Drunk mornings.

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Robert_Da_Hero, Apr 20, 2010.

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  1. Im still pissed now, and i know im gonna be in a shit state come the morning, why do we do it to ourselves? it??? nahh.

    to be continued tommorow afternoon.
  2. I wish now that I'd have saved some of the money that I pissed up against so many walls. Our mess in NI never closed and we would drink until the sun rose, shower, shave, breakfast and back out. We never let the side down, but we were bloody idiots really. :oops:
  3. I'd have retired now if I'd never spent owt on booze
  4. This morning I got up at 0530, had a shower and at dead on 6 the power went down. No aircon, no light (the rooms here don't have windows - I don't know why), no fan, no internet. So breakfast was had with the aid of rechargeable LED torches (cheap as chips over here) and we then faced the choices: a. Swelter in a baking, humid airless room. b. Sit outside under an umbrella in a baking, airless, humid 40 deg C. I chose the former, along with the QC manager, on the basis that the rooms would remain relatively cooler for a couple of hours due to the aircon being on all night. And then someone had the bright idea of partaking of a drop of after-breakfast red wine. We still have no power, lights etc..... but hey who gives a flying fu ck? Cheers!
  5. Mate it's at this point the fun really starts, in 12 minutes you'll be able to buy a few bottles of Rose and a bottle of brandy, mix both with a smidgen of lemonade and try and tan in 2 bottles before nine.

    Then defrost all the scran in your freezer before oven cooking the lot for 20 minutes and laying it out on plates all over the kitchen in a macarbe tribute to a lords banquet. Ring your Mum and start an argument about something you arent too pleased with about your childhood, finish by telling her she is dead to you, in a cold, almost like Sicilian voice.

    Grab a train to Dewsbury, stick £50 on a horse even though you have never lain a bet in your life, take a hop and skip to Wakefield, eat a chicken dinner served up by a paki with the personal hygiene of well, a paki, drink a couple of house doubles at the pub near the station and steal a plaque off the wall whilst sniggering to yourself then head home.

    Start your third bottle, splash on some scent and iron a shirt before going to the only pub in your village and making a complete and utter tool of yourself by buying a round for 'the whooooole fcuuuking pub' (currently occupied by 3 people, one being the landlord), go home, let the dogs out into the field, forget them, fall asleep with laptop open and allow other half to come home to no dogs, brandy flavoured coffee cups, wine tainted wee wee on the tiled floor and your personal life laid out on screen before her like a lit firework :D :D :D :D
  6. Once had a cracking piss up on Caye Chapel. Litre bottles of rum punch freshly made in the rickety, rough and ready hotel. Lobster and eggs for brunch, lobster and chips for lunch and lobster chow mein for tea - because unbelievably - the place had a chinese restaurant. Laid out under the moon at the end of the quay at midnight nissed as a pewt. Cor! :)
  7. 2 paracetamol pint of water, bed/ hide somewhere in the workplace and sleep.
  8. You are recounting every day lived by a BAOR cold war warrior.

    Or a Sat/ Sun morning of a TA hero when on exercise.
  9. Auld-Yin

    Auld-Yin LE Reviewer Book Reviewer Reviews Editor

    How fecking true; and I am paying for it now =|
  10. to be honest with you, forcing your way through the morning muster parade then sleeping til lunchtime in the penthouse of the 434 in a tank shed somewhere in Germany is the only proven cure
  11. I find the worst thing is finding out what you did the night before. On Sunday I awoke to a floor covered in sick and no memory about the happening the evening before. It turns out I drank some (a lot) of JD straight then went on a rampage throwing chairs around at a BBQ I'd been invited to on the patch before being escorted to my room at around 2000ish only to be found in the corridor around 2100 having a fight with the ironing board and unable to stand up.

    It turns out I'm a lightweight who can't handle his drink
  12. Surely the socks should be brown to match the shoes...bad drills :cry: