what is your worst drinking incident?

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Heywood_Jablowme, Oct 9, 2005.

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  1. i was posted to the Queens Regt as a new crafty a while back and had missed the flight the day before due to crap admin. I arrived in Gutersloh and caught the bus to Minden, was dropped off at the front gates and left to it.
    The guardroom got a rep from the LAD,he came and grabbed me and I dropped my kit off before being told it was 5-a-side in the gym before drinks in the LAD bar,(sadly a thing of the past in most LAD's now). I played and got to know one or two lads, then it was back to the accommodation to get changed then sesh on. I was 19 and thought I could handle myself in the bar......well....
    There was a screws mess meeting that night so it was mainly crafties in the bar and the lads said that I had to keep up with them, what they were doing was taking it in turns to race me for bottles of Grolsch, the big german ones, and after 4 I was feeling slightly worse for wear.
    One of the lads bought me a half pint of Jagermeister and I tasted it and thought that it was like Benilyn and downed it straight away. They got me another and I downed that too.
    Things begin to get hazy here on in, but here goes.
    The screws mess meeting had finished now and i'm getting loud. One of the lads pats me on the shoulder and says
    "what do you think of him?"(a lad in a suit at the end of the bar)
    "go and tell him what you think of him"
    I wandered over to him and told him that he was a big eared freak with a shit suit on.

    The barman had been signalled by now to get me to bad asap as I was upsetting people.

    The lad who i had been nominated to share a room with grabs me and frog marches me outside to take me back to the room.(in an arm lock). i wrestled my way out from him, bit him on the arm, called him a 'Russian Spy(?)' and I was now running loose around the camp screaming that everyone had it in for me.

    eventually a big lad grabbed me and put me to bed.

    i wouldn't stay there so they dragged me to the guardroom for my safety, i had carpet burns on my forehead. when i got to the guardroom i swung for the duty officer, the biggest RP in the world a lancejack called Daz grabbed me and frogmarched me around the back of the guardroom, and thrust me up against a wall, shoved a fire extinguisher up my nostril and let rip. I very quickly came round to his way of thinking.

    the next morning i awoke in a totally alien environment, nothing like I'd awoken anywhere before. A cell. I moved one inch, and that was enough to tell me that I would get a bill for this mattress. I had let go from everywhere and was a mess. I got up to turn the light on in the cell, pressed the switch,only for a loud buzz to go off. the cell door hatch flung open and the RP says
    "what the fuck do you want?"
    "er....i'm sorry, i don't know where i am.."
    the door flung open, i meekishly crept out of the cell in my full underwear to grab my clothes, which were soaking, and got dressed.
    "i can't find my wallet"
    "it's here in the safe" he handed it to me
    "there's 700DM missing from it"
    "no there isn't" he said, looking at me to suggest my night in nick had just cost me 700DM, the thieving twat
    I left the guardroom, with a rep from the LAD and went to bed for the next 36 hrs, interupted with people opening the room door, pointing at me, laughing then leaving.
    Monday morning parade, everyone's fell in and i'm dreading it, totally alone in a world of pain.
    Inspection goes ahead, i'm picked up for not having a stable belt,fair one.
    Before fall out is given, the tiff says to me that the ASM wants to see me straight away.
    We're fell out, and this guy wanders over to me, a fullscrew.
    "Oi you, I want a word"
    "get your fucking feet together"
    oh shit i thinking, what is occuring here?
    "you ever embarress me in front of my wife and the LAD again and i will ruin you" (or words to that effect)
    I was told afterwards that the guy with a shit suit on was in fact a psycho and i had gotten off lightly.

    I went in to see the ASM and he told me that I had had quite an adventurous weekend by all accounts. I made my apologies, he gave me 5 extras for missing the flight and told me to get out of his sight.Nice one!!

    I was ridiculed until the regiment disbanded, but then again, nights like these only happen perhaps once in a blue moon.
    The next time I drank like that it was endex on Saltau and I woke up in Hohne Med Centre with concussion.

    feckin booze......

    anyone else?
  2. I think the white sticky residue in the morning would have been a clue as to what happened
  3. The morale of the story is REME cant drink!!!
  4. I'm not afraid to admit that I can't drink. it was the Reccy Mechs reunion in the mess this W/E and if you made your thoughts known there I'm sure you might have been educated.
  5. cnut! I would challenge ya but I'm older and wiser than I used to be and I have a hangover!!

    I was in the Workshop bar the night before going on Ex Snowqueen, a 5am start if I remember rightly. Being young and stupid I was easily conned into drinking a bottle of scotch, lord knows how many times I fell off me bar stool or how many times I rang the bell (All me spends gone!) but I ended up getting back to the block at about 3am. Don't remember anything except I woke in the shower getting shouted at! Anyway I got compes-mentis enough to realise I had to finish packing, all the stuff was layed out so no problem, stuffed it in the case then promptly threw up in it and shut the lid. I think I smelt of puke for the whole fcuking week!
  6. I am lucky in that I tend to get gently toasted rather than drunk. Furthermore, alcohol has that pleasant, cheery, happy effect on me as opposed to that leery, smash-stuff-up effect that bedvils many others. Perhaps this is why I'm a bit of a lush. As a result my booze-fuelled nightmares are relatively few and far between.

    Anyway, I got rather drunk at a party at a fire station when I was about eighteen. I was drinking the teenage idiots poison of choice for the mid-80's, vodka (no alcopops then!). Anyway, I was having a very nice time but drunkenly decided to try to walk along the top of a cast-iron stairwell at the top of (ironically) a fire escape. It collapsed under my bulk and I toppled about fifteen feet into a skip (which luckily was full of stuntman-stylee cardboard boxes and other soft debris).

