester in brighton.

some goody song came on and so i joined floor for a mosh.

and we jumped up! and down.

and up! and down.

and i jump UP! then get knocked down by some munter hunter dislocating my knee and everyone fell onto me making sure that my knee stayed dislocated. properly.

...and then they all trod on my leg a few times whilst they attempted to get up.

cheers.


so anyway.. i get onto my foot, eventually, and hop over to some corner to nurse myself.

the pain is hooj. i hop to the bar and order double vodkas and orange two at a time to stifle it.

i got very drunk. the pain didn't go away. - i did hook up with some chick whilst sitting on the floor.

can't remember much about that though. lifes a bitch ain't it?


anyway.. 2 am and my mates just think i cant walk cos im drunk. so they DRAG me to a party 2 miles away (which wasn't even happening) forcing me to suedo walk and completely ignoring my protesting the fact i could not do so.
finally they let me rest and i pulled my trousers up (big flares) to expose this:




they called an ambulance, but not before one of my 'mates'had stolen my mobile fone from my trouser pocket (WHILST I WAS WEARING MY TROUSERS).

i remained off work and bed bound for 5 weeks. and the bruising was still visible FOUR MONTHS later.

the moral? don't let the buggers get you down. and if they do... get up before they all fall on you!
( Mortal Wombatteries not included - Awesome Awesome Awesome, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 12:52, Reply)

Back in't day...
when I lived near a very chav-tastic town me and my friends would frequent an extremely dodgy nightclub (simply because we could get in). Inevitably we would get absolutely plastered, and on one such occasion the DJ announced a special guest appearing on stage, it was Clock, the male/female dance duo from the mid-nineties. They performed some of their material and as they left the stage they were led past our tables by two large security guards. Something (well, beer)possessed me to comment on their performance so as the male half of Clock walked past me I pointed at him and said in a very high pitched sarcastic voice "You're good then!" (or was it 'your good then'?) he didn't take kindly to this and while attempting to attack me in some horribly violent way he was rapidly pushed away by the female clock and the two guards.

Surprisingly I didn't get thrown out and was able to enjoy the rest of my evening.

Funnily enough on another occasion at a completely different nightclub they appeared again, much to the amusment of my friends who wanted me to do the same, sadly the opportunity did not arise. Later in the evening my mate had 2 pints thrown over him at the same time by 2 of his ex girlfriends, one of which had persuaded the other that he was evil.
(Mr_Bobbins, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 12:47, Reply)

Aged 7
I was at the 40th Birthday party of a family friend near where I lived. I did what any inquisitive child would do; try a bit of all the drinks on the table. Bit of red wine, bit of lager, cider, white wine...

The best bit of this all was that though the wine was in easy-pour boxes, the cider and lager were in 2 litre bottles, and I wasn't able to undo the lids, so some of the adults were coming across and pouring me small glasses of them.

It was all going so right until I had some orange juice, and tried a prawn for the first time.

After that, went to the loo, and realised that the entire world was spinning. Using the wall for help, I edged my way round to the front garden, and slumped on the floor where all the other kids were playing. One of my friends came over to chat to me, and I persuaded him to give me a piggyback round to where my parents were, which he duly did.

I sat down next to Mum, looking rather worse for wear. She asked me "if I was OK?" I just grined broadly, fell backwards into a rose bush, threw up, and started laughing incontrollably.

Most of the party-goers stood and laughed, watching me being carried back up the road by mum and an aunt, my feet simply dragging behind me.

The worse part of this all? Apparently they served Neopolitan Ice cream to the kids once I'd been taken home and put to bed. I was gutted.

I blame Pure Orange Juice and Prawn poisoning, naturally.
(Glis, Fri 19 Mar 2004, 12:44, Reply)