"What I really like about you".
On my way to Edinburgh to visit my brother this weekend, I was texting my girlfriend, and things took the usual lovey-dovey route of her saying "What I like about you is..."
Ordinarily, this would be fine, and I would take it all in my stride. However, I couldn't help but laugh at one point she mentioned.
"I like that even when ur incredibly drunk u dont get violent 4 no reason." [sic]
My inital reaction was "Roffle.", which may sound okay, but I was sitting on a bus, on my way to Edinburgh, and I was the only passenger making any sound at the time. The reason for my laughter, dear reader, shall become apparent very soon.
Two weeks ago, or less or more, I was invited as a plus-one to a party. Obviously, copious amounts of alcohol were consumed not only by myself, but also by everyone else there.
No, I don't blame peer pressure. Moving on... At this party, I drank approximately 8 cans of Strongbow cider before being asked by my friend to accompany him to the local Asda to buy some more alcohol. Naturally, I obliged, seeing as I am eighteen, and he is not. So, off we trotted, slightly giddy from our previous drinks, but not nearing the tipsy or drunk stages. We bought three crates of tennents, and then raced back to the "venue" with our crates of lager still on the trolley that we had decided to snaffle, thus saving us actually using any energy in transporting the drinks.
Back at the party, Kenneth the underager and myself decided to open our tins, and drink and drink and drink. Now, 3 crates of 20 lagers = 60 lagers. We consumed between 20 and 30 of these between ourselves. And we ended up fuckdrunk. The stories relayed to me the following morning were rather humourous, as were the texts I had sent during my drunken stupor. But my favourite story had to be this:
At some point during the night, I had apparently gotten rather annoyed with my female friend, who was staggering, and falling, all over the place from when she arrived. Couple this with the fact that she had been off with me for the past week or so you know how us teenagers are... in the lead-up to this party. So, these factors led to me being somewhat of a Grumpy Bear. And by Grumpy Bear, I mean absolute cunt to everyone. But mainly her.
That's not the funny part. Here it comes:
After having gone outside for a breath of fresh air, and then making a snidey comment to her drunken self, I found myself lacking in beer, and having an abundance of rage within me. So, what did I do?
I opened a can of beer, spotted a male whom I donotlike and then proceeded to LAUNCH the can of Tennents at him. Now, I know what you're thinking - "I bet that hurt." No! It did NOT hurt him! For it landed right at his feet, before absolutely SOAKING him in warm lager!
And this, my friends, is exactly why I Roffled at the mention of me not getting violent when I am "incredibly drunk".
Tune in next week, for more posts. =]
Ordinarily, this would be fine, and I would take it all in my stride. However, I couldn't help but laugh at one point she mentioned.
"I like that even when ur incredibly drunk u dont get violent 4 no reason." [sic]
My inital reaction was "Roffle.", which may sound okay, but I was sitting on a bus, on my way to Edinburgh, and I was the only passenger making any sound at the time. The reason for my laughter, dear reader, shall become apparent very soon.
Two weeks ago, or less or more, I was invited as a plus-one to a party. Obviously, copious amounts of alcohol were consumed not only by myself, but also by everyone else there.
No, I don't blame peer pressure. Moving on... At this party, I drank approximately 8 cans of Strongbow cider before being asked by my friend to accompany him to the local Asda to buy some more alcohol. Naturally, I obliged, seeing as I am eighteen, and he is not. So, off we trotted, slightly giddy from our previous drinks, but not nearing the tipsy or drunk stages. We bought three crates of tennents, and then raced back to the "venue" with our crates of lager still on the trolley that we had decided to snaffle, thus saving us actually using any energy in transporting the drinks.
Back at the party, Kenneth the underager and myself decided to open our tins, and drink and drink and drink. Now, 3 crates of 20 lagers = 60 lagers. We consumed between 20 and 30 of these between ourselves. And we ended up fuckdrunk. The stories relayed to me the following morning were rather humourous, as were the texts I had sent during my drunken stupor. But my favourite story had to be this:
At some point during the night, I had apparently gotten rather annoyed with my female friend, who was staggering, and falling, all over the place from when she arrived. Couple this with the fact that she had been off with me for the past week or so you know how us teenagers are... in the lead-up to this party. So, these factors led to me being somewhat of a Grumpy Bear. And by Grumpy Bear, I mean absolute cunt to everyone. But mainly her.
That's not the funny part. Here it comes:
After having gone outside for a breath of fresh air, and then making a snidey comment to her drunken self, I found myself lacking in beer, and having an abundance of rage within me. So, what did I do?
I opened a can of beer, spotted a male whom I donotlike and then proceeded to LAUNCH the can of Tennents at him. Now, I know what you're thinking - "I bet that hurt." No! It did NOT hurt him! For it landed right at his feet, before absolutely SOAKING him in warm lager!
And this, my friends, is exactly why I Roffled at the mention of me not getting violent when I am "incredibly drunk".
Tune in next week, for more posts. =]
posted by SuperRoo at 00:38
1 Comments:
Get your bloody aim sorted out next time!
Yes, there WILL be a next time!
:)
x
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