Subject: bloke's night out
Date: Sat, 08 Jan 2000 18:38:56
Ey up shit-heads
As most of you from IRC know, I was out tonight at the Doctors Mess
Ball. This means lots of drunk nurses and doctors and shit. It'a always
a good night.
So after front-loading heavily, I got a lift out to the Royal Armouries and drank the wine reception dry. After that, I heard that the bar was doing a 2 for 1 offer on beer aas spirits so I ordered the biggest round of drinks I've seen in my life which cost me £25.
Bargain. So Im' prettty drunk and everyone is expecting me to do the sort of stuff I usually do. I'm a bad boy.
Anyway, we're pretty good friends with the DJ and he saysy they want volunteers to be hyp0notised... I tell him it's a wqhole bunch of shit but I'll go along with it. I'm actually sent off the stage by the hypnotist - he said I wasn't "getting it" - if that means running the intellectual equivalent of Windows 95 then I want no part of it. No matter how relaxed I get, there are certain parts of my brain that are core and belong to root. And no fucker fucks with them.
So after that we all dance like dick-heads.. at least I do... this bird that I met a few months ago is giving me the eye but I'm not sure if it's the "I was wrong last time - fuck me" eye or the "if you come near me again I will call the police" eye.
I decide to figure this out by danci8ng drunkenly to a Pogues song and graskping her round the waist... she doesn't kill me so I gues I'm ok. Trouble is tha6t by now it's 01:00 and I'm drunk as fuck. Me and Phil have already done the Beach Boys trick where I lie on the ground and Phil surfs on my back... and we're a whole lot drunker than that now. I decide to talk shit to people and do coke in the toilets... good move, as there's a party in the toilets.
So after much danci8ng like a lunatic, much drugs and much drink, we all head home in a taxi reserved for someone else... still... fuck 'em I say.
Cheers
A bloke
From: Trigger <trigger@drunkenbastards.org>
Subject: Re: My 82 year old dad
Date: Sun, 09 Jan 2000 17:54:46 GMT
You fucking people are *never* around when I call. I don't think, anyway. Strange thing was, the outgoing call log on the phone the next day had your number in it - and my *own*. What the fuck I was doing calling myself, I do not know. The fucker on the other end was making no sense, I'll tell ya that.
From: Jaz <ciderman@dircon.co.uk>
Newsgroups: alt.drunken.bastards
Subject: MEXICO!!!!!!
Ever been in Mexico?
Ever woke up just as the day was dawning and stagger out of your hotel
room with a blazing hangover?
The very early morning sun pricks your eyes with tiny needles?
You wander down to the beach and gaze out to sea but retreat as the sun
roasts you?
You wander around the hotel and strangely back to the bar.
The hole in the floor bar is shut, in fact nothing is there.
Nobody is here, the swimming pool is empty.
Your wander out of the hotel groups and everything and everyone is shut
and gone.
A quick stroll down the 5am pitted and derelict street avails nothing
under the already blistering heat.
You wander back with thoughts of how to get the first drink of the day.
Again you haunt the hotel grounds and walk down a gritty concrete alley.
A shape appears from nowhere, a shambling bearded monster!
He looms closer, moving with the elegance of a stuffed pig.
You hold you breath as you believe you stare death in the face....
"You want to go fishing Senior???"
What the fack??? You minds screams inside.
"You want to go fishing Senior!!!!?????"
Disbelief and a strange sense of fate washes over you.
"No thank you" you mumble as you push pass the grinning greasy gringo.
"Plenty good fish!!!! Cheap! Cheap!"
You pay no heed as you pinch yourself to make sure this is reality.
You stop by the closed restaurant to stare out to sea as a motorboat
with a banana speeds past crashing across the waves.
You turn and notice the mini Jacuzzi is filled with 18 Mexican children
all staring at you whilst sniggering.
Back to the bar you head and again into the twilight zone episode where
everyone has simply disappeared off the face of the world.
No wait! A moustached guy with a large hat is using a hose to clean the
pool side areas.
Multiple routes past the man are open, you choose one escape route well
out of his area of scope.
Wrong, the guy moves with sickening dexterity.
Water slashes over your sandals as he veers to intercept.
You jump!
He compensates! Steps back raises the hose.
He grins...
You grin...
You think "twat" in your head.
