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Motherfucker. What is it about inpromptu beers? Are they stronger than planned ones and when the feck is someone going to invent a breathaliser for mobile phones that stops you dialling anything but energency numbers and pizza houses?

And what, in the name of christ and all his little mates, makes me think that all women love my company when I'm 16 sheets to the wind and extolling the artistic genius of Neil diamond? I am on leave today (well, actually it's supposed to start tomorrow but the boss is away on a 'meeting' in london, so...) but my home breathaliser told me i was too drunk to drive, so rather than knocking myself about the room in front of "Pump Friction" or "Charlies Anals", I thought I might as well come to work in civvies (there are few greater pleasures) and post shoite on arrse. How am I spelling so well? My home breathaliser kit is a peice of genius by the way, I basically lean my forehead on the mirror above my sink, breathe on it and shiff really quickly. If the reflectionb looks like an uzbek paedophile who's just smelled his own faeces, then I figure I need some quiet time before attempting anything more complicated than pulling fluff out of my belly button.

Some cultures use alcohol to enter an alternative reality and commune with their creator(s) about the meaning of life etc. Did anyone see that Tribes series on BBC 2? Best thing my TV licese has ever paid for - well it would have done if I had one, but I'm not frigging paying Pauline Quirk's wages on principle, the daft wale. Plus it would technically make me Ellie Crisell's employer and I don't want ethical complications when we finally meet and I convince her to 'hold' my mars bar for me. So what did the Almighty teach me last night?

Drnk Dialling Wrecks Lives.

So, I've got a nice handbag, a necklace and a knife block shaped like a man with knives stiocking out of him if anyone wants them.

When you sober up and re-read this thread you may find yourself chuckling a bit!

I have never seen a good written drunken ramble ......... until now.

And please don't come back telling me I could be your bezzer or how you love me like a brother, man.
You sir have obviously come a cropper of the phantom bad pint. Apparently the government but sarin in every 25th pint. The idea is to make even going for a cheeky quick one massively unpleasant the next morning.
The only cure is to eat a kebab the size of a Spartan road wheel with enough chill sauce to melt through a Essex chavs make up. Only that will restore the balance in side you gut.
RTFQ said:
Drnk Dialling Wrecks Lives.

So, I've got a nice handbag, a necklace and a knife block shaped like a man with knives stiocking out of him if anyone wants them.
*hands on hips, looking down at the wreck of a man formerly known as RTFQ*

"What did you do?" :wink:

Might you have partaken in the joys of 'minging ringing'?? :lol:
Escape-from-PPRuNe said:
Yep, got the woolly brain, epic shite, farts, hangover. It's that Sam Smith's Pure Brewed Lager. Can't they make it a bit less pure, put some chemicals in it or something?
Sam Smiths!

Drink of the Gods, and a snip at £1.60 a pint.

A gallon is enough though. :D

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