I used to work in Yeoman House in Penge, and one evening a bunch of us went to the pub...

...The Bull & Bush in Hampstead. During the evening I was counting my drinks, but got a bit confused after 12 scotches.

And I was the driver! I remember having great difficulty manoeuvring out of my parking place, but amazingly, we all got home safely. The following morning, my workmates told me they had never been so frightened.

To this day I've never driven with anything more than one pint inside me.

This was before mobile phones were invented and no-body carried their Kodak box Brownie around with them on a night out in the City.

A stairway to Heaven and a Highway to Hell give some indication of expected traffic numbers

Really really bad stuff at office Christmas parties.
And weddings of friends and relatives.

1992 I was Best Man for a male friend who was marrying a valley-girl from Wales. On a pre-wedding pub crawl, it was 69p a pint in the local pubs, and it was impossible not to get rat-@r5ed.

I was woken by the bride-to-be in the early hours, as I had fallen asleep (naked) on the happy couples sofa.

Thankfully, i left the girl well alone as she led me to my bed.

Edited by Forest Hillbilly (28 Oct 2020 7.48pm)

I disengage, I turn the page.

(Long story follows) One of the stupidest things I’ve done;

Stag do (inevitably) in Bratislava. We went to a strip joint that was also a decent bar. Filled with blokes and hot Eastern European strippers. They were doing some dancing up on stage then tempting you ‘out back’. After a while the podium girls stopped for a bit.

I got chatting to one and she dared me to go and dance while they were having a break. I duly did and surprisingly didn’t get a shoeing from any of the doormen. Me on stage in front of 300 pissed blokes.

Her (female) stripper mate came back onstage and started taking my clothes off. I thought it wasn’t too bad a deal and I was feeling pretty confident (/pissed). She stripped me down to my boxers and I carried on dancing. I figured she was expecting me to run off at some stage but here I was. I thought she’d probably chicken out before stripping me off fully but I was wrong.

She pulled down my boxers and I was still feeling pretty chilled so I just carried on dancing with my cock out. Again, still no shoeing or anyone chucking a bottle which would’ve been fair enough really.

I finally got most of my clothes back on. Some of the other lads had nicked the rest. I had a further chat to the 2 strippers. What we talked about is anyone’s guess.

Then I got more drunk and ended up pulling a local girl - result. The group had fragmented by this stage and I was one of the last standing so me and her left to find somewhere to shag. Went to the cashpoint for taxi money and she started demanding $$$. Turned out she was a pro. Not that surprising in hindsight. I was having non of that so decided to walk to our digs which took me about 3 hours. Arrived in town for breakfast pint and (inevitable) karting. Very slow karting.

Vive le Roy!

I now view you in a completely different light

"It feels much better than it ever did, much more sensitive." John Wayne Bobbit

Came home from a night of fairly heavy drinking and put a slice of bread in the toaster. When ready I buttered it and spread some Marmite over it.At this point I had to quickly exit for a pee. On return I forgot that I had already given the toast a coating of Marmite, and didn't notice the black gloss on the toast, and proceeded to spread strawberry jam over it. A highly unpleasant combination and it took a while for the penny to drop as to why the jam tasted so salty. I can report that it is a combination of savoury and sweet that is totally incompatible.