I was out with a drink with the missus, and she does like it when I leave the army behind and try to act normally.
So I was on my best, and we're getting slightly tipsy, and she starts telling me a story.
It was about a guy who gets chained naked to a lamp-post on his stag do and left there overnight. During the night, he gets ass-raped by some random, and is so traumatised that by the time his mates come to free him in the morning, he's in absolute shock with a bleeding rear. They had to cancel the wedding due that day, and he went into a home for mental treatment. Is still there to this day.

I was in stitches, I couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was a great joke.

It wasn't a joke, it was her friend.

I laughed even harder, tears streaming down my face.

Suffice, we had a bit of a row about that.

After serving 24 years I class myself as well and truly squaddiefied, its a hard stigma to throw off..thankfully
Got out a did some comms work abroad, working with a bunch of ex scaleys was great fun all the crack and no block inspections and tons of money to p$ss up the wall.
I then got a job back in the UK working in an office...well, I could tell this was going to be a difficult issue dealing with all the falseness that acompanies working in that environment.
My true self poured out one Monday morning as I sat there with the massed bands of the queens division practising inside my head.
MORNING...Oh I had such a wonderfull weekend, went hill walking in Dartmoor is was fabulous, what did you get up to Paul...I got focking wasted now p$ss off out my face, the look was mastercardly priceless !

Many many years ago when serving in Detmold, my Regiment had an exchange with the Yanks for a few days. We learn't to drive their Abrahams and then they came up to learn to drive Chieftain. Anyway, it's Friday afternoon and the whole Squadron retire to the Squadron Bar to teach our septics how to drink by playing silly games. There is much laughter, fun and back slapping. Later in the evening a mixture of both septics and Brits head to town for more beer swilling and maybe a bite to eat. Having visited the local Chinky and then being thrown out for filling the fish tanks with noodles, rice and anything we can get our hands on we end up in a bar in town quaffing more of Germany's finest ale. we start on the drinking games again, however, I needed to take a leak, upon my return I find that as I was away for so long I had to neck my beer in a oner. Down it starts to go, and then I get that feeling that I know I am going to chunder everywhere as soon as I put the glass down. It was a lovely summer evening and the front of the bar had concertina doors that opened up to the front with a typical French cafe style table and chairs set up outside. Carrying on drinking from my glass I make a quick exit to the doorway, finish my my beer, put the glass on the table and then throw up everywhere. As we had only eaten half an hour or so before, the pile of puke had the consistency of a huge cowpat, thick and lumpy and full of rice. I get abused to fcuk by my fellow Squadron members for being the first to chunder. My eyes all glazed over, I think what can I do to win back a bit of British pride. I thrust my hands into the said pile of steaming puke, lift it to my mouth and start to eat it, saying "hold on a minute lads I am not wasting DM30 on a Chinky that has been inside me for less than an hour." The bar quickly empties of Septics who proceed to throw up all over the bar owners chairs and tables. For some strange reason we were asked to leave the said establishment immediately before the Polizei are called! All in all a good night was had.

While working in a very large power station one of the younger blokes hung himself, I almost got fired for thinking out loud, HE'S NOT GETTING OVERTIME FOR HANGING ABOUT I asked, there was a deathly hush

When I worked in the Prison service we had a woman who had axed to death her partner. The manager said 'What's wrong with her pigging face she's a miserable cow'
I replied
'Dunno maybe she's got an Axe to grind'

I'm not sure if this is the right place for this or if it should be something that The Emperor suggested that I should do.

I had just been teaching some kids the joys of Tequila Killers when one of the lads couldn't take either snorting the salt up the nose or the pain of the lemon in the eye anymore. I'm not sure which but he threw up into his glass.
Without thinking and with a cry of "You've got to help a mate out" I picked it up and necked it. More people throwing up in horror, tarts screaming and poor old Bonzo thrown out and told of "Don't come back you filthy animal!"
Still, I had a free meal and a stack of ale and tequila so it was a bit of a result really

I have read this topic with much ammusement and feel that i should break the official secrets act with a couple of tales.

1) PISS UP. :D
Me and my mate who must remain anon needed a night out so i left the missus at home as it usually ends in tears due to bad behaviour. I was to crash at me bezzers place small homely and cosy, upon my arrival at the pre arranged RV is was mortified to find that my mates girlfriend announced she was coming out as well. No worries i thought my mate just looked at me with the 1000 yd stare. Needless to say i got wankered my mate left early as the girlfriend was in command so i had to make my way back having been told the door to the RV will be open. Upon my arrival and very concious of not waking anyone up i fell through the door onto the floor and me mate had to come and casevac me to the sofa. Everything is a blur until i was awoken by my mate saying ALICE what are you doing mate, this is when i woke up to find my self in his bedroom having a piss in his wardrobe. Luckily my mate is of good squaddie stock and understood and managed to pasify the girlfriend.

2) PISS UP II - THE COCK RING INCIDENT.
Again this was another night of mishaps and revelry my mate managed to pick up a a girl but me being me end leaving empty handed. We weer both invited back to this girls house who also invited her mate and mates boyfriend upon arrival alchohol started to flow when it transpired that the girl my mate picked up sells Anne Summers kit and equipment (Dildos Vibrating Cock rings you name it was there). A game of strip poker was suggested and of course i was happy to participate as i had a honest held belief that a orgy was on the cards. So to kick things off i took the vibrating cock ring up stairs with me as i was going for a whazz anyway. I could not help but try on the said device when i heard foootsteps coming up the stairs. so in my full glory i stood at the top of the stairs with a boner and the said device attached, thinking it was my mate i said *=$% what do you think the girls will say. Infact it was not my mate it was the girl he picked in the club earlier. Needless to say we both spent the rest of the night walking around a very popular city until we got our bearings and headed for home.