He thinks "bastard foreigner"
You head back to your room with a smile on your face.
Memories are made of things like this...
--
Jaz - A TRUE STORY......
Date: Sun, 16 Jan 2000 19:48:56 +0000
From: Vic Flange <vicflange@fleshmouth.co.uk>
Subject: Re: getting dark
Editor's Note: okay, this was a spam, ...but it was a funny spam
www.fleshmouth.co.uk
For full and uncensored versions of the latest news stories.
Whether rapist Tyson wins or loses his fight is not really all that important. There can't be that many people who would care if he ended up a cabbage or in a long-term coma. Let's face it, he deserves it, and the world would be a better place if he was confined to sitting on a comode for the rest of his days.
The news that child killer Myra Hindley has a brain disorder will come as no surprise to many. Perhaps the doctors should consider taking her onto the moors, putting a black bag over her head and stoving her skull in with the back of a shovel.
News has broken that China has been hit by a velly big earthquake. Apparently all the bicycles fell over. I say that's what you get for following a communist regime. It's all well and good running around with red flags and wearing cardboard suits, but you must expect nature to hit out at you once in a while. Let's face it - even mother nature hates those commie scum.
A ten year old terrier has become a national hero in Thailand. It's just the kind of thing we expect in a country filled with heroin-crazed sexual deviants and transexuals.
The Boy Scouts Association of America is seeking legal guidance as to whether it can ban homosexuals from becomming leaders. It's a well known fact that once middle-aged men catch homosexuality, they can't control themselves and will go to any lengths to rape young boys.
Plus, reviews of Elution, Urban Legend and The Boob.
www.fleshmouth.co.uk
It's just like internal bleeding, only better.
Date: Thu, 20 Jan 2000 21:15:59 +0000
From: jaZZmanian Devil <jazzmanian@myremarq.com>
Subject: Re: A Message to that Fuggin Bistard Jiz.
Editor's Note: About Jaz being kicked off his server
Yes, but I still say thy would have let all that slide. The really reason that they dropped you was that scheme to download actual cider from the brewery and have it come out of the printer port for free. That was a step too far and hogged too much bandwidth.
jaZZ md
From: bloke <blokeNOblSPAM@fuckyou.co.uk.invalid>
Subject: Re: How to find a troll (was Re: Alcoholics Wanted!!!)
Date: Fri, 21 Jan 2000 13:11:49
(Whiskey Mike) wrote:
>Jaz (ciderman@dircon.co.uk) wrote:
>: Who has met you here?
>Mark Mathu, Fetus, DemonJohn.
You total bastard!
Not a single mention of the glorious night we spent together in the Motel 6, Boise.
Of course back then I was a lot younger.
Like 4 years old.
My Psychiatrist said I should go to the police - then he came in my mouth.
Cheers
bloke
Date: Mon, 24 Jan 2000 19:25:32 +0000
From: Whiskey Mike <whiskey@earth.execpc.com>
Subject: Re: How to find a troll (was Re: Alcoholics Wanted!!!)
Forget the foot. This one's for you.
_
|_|
| |
_ _|=|_
| | | | |\
|- - - -| |
\ |
\_______/
From: leibold <leibold@inf.uni-jena.degt;
Newsgroups: alt.drunken.bastards
Subject: Re: Bestow upon me the Bastard status
"W. Russell Nix" schrieb:
> Drunk but waiting on his Bastard status,
> Russell
Haha, an Aggie!
Listen, if you are not able to behave like a db, nobody can make you one - if you behave like one, no one can take that "status" from you.
Just be a db.
leibold
Date: Mon, 7 Feb 2000 00:01:08 +0000
From: Mark Mathu <mark@mathu.com>
Subject: Re: Drinking Songs
It's gotta be The Irish Rover's "Wasn't That a Party?" It made US top 40 in 1981 or 82 I think.
- - -
Could have been the whiskey, might have been the gin. Could have been three or four six-packs, I don't know, but look at the mess I'm in, My head is likea football, I think I'm gonna die, Tell me, me oh me oh my, Wasn't that aparty? . . . So you see, your honour, It was all in fun, That little bittytrack meet down on main street, Was just to see if the cops could run, Well,they run us in to see you, In an alcoholic haze, I can sure use those thirtydays to recover from the party.
