That was Harry's sister, Harriet Potter. :pQuote:
Originally Posted by 2legged tackle
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That was Harry's sister, Harriet Potter. :pQuote:
Originally Posted by 2legged tackle
Years ago I got free tickets to the Oyster festival in Galway. As anyone who's been knows there is free Guiness at the event for a period of time. I preceeded to down as much as I could and when the freebies were coming to an end we decided to move on. The guy driving told me my door wasnt closed right and I leaned over to open and close the passenger door properly (Ive a paralysed left arm). As I leaned over and opened the door he made a U-turn. Next thing he felt a breeze and heard the door shut. He looked in the rear view mirror to see me standing up dusting myself down. I hopped back into the car and we said nothing for awhile not believing I had just fallen out of a moving car!!
Funny story there last night as I made my way home after a spot of revelry - I was cycling (taxis way too expensive!) just south of Ranelagh on the Clonskeagh Road and decided to have a quick look into one of those apartmentised houses where early-leaving friends live to see if they were still up. I pulled into the gravel drive-way, but all lights appeared to be off, so I began to circle around when I was startled to behold the excited emergence of a body from the shadows.
He was upon me so quickly I had no time to fret or pedal off at speed. All of a sudden, I had a blubbering 20 year old Corkman dramatically and despairingly wailing "moy friend, moy friend, left me; oy don't know where oy am." Ever the good citizen, I put a comforting arm around his shoulder, applied some brotherly pressure, and began to investigate the seemingly hopeless predicament. Gently, I questioned whether this typically silly Corkman knew where his friend lived - "no, just up for the night". Ok, do you have a phone to ring him til we find out where he lives - "no". Fair enough, I have a phone, do you have his number - "ya, he's a fuking ****** though". Right, well, I've a phone, do you know his number - "ya, he's a cnut though, I hate him".
So I ring the friend, who surprisingly given the late hour answered rather promptly, and got his address. Next hurdle was the mode of transport. Presuming he had no money, I offered (quite ironically for me) to pay for a taxi. But to my utter bemusement my distressed adolescent said that no, it was fine, he had money. So you mean you've been lying here on damp grass crying your heart out for yourself because you couldn't ask someone for the momentary use of their phone to ring the friend you're staying with tonight but have lost over the course of the night? I of course didn't say that, but have wondered it off and on for the past few hours.
Very strange altogether. Made the cycle home much shorter, mind. :)
One Halloween the local was having a fancy dress competition. so me and my best mate decided to go all out to win (1st place a hamper of beer and spirits 2nd prize 10 pints)
he dressed as a 6ft 8in perriot clown and me as Keith Flint .
well needless to say we finished first and second respectively and got down to some serious boozing with my ten pints polished off well before last orders and the hamper soon after. then came the raffle in which I won a signed Liverpool football. Now our route home from the boozer takes us across two football pitches (I think you can see where this going) well I'm sure some of the locals must have been quite amused on there way home to see Keith Flint and a 6ft 8in Perriot clown playing heads and volleys in the pitch dark at circa 2am
Good man, Kingdom Hoop. That's quite an individual posting style.Quote:
Originally Posted by kingdom hoop
Could I be so bold as to suggest you adopt the more embracing username of "Lord Randolph Marmaduke Kingdom Hoop the Third" as your posting style is fast developing into the prose style of an affable 18th century English Diarist!!!
Indeed. I find his contrasting of mimesis and diegesis to be quite striking.Quote:
Originally Posted by Wolfie
Well to be fair that poor Corkman created the style for me. I suppose them's the joys of the social diarist - the weird and wonderful subjects you can later subject to ridicule and social examination. Can't wait to get drunk again to see what I'll see. :) And report back of course.
Signature changed by the way Wolfie.
Jesus kingdom, i won't be going out drinking with you again :D
Last friday night, started drinking after an exam at about 3-ish, with a few gin and tonics (hindsight suggests pints would have been better) in the morrison on the quays... after that, went to yamamori with about ten others for some dinner about six... nice nosh... by this stage had spent about e100... then it's a bit blurry... apparently, i was drinking mojitos in the morgan in temple bar... then i have vague recollections about a taxi ride to the south side, in an attempt to leave a friend who was a little worse for wear (and not allowed back into the morgan for being too drunk) home... we got to dundrum/milltown area, and i asked him where he lived and he was like 'not going home'... so after a little arguing, somehow we ended up back in town outside the morgan... this is where things get interesting... now, i don't remember what time it was (prob about 130) but we were told by the bouncers it was closed and we weren't getting back in... so when they were talking to the other guy, i tried to sneak past... bad idea, turns out they fight dirty... as i was being hauled out, one of the bouncers gave me a 'friendly' knee in the boy bits... still bruised and a little sore five days later... but after that, we left and went to leggs, where the rest of the crowd from the morrison headed too... and then at three am in a taxi to a friends house in goatstown (about 20 of us went to goatstown)... i got home to the northside at 530 and did some drunken faceboking... and woke up the next morning to check my wallet to find the e120 that i started with the night before was gone, along with two credit card receipts... one for e60 in the morgan and one for e40 in leggs... and bruised ********...