    I got up, probably concussed, and my booze homing beacon went off, so I jogged home (about four miles) and went to bed. I was sick all night, but never actually woke up and me old ma (bless 'er, guv'nor) sat up and made sure I didn't croak by choking.

    I was pretty ashamed of myself. I have never ever been sick through boozing again since, and seldom drink spirits apart from the odd apres-dinner cognac or perhaps the occasional pre-dinner G&T. Actually, that's a bit of a lie as I'll drink just about anything you can get into a glass, but you get my drift.

    Once you learn to handle your drink it's an extremely pleasant pastime. What I genuinely don't understand are people who clearly don't get on with the demon drink yet perpetually get pi$$ed all the time and make cnuts of themselves. They'd be much happier (and richer) if they didn't bother and just stuck to the odd bevvy.

    Cheers! I'm off to have a couple of glasses of vino with lunch.

  7. Or there was this time when I got up in the morning, very hung over and whilst walking to the toilet (a long way in our block) I had to dodge a pile of puke, what dirty cnut did that? I thought, got to the bog to find another pile of puke of the same colour and consistency with my dressing gown next to it. Ahh it will have been me then!

    Oh before anyone says it, I can drink I just can't keep it down!
  8. Right ,deep breath

    Way back in the day, the one where we still had steel helmets and real guns, I was posted with 4 lads off my trade course to a little place in Northumberland called RAF Boulmer. Sadly on our first day there we found out that we were detached to a little place called Albemarle barracks, such a small place was this that there was no room for us in the accom so we had to live out on rates and lodging allowance for a while. I know, life sucks doesn't it :p. Anyway, it was a quiet geordie pub and one of the things we used to do was go out with the ladies darts team, like I said quiet pub. We used to work shifts and one night at the start of my 4 days off we got hammered as usual, we were living out of the pub then in a little holiday cottage and the day after we were due to hand it back to the landlord in pristine condition. Anyhow, I got monged in another pub in the next village, really really monged, drinking whisky and larger and the contents of flower vases like there was no tomorrow. At around closing time we returned to "our" pub and I thought I'd get the drinks in, although I thought I was in full control of my body I seemed to have trouble standing 'cos I started at one end of the bar and ended up at the other. I must have been bad, the barman told me to get lost. Someone helped me home, it might have been God or one of the darts team or I may have caught the beer scooter but I got home.

    But I didn't want to go home, so I soon found myself slurring and monging at the bar again.

    Again I escorted home, this time locked in for my own safety and this time some fucker hid my trainers.
    So I climbed out of the window, minus the shoes and went back to the pub, this time it was snowing.

    Finally someone got me back to the cottage and I went to sleep/ passed out in bed.

    I awoke in a pool of vomit, still pissed, to the sight of my also pissed housemate standing above me
    "polar69" he slurred ( he was jockenese ) , "you've been sick you mingy fuck ,tell you what kip in my bed and I'll kip on the sofa"

    So I did

    Five o clock in the morning I once again awoke in a pool of vom, my head was banging, but it wasn't my head it was the front door.
    Crawling to the door I opened it and a young dpm clad crab came in, sideways ( they always do that )

    I hated call outs

  9. W*nker, you and ladyboys like you bring reme into disrepute. C*nt.
  10. Into disrapute? You Sir, should at least have the decency to use the shift button when writing the name of our beloved Corp, it's REME, numbnuts!

    Polar69, pray continue!
  11. Erm okay, where was I

    I was pissed and in a pool of vom and there was a twat at the door, sorry, knock at the door :p

    for some reason the powers that be had decided to recall the troops for a bit of pre christmas tomfoolery, the night shift had got the call and one of the lads had been dispatched to get the lads together. This was of course before the days of mobiles etc etc, how i miss those days. Anyway for some reason he decided that I should be dragged in, so, picking chunks of carrot and sweetcorn from my hair I pulled on my kit and helmet and off we went. I may have spent most of the journey hanging out of the back door of the rover being sick, hard to tell.

    At that time we were still occupying two portacabins and by the time we got there it was quite cozy and steamy and smelly. Someone noticed I was slightly drunk ( must have been the way I was propped up in the corner ) and sent me and my mucker out to "patrol" the area, now the area of responsiblity for us was only the perimeter of our radiation hazard markers but it was a chilly morning and the walk would do me good. ho ho .Some fool gave me a pickaxe handle to carry and I distinctly remember banging the other lad on the head with it a few times.

    I was beginning to feel the affects of my hangover, later, sitting in the crewroom, when someone came in with a massive pile of bacon butties. I don't remember having any. I do remember being on my knees throwing up, in full view of the boss and seniors who were in his office being briefed.

    Apparently he wanted to charge me and throw away the key until someone older and wiser pointed out that i really should have been left in bed that day :)

    Don't remember much else, apart from returning to the cottage and finding pools of sick everywhere, I seem to recall buying a bottle of disinfectant and washing the sheets in the bath, pushing the carrots etc down the plughole

    I'd like to say I never drank again , but , well it would be a lie wouldn't it
  12. F*ck the Corp
    Eat the Apple

  13. What does f uck the corps, eat the apple mean. sounds very american, means nowt to me.
  14. Worst drinking incident - easy - 9 years in the Signals
  15. 6.5 years in the Signals and I cannot remember bugger all!!! Thats drink for ya!!