From: whiskey@earth.execpc.com (Whiskey Mike)
Subject: Re: Lunar Eclipse My Ass
Date: 21 Jan 2000 09:57:03 -0600
Last night (~7:45pm, CST) I looked out my kitchen window and noticed a bright fockin' moon in a clear sky. A few more hours until that there eclipse thingy. So naturally I went to the bar. Had 7 beers and 9 shots, and noticed the time. DF was in the seat to the right, and BP to the left. My entorage(sp) was all about, so I stated I'd be right back, and the traditional lashings would break out if my seat was occupied when I got back. The conversation to DF went something like this:
Me: Hey Dave. I'll be back in a bit. I want to check out that moon thingy.
DF: Huh?
Me: Good point. Let's fucking drink.
And proceeded to watch the eclipse on tv.
-wm
From: Trigger <trigger@drunkenbastards.org>
Subject: Re: Wisconsin boozing less?!
Date: Thu, 13 Jan 2000 05:33:34 GMT
Mark Mathu wrote:
>I assume it's Remy Martic Cognac -- about 150 years old. They're selling
a
>bottle of that stuff for $999.99 at one of the local liquor stores by
me too...
>what's up with that? I think the decanter is supposed to be
worth something,
>too. If you ask me the only thing an empty bottle is good
for is a reminder that
>you need to go shopping.
999.99 or 3999.99 a bottle - let's face it - these are *not* people like us. What they are is a bunch of pretentious wank-masters trying to impressother pretentious wank-masters. I mean, give me a fuckin break. If anyonecan tell me that a bottle of $100 liquour does more for them than a $20bottle, well - kiss my white trash ass.
Liquor has one job and if it does it right, it'll bend you over the toilet for a nice price.
--
Trigger
Subject: The 'Deed' is done.
Date: 02/17/2000
Author: Leaf <Evildead@1jason.com>
O.K.
Briefly, Jaz and I are now .. err... yup.
The day started off as eventful as any DB day night start. We woke, turned to each
other and said "Go for it!" (Actually it was more like 'Get me a fucking cup of tea' and
Jaz brought up his cider bottle.) We had plenty of time before the noon deadline. It
was 10. We waited for Beavis to phone to say what pub we were going meet in
before the 'deed'. No call.
We get to Bradford and Jaz needed to pay in a cheque and draw some cash to pay
for the wedding. Whoops. We forgot the cheque and the card. Now 11.30. No time to
go back for them. No money to pay for the wedding. Pull into the car park of the
registry office with mobile in hand. No Beavis but coincided with just
*toofuckingmanyrelatives* arriving at the same fucking time. Smile politely. Talk
politely. Panic quite a bit. "Yes, all is going well but we seem to have lost the best
man." Beavis was then spotted and we suggest that relatives fuck off to the Office
while us three (Beavis in a good ADB t-shirt and slightly pissed with hand obligingly
on wallet) set off in search of a pub for a fortifier. None in the near vicinity so I
remind the glum fucks that Jaz thoughtfully remembered to bring a bottle of Pernod
located nicely in the car.
We leg it back to the car with 10 minutes til countdown. We were almost spotted
swilling Pernod in the car park by late arrival relatives. Escaped detection.
Blahed the blah that made us hitched with a cool video that documents the chilling
moments when Jaz and I glared at Beavis when it came to the point where the
Registrar asked if anyone knew of any reason why we could not be married, where
Jaz stumbled on the word 'impediment' and I forgot my own name and Jaz had to
prompt me.
Jaz, Beev and I darted away after the pics to get a bevvy in before the reception. We
scared the landlord of the pub we went into. Beev downed a triple voddy and a pint
in record time. He scared me by vowing to have one of my nieces giving him a blow
job while my other niece sat on his face by the end of the day. This, thankfully, was
not to be.
Truth be known, bless the DB cunt, after a momentous moment (my personal
second most best bit of the day) when Jaz suggested to Beev (as best nab) that he
make a speech, Beev responded very loudly, "FUCK OFF!" Not long after Beev was
caught on video removing his coat from the back of a chair and ..... disappearing.
Many guests were concerned for his welfare. Jaz and I mocked them. search party
was enlisted and his mobile phone was located. We secured it.
But it wasn't his mobile.
We stole a bartenders mobile.
Stupid fucking bartender should never leave a mobile on a table outside the men's
toilet when a Beev search was underway, I say.