good times.
a tad embarrasing but here goes.....:o
I used to work in a hotel!!one day i was on a split shift (9-3....8-finish) anyhow after work, ******ed tired i decided to have a few pints in the bar with a colleague! Well about 10 pints and 2 hours later i fell out the door and "home jones" were the taxis instructions (living at home at the time)...fell in, went to bed....well i was rudely awoken by my old lad...... apparantly I walked into the parents bedroom, up alonmgside the bed, steadied myself and began to hav a nice relaxed pi$$ on the covers! starting at the fathers feet working my way up about as far as his chest, shaking it off and calmly exiting back to my bed! Apparantly when i was asked what i was doing i repled "il get ur pint in a minute, just using the jacks in reception" the next morning hungover, and giggly i came down to the kitchen, apologised and said i was only "taking the ****" - didnt go down well!!:D a strange case of drink induced sleep walking ya mite agree!:o
LMFAO:DQuote:
Originally Posted by biscuit
POTM!
Well it's not like I want to go out drinking with you again either. :mad: :pQuote:
Originally Posted by Green Tribe
To be fair, I'd exempt fellow board members from humiliation (unless they want to do so themselves; which happily has happened recently). Indeed, I was obliged to hold my own horses this week after a certain member (who shall remain nameless, and timid too I'd imagine) got up to some awful shenanigans last weekend. :)
A fitting signature for any self respecting social diarist, Kingdom :DQuote:
Originally Posted by kingdom hoop
To your credit Sir, and I bid you good-day!!!! :D
Quality. Though remind me to forget about going on the lash with you if you are ever over in London;)Quote:
Originally Posted by biscuit
Fine then! :DQuote:
Originally Posted by kingdom hoop
So spill the beans who was boozing and misbehaving last weekend then! :eek: :D
I keep telling you, anything that happened after I blacked out didn't actually happen, not the getting thrown out of a knacker bar, not the puking, not the rape......I've said too much :pQuote:
Originally Posted by kingdom hoop
Seriously though I'd love to go back to that bar (if I had any idea where it was, even a rough location might do) and find out how I managed to get myself hopped out the door of what seemed like a complete and other shambo bar. From my scattered memory I seem to recall it was the type of place where people get shot and shoot up on a nightly basis, what offence could I have caused to get me barred in a place like that? :D
another one from last thursday... had another exam and after i finished it went to a karaoke bar on capel street... about 30 of us... few beers there and then onto Raynards... all civil at this time... few more beers... left there about two o'clock and went back to a friends house in sandyford... only tequila in his house by this stage... so it was tequila and coke... i remember standing on a sofa singing ''thriller'' in a really high pitched voice when it was starting to get bright out... and then leaving the house when it was properly bright out, despite it snowing... about 8am... with lots of traffic and cars on their way to work... sitting on the luas wearing a suit and stinking of drink on the way back into town... getting a taxi from the green home at about 9am... then sleeping for a few hours before going to work as a barman at six in the evening... thankfully cos i work in a pub no-one would notice the smell of booze
About 10 years ago, myself and a few mates decided to go drinking in Skerries, just to get out of the usual City Centre spots. One of the lads, who was mad enough without drink, was happy enough to be the "designated driver".
Returning home, having drunk a skin-full, I seriously needed to take a leak. We were driving on back-roads and it was pitch black as there were no street lights. I eventually had to demand the car stop to let me out to relieve my bloated bladder.
No sooner had I jumped out of the car, then the lads sped off, abandoning me there in the pitch black in mid urination. As I looked out onto a plouged field,all alone in the dark, waiting for the lads to come back, I saw a shadowy figure stood in the middle of the field, about 800 feet in, motionless. It was a scarecrow.
The thought struck me - wouldn't it be great crack altogether if we nicked it and brought it home. It was a hell of a scrap to uproot the bloody thing but I managed to wrestle the scarecrow to the ground and made my way back to the roadside - covered in muck.
When the lads returned to pick me up - I informed them that I was going nowhere without "Worzel". Both backseat windows were wound down and Worzel placed horizontally in the backseat with his head stuck out the window.
Having stopped off at a chipper, with Worzel in tow, all was going well. Disaster struck when we were about to head off and the cops spotted us. The cop asked my mate to wind down his window and said - "Lads, yis have 5 minutes to dispose of that or you're heading down the station". Poor ould Worzel had to be broken up and dumped in a bin as the filth looked on from a distance:mad:
I often think of a heart-broken farmer on the outskirts of Skerries, wondering what heartless swines had kidnapped his Scarecrow. He's put his "missing" picture on milk cartons and everything - but not a trace. :(
Another story. Not mine though. ;)
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7482551.stm
Imagine the fright he got when he woke up in a confused state with a hangover and suddenly realised he was drifting somewhere in the North Sea :DQuote:
Originally Posted by ifk101