Knew a bloke named George...
Lovely chap he was, from Cork originally but wound up in Sydney for a while. So we're out drinking, George offeres to get the next round and wanders off... never to be seen again. After about half an hour someone comes running out of the loo screaming "Call an ambulance, someone's been mugged!" There's George, laying on the floor surrounded by blood, his front teeth missing, out cold. The ambos come and cart him off, everyone's distraught "Who would do such a thing? He's a lovely guy!! Some bastard must have king-hit him!" The next day, however George comes to in the hospital and reveals all...
"I was getting a bit leathered so thought I'd duck into the bogs for a tactical chunder. Just as I was leaning down closer to the bowl so nobody would hear, I slipped. Last thing I remember was going teeth first into the edge of the toilet bowl..."
( difficultchild, Mon 11 Jan 2010, 2:36, Reply)