Anyway, long story short, Beev was identified by his roommate as being passed out
after two bus rides home. Fine fucking best man he turned out to be!
Oh.. by the way.
We *did* get married.
Thanks Mellee and Wowbugger for the calls. Wish you were there .......
Badart... you're still a cunt.
--
Leaf
Subject: Re: SPD - a recollection of sorts
Date: Tue, 21 Mar 2000 06:42:21 GMT
From: DemonJohn <demonjd@hotmail.com>
We mostly played pool and talked a lot of BS. I got good and trashed drinking Guinness Stout and shots of Jameson.
After wm left, I waited a while for Mark M, but he never made it there. Then I took a taxi home to continue the party in relative safety. The driver, who was Jordanian, advised me never to speak the name of God while drunk. I invited him in for a drink, but he declined. Later, a buddy stopped over and we ended up killing a case of German beer. Not quite in keeping with the Irish theme, but WTF. I made up for it by getting drunk on Harp the next day.
Subject: Re: know your cider?
Date: 03/01/2000
Author: Whiskey Mike <whiskey@earth.execpc.com>
Tab through the rest of this post if I've told this story before. Closing night of the Crusty Carpet. Ahh, the Crusty Carpet. Nice illegal all-ages alcoholic bar in a friend's lower flat. They spent $300+ a week at DiscountLiquor to supply enough.
Everything was a buck. Everything. All the time. 24/7. So Tequila Tom had been heaering all these good things of the 'carpet from me. I finally decideto bring this drunk focking bastard to the last night of the Crusty Carpet'sexistence. "How can they afford to give shit away at a buck per anything?"- TT
We got there. He was still relatively sober at the time. He inquired what the fuck there was to drink. What did he like? Well, tequila, of course. Nasty ol' Cuervo Gold. Fills up a 10oz water glass. "Ok tom, that's a buck." He flipped. He practically chugged it. Followed with a few keystone lights (NASTY) and had a 12oz water glass of Jose. By this time, TT had histrue drunken form going on. Had one more 12oz glass of tokillya and he wasthrough. All within about an hour and a half. I was s*ber, but he started biting people's legs, so I had to get him out of there. Hop in my car. AskedTom where he lived. He pointed in some direction. Got closer. Asked where helived. Pointed a different direction. Drove around for 45 minutes. "TOM. Where the FUCK do you live?!" and pointed into an alley. I stopped the car. He got out. He started pissing on a building. Halfway through severe flooding of the alley by urination, he heaved on the same wall he waspissing on. I should have known better, but I made the mistake of letting him in my car. With the forceful impact of the vomit, the stream of piss caused a sort of ricochet effect. This made the puke get on his socks and shoes, and the piss all over his jacket. If that mental image isdisturbing, you're just lucky you didn't witness it firsthand. So then hegot back in my car. Where do you live? I don't know. Where do you live? I don't know. Ended up dropping him off near the same alley he descrated and told him I didn't have another hour and a half to figure out where the fuckhe lived. It was a very disturbing evening. I ended up walking back to theCrusty Carpet, and stayed there until there was no booze left. ('cept 2bottles of gin. ick) Fortunately, I've never forgotted where my residence is. Maybe it's time to drink more.
-wm
Subject: Re: alt.drunken.snobs?
Date: 03/03/2000
Author: Kalisto <kaleesto@drunkenbastards.orgasm>
some damn DB named clydesdale9@webtv.net (Clyde_S_ Dale) wrote in [372-38BEBA8A-27@storefull-106.iap.bryant.webtv.net]:
> Stopped in here 'cause it looked interesting. Found your homepage a
>year or so ago, applied for membershit status,
You mean you can just apply for membership here?????
Damn! Boy did I go about it wrong, I fucked the webmaster of the page! Sheesh!
--
Kal
All's well that ends well! :-)
Subject: DRINK!!!!
Date: 03/08/2000
Author: father_jack_hackett <father_jack_hackett@my-deja.com>
Quick Wit:
Fred was drinking at a bar and the bartender came over to tell him he had a telephone call. Fred had just bought another beer and he didn't want anyone to drink it. So, Fred wrote a little sign and left it by his beer that said:
"I spit in my beer."
When Fred returned to the his bar stool there was another note beside his beer:
"I spit in your beer too!"