With the Company xmas party on Sat i am sure after a few bevvies these two incidents will be talked about in great detail and vulgarity.

My mate wants me to be his best man in April 09 different girlfriend of course. To that end i need to work out a speech that is tasteful lol but the stag do has yet to be planned.

Many moons ago when i was married to Mrs Blackrat (the 1st), we were invited to a wedding of a friend of hers in Hampshire somewhere. I didn't like her friend or her family much and as i hadn't been out of the green for long, was advised to be on my best behaviour. Mrs Blackrat, ever efficeint, had booked us into the posh hotel where the wedding reception was being held.

The churchy bit went well and on arrival at the hotel, i went to the bar to get some bevvies in. While waiting, i got talking to a bloke who, it turned out, was an ex matelot. Mrs Blackrat could see what was potentially on the cards here and again, a stern warning was issued. We sat down for the eaty bit and the pants speeches and to keep myself sane, i imbibed heavily from the wine on offer. Speeches done, we all went to the bar to prepare for the onslaught of 60's tunes, Cliff Richard singing "Congratulations", and the obligatory Abba stuff. I met up again with the Matelot and his misses and the Blackrats and the Matelots had a great time quaffing much booze and strutting around the dance floor like Mick Jagger on an ice rink.

After being shown by the Matelot how to row correctly to "Oops upside your head" i declared that we should hit the shorts. The matelot decided that we should partake of some Pussers rum. This was a first for yours truly and after my second dram, my head was spinning like a gyroscope on a teacup ride in Butlins. I informed Mrs Blackrat that i was popping out to take the air and i just made it. I ran to the side of a statue and proceeded to projectile vomit like a firemans hose up the front of said statue. Feeling better, i re entered the venue and continued to boogie and had a couple more drinks. At the end of the night, i bade a fond farewell to the Matelot and Mrs Matelot and headed off to my billet with Mrs Blackrat, happy that i hadn't made an arrse of myself. Having stripped off and got into bed, i said goodnight to the better half and promptly fell asleep.

The next morning, i awoke feeling like utter cack. Mrs Blackrat woke up and on looking at me, burst out laughing. Not usually paranoid, i ran to the bathroom to check that she hadn't written "Cnut" on my head while i was sleeping. Establishing that she hadn't i asked her what was so funny. "You, you c0ck!" said she. "Why?" i replied. "I was on my best behaviour last night, bar the vomming incident but no-one saw that". I had no idea what the fcuk she was on about. Mrs Blackrat infromed me of what had transpired.

It turns out that as soon as my head hit the pillow, i was snoring. Ten minutes later, i awoke declaring loudly that i needed to p1ss like a racehorse. I got out of bed, completely butt naked, left the room and headed out into the corridor. After about ten paces, i stopped and urinated there and then, all up the wall next to a fire hose. I then walked to a completely different door and started banging on it, demanding entry. The door was opened by no lesser person than the bride of the mother who was shocked to see the apparition standing before her. After wanting to know who the fcuk she was and what was she doing in my house, i was called to the right room by Mrs Blackrat whereapon i crashed. Most of the corridor had heard or seen what had happened.

Needless to say breakfast was interesting and the honour of the Army was upheld.

Immediately post Mumbai Hotel attack.

Walk into staff room and tell crowd have you seen the latest headlines in the local paper, Indian centric rag.

'Mumbai Hotels murder mystery weekend goes awry'

I had just received it via text and thought it too good to not share.

Tumbleweed and shuffling was all I got.

A few years back myself and one of my 'bezzie oppos' from basic where re-united for a course at HMS Collingwood (both matelots I'm afraid!). Having not seen Jack (that really is his name) for quite some time, as he had gone off to be a sun dodging submariner, we decided that a piss up was definitely on the cards. We started at a Wetherspoons in Fareham and before too much ale was consumed, we found ourselves talking to a couple of fairly attractive student types. Now Jack has a strong Jockanese accent and the girls were finding this very sweet and sexy, before long we had managed to invite ourselves to a party that they were having the following evening. We promised to meet them at their place the next day and Jack and I proceeded on a fairly un-eventful sesh, a few pints, watch the footy, kebab etc.

The next evening we donned our best pulling shirts, applied the Joop in a liberal manner and headed over to the girl's place to seal the deal. On arrival we were greeted by a couple of suspicious looking student lads, long hair, ripped jeans, mummy and daddy were paying their way, you know the sort. These two lads could clearly see that we were a threat and were probably planning to trap off with our birds.

Anyway the party was fairly tame with a sink full of cheap lager and a cd player knocking out some obscure crap that these lads had put on. Not the huge fuckfest we had been expecting by any means. After an hour or two of listening to the girls rabbiting on about Big Brother or something, Jack decided it was time to liven up the proceedings somewhat.

He went upstairs for a few minutes while I entertained the girls with a couple of my best salty sea dits. A few minutes passed and Jack re-appeared wearing one of the girl's underwear over his clothes and with the biggest purple dildo I have ever seen sticking out of his flies. Now this thing wasn't your run of the mill, rocket shaped, vibrator. No this monster had flashing lights and was wobbling around, violently, like some sort of serpent. It obviously had some serious motors inside and it sounded like a hedge strimmer.
The girl who it belonged to went bright red and burst into tears while one of the student lads, like a knight in shining armour, rose up to defend his maiden's honour. After a stiff telling off and threats of violence from the youth, Jack could take no more of this jumped up little pr1ck and sparked him clean out. We decided it was probably time to leave and we made our excuses and left with Jack still wearing the underwear and holding his prize aloft like a sporting champion.

From time to time we would see the same girls around town, they never wanted to chat for some reason.