My mum the booze hounding bad example
Ahh now my mother (much like my father) has always tried her best to be a bad example, not for her the twin set and pearls.

Twas about 15 years ago and the family was on holiday in the wonderful (by which i mean poxy) spanish town of Salou and we were spending a night in a bar doing a sixties music quiz. Being of the requisite age group my parents were doing quite well and were frequently winning a "spot prize" of a shot of some unknown liquor. Being already somewhat lubricated my mother was failing to follow the golden rule (don't drink any clear spirit that has stuff floating in the bottle, a lizard in this instance if i recall).

Some hours later imagine the scene as my teenage sister and i are walking back to the apartment with my mother unsteadily running about like a loon, leaping on wall and over bollards giggling like a mong. In a final act of drunken lunacy on the stairs down to the apartment my mother is sliding down the stairs using the wall to support herself laughing like the drain of proverb and loudly shushing the frankly silent family before delivering the coup de grace by collapsing in the doorway and piddling herself. From this point on my mother lost some credibility when it came to dissapproving mine and my sisters teenage dabblings with alcohol.

Lovely woman, but a bugger when she's drunk
( Rhubarb_Triangle, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 20:11, 4 replies)

not salou, but malgrat
deader than a pool party at michael barrymore's house. running up the street, 4am, pissed as a fart, 2 kebab skewers on my head, pretending to be a bull.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 21:33, closed)

I was recently in Italy at a trade show
and there is a photograph of me on a tiny kiddies carousel horse, pissed as a parrot.

My colleague texted it to my MD with a short note of "DP sends his greetings and, as promised, is on his best behaviour. And not all pissed, honest."
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Fri 12 Feb 2010, 8:20, closed)

arf!
this is why my parents stopped taking me on holiday with them!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 12 Feb 2010, 16:44, closed)

Ah, good old Salou...
... I recall fondly my mother downing a fair few jugs of incredibly strong Sangria and staggering along the roadside on our way back to the hotel, complaining loudly that she couldn't get up the kerb because "the bugger keeps moving up and down".

She ended the night with her head down the toilet, alternatively giggling like a loon and shouting "huey" at the Great Porcelain God of the U-Bend
(Rotimer was micturating windward at, Sat 13 Feb 2010, 11:10, closed)