DRINK DRINK DRINK BEER DRINK DRINK BEER DRINK!!!!!!!
FECK
ARSEBISCUITS
Father Jack Hackett
(he should have been pope)
Subject: Re: Pictures of Oz fixed
Date: 03/14/2000
Author: Keltic <keltic@SPAM.zip.com.au>
Editor's Note: About Beavis' recent visit to Oz
Pleasure having you here, just a pity I didn't get to buy you more drinks than I did.
BTW, did you do anything to my cats - they've been very clingy since you left.
From: Robin Pastorio-Newman <pastori@rci.rutgers.edu>
Subject: Re: cider chick
Date: Fri, 31 Mar 2000 11:44:12 -0400
Speaking of breakfast drinks, I demand restitution for thousands of wasted mornings when, but for some annoying legal situation with the FDA and naughty chemicals, I could've been drinking REDBULL AND STOLI for breakfast.
Someone owes every caffeine addicted DB in America. Fetus, whom do we sue?
Your Diva,
Clarence Darrow
From: Beavis <beavisNOSPAM@fuckyou.co.uk>
Subject: I make people sick
Date: Sat, 1 Apr 2000 07:38:16 +0100
You'll have to bear with me 'cos there are monkeys dancing in my head right now.
Last night I went out on the piss in Leeds and ended up in McDonalds at about 23:30. I was cramming burgers into my face as fast as I could when Ispotted a young bird and thought "let's have some fun here". Every time shelooked my way, I'd open my mouth to show a gob full of burger and wave. Sortof like Dan Ayckroyd does in Blues Brothers.
Anyway - I did this for a few minutes and the next thing I know, the colour's drained from her face and she runs outside to throw up.
I laughed myself stupid then went to a late bar.
Cheers
Beavis
From: leibold <leibold@drunkenbastards.org>
Subject: The Maxreuth Maiwanderung Massacre
Date: Tue, 02 May 2000 15:20:11 +0200
Alrtight, so here it comes:
I have to brief you on some traditions, before I start with the actual story. On May 1st, we always go on drinking tours. This usually involves some type of cart with beer on it and visits to several villages with pubs in the vicinity. I always go with a group from my favorite bar.
Monday was May 1st, so at 9:00 we took of. There were almost forty people coming along. My original plans were to desert the party before noon, because I still needed to go to Jena before Tuesday morning. Therefore I started off pretty quick, and after the second village/pub I had six beers already. For 11am that's quite a bit and I figured there was no sense in going home any more. Thus I stayed on tour. The next stop was a pub situated opposite a rather big and steep hill. After sitting in the sun for a while and drinking a few more beers, I came up with a great idea: I wanted to ride our cart down that hill. Everybody told me I was crazy, but to no avail. I took another beer, pulled the cart up the hill, and mounted my vehicle.
Soon I found out that it was very difficult to maneuver, because it was designed to be pulled, not ridden. Also I found out that it gained speed much faster than I had imagined. Now imagine the scene: A bunch of drunks sitting in front of the pub, watching me ride down the hill and cheering, me sitting in my cart holding my beer bottle up into the sky, singing.
Suddenly I lost control and my attempts to regain it resulted in wild swaying from one side of the road to the other. Of course, this did not last long, and soon the cart tipped over and I flew out, landed on the pavement, and rolled a bit further down. I am told it was quite a spectacular scene, and most people thought I must have broken all kinds of things - I had even lost hold of my bottle.
To everybody's amazement I simply got up, looked for the bottle, drank what little was left and gathered my other belongings. Then, to everybody's awe, I walked back to the cart, remounted it, and proceeded to ride down the rest of the hill; about two thirds remained.
Having learned how to operate the thing, I managed to avoid further accidents and rode past the pub. When I got back there, people started examining my body. There was not one bit the size of a hand left without bruises, scratches etc. The worst spots were my left elbow, which was completely torn up and covered with blood, and my left breast, on which I had landed - some little rock or the like had made a clear cut all the way through my nipple. This still burns like hell. Of course, I did not give a damn; luckily I did not even feel much pain at the time, because I was pretty well-anesthesized (in contrast to now).
In the next village I was greeted with applause by the volunteer fire department, who still remembered another memorable event from our tour two years ago, but that's an entirely different story. Enough for now.
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