split

#1
Been there several times and wanted to do exactly as you have described but never had the nerve to carry it through!

Classic!

Litotes
 
#2
dont forget night routine serve all meals cold straight out of the packet.
Also make sure that only half eat at a time and the rest stag on.
 
#3
I happen to quite like Compo and some of these 'menus' sound OK. Give the B@stards MRE's instead.
 
#4
ACAB said:
I happen to quite like Compo and some of these 'menus' sound OK. Give the B@stards MRE's instead.
and make the brews with the chemical ridden hot water
 

Auld-Yin

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#5
convoy_cock said:
I need a bit of help from my fellow arrsers.

About a month ago, we got invited to another fcuking dinner party. Now i'm as gregarious and outgoing as the next alky, but they're not my idea of fun. The food was great and the conversation was ok, but it's just not me. For one, there's never enough swearing and the anecdotes are generally a bit watered down for my liking. I always find myself just about to tell a story, before having an internal dialogue and squashing the tale because it won't pass the rigourous low-quality control standards in operation.

The problem is that the people we're dining with aren't my mates, hand chosen through years of booze vetting by the Chartered Institute of Bezzerers. They're playground pals that my wife has made. She gets matey with the lady while they're dropping the kids off, and before you know it, it's dinner round at theirs and best behaviour all round. Now I don't mind doing this annually, but she uttered the dreaded words "return the favour" as we were leaving.
C-C I have only selected the above part of your post for the reason that you don't seem to have, at any point,

asked the guy how he feels.

Did you try to move him towards the supply of bevvy,

did you try to move him out of the female circle of what is considered 'normal'.

How did you ensure adequate supplies of falling down water even though you are a guest?

In my mind you have failed in the first principle of being an Arrser

I leave it to you now to sort out this issue and invite these peeps to your table and then leave the distaff side to do and discuss what they want while you edumicate her hubby.

Now get on with it! :lol:
 

Auld-Yin

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#6
Harry_Webster said:
unbranded margerine half melted
If a suitable rate of ED pay was offered Im sure some of the site "Goppers" would be available to waiter on...........
Harry it is so nice of you to offer to wait on. It would make the goppers feel better if someone worse was there. :lol:
 
#7
BronzeWhaler said:
When the missus leaves the room to get each course ask their opinion on if your tummy is too hairy by pulling up your shirt and asking them to stroke said tummy.
Worked for me.
Did it Doug?? and what did Carie think?
 
#8
Vegetius said:
Result?

Gastric oblivion. The AB croutons would not let the vile, gut-churning goulash out of the system, which would only be compounded by the evil Devil's Bladderwater we know as screech. The other ingredients would only add to the "onmyfcukinggodi'mgoingtodie" sensation.

Your guests would be quaffing Gavoscon like it was going out of fashion before heading off to the vomitarium. They would not return.
:lol: :lol: :lol:

I like that, i'm going to steal it and pass it off as my own.
 
#9
just scratch ya scrotum in the direction of the most stuck up bitch in the room, that should work. Unless the stuck up bitch is the dirtiest, then ya f&cked...literally :D
 
#10
What if they brazen it through the meal or god forbid seem to be enjoying it?

Has anyone thought of after dinner games?

Freckles or soggy biscuit anyone :p
 

Auld-Yin

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#15
londonirish said:
Dinners partys, gawd save us. As a kid growing up in BAOR my poor parents became stuck in the same quagmire. My father told me, when I was too young to really understand, the following tale.

But I understand now....

A chap arrived at the unit, and invited his peers over to his quarter one night. Most of the men were of a certain type, in that they had seen action, many of them in WW2, and others in Korea, Aden, Borneo and the like. They were practical, affable and generally unassuming.

Their host, (for it was he) greeted them cordially and offered them some lovely German wine. Wine? they all thought. Most were beer men, and wine back then was seen as an affectation and somewhat effete. His wife was wearing a figure hugging catsuit, remember this was 35 years ago, and he was wearing a crushed velvet jacket with a frilly shirt, and the sound of the Carpenters or somebody, was playing in the background.

Canapes were handed around, and while I cant remember the actual menu, the food was "stuffed quails and larks tonges inaspic" type of fair.

After a stilted dinner, during which most of the guests were acutley embarrased, more so for him than for themselves, he rolled his brandy around his glass and was heard to say, with all the heights of sophistry he could muster, " we like to relax when we're at home" .

Revenge was arranged. One of the chaps hatched a plan. He in turn, together with his barbie doll, was invited to one of their houses. On entering, they were met with the assembled chaps and wives, sitting mostly on the floor, all of whom were wearing an assortment of old great coats, gardening trousers, thread bare swaters, shirts with holes in, unshaven, and generally unkempt.

They were sitting on the floor and eating pigs trotters, frikadellen, bratwursts and chips from the paper and drinking pils from the bottle.

The host of the evening, after belching said..."we like to relax when we're at home"

Touche, job done
Are you sure you were not wartching Abigail's Party while having a normal Friday afternoon 'wind-down' in the Company bar? :cry: