by heavycola on Tue Mar 18, 2008 9:16 am
Meggy those are brilliant, as is Brooksieb's pathos.
DM you should know better than to endorse consequence-free theft on a forum that children could browse. I only hope you returned the pork pie.
A really quite tame story from HC:
Once me and my girlfriend went looking for the worst nightclub in Scotland. We figured this was probably in Inverness, which for anyone not familiar with scotland is the last 'civilised' outpost in the north.
So we drove up and parked in a supermarket car park. Inverness was empty, even for Inverness. But we found an open nightclub.
It wasn't too bad inside - just empty. The only other people in there were a pair of disreputable looking coves who looked so much like drug dealers we thought we could at least enliven our evening chemically. But they weren't dealers, they were just a couple of shambling local mongoloids. One of them followed me into the toilets, and through his cracked brown teeth, cross eyed stare and fat-tongued assault on the English language, I began to understand he fancied my girlfriend.
Well, what would you do? I did the only manly thing I could, and told him she was a lesbian. This lit up ol' shitferbrain's dial, however, and he went back outside and started trying to dance with her. This was actually hilarious. Imagine Columbo having an epileptic fit, only in slowmo.
Anyway we made our excuses and left. And while wandering the streets of inverness at 3am, gutted that our mission had been thwarted, we heard loud music coming from an upstairs window. Purple light and Underworld were pouring from a wide-open casement over a shop. Bingo! we thought. Party! So we found a likely front door and ran upstairs, only to find an open front door and an empty flat.
In we skipped. After a moment of consideration and paranoia we decided to grasp this wonderful opportunity. We raided the fridge for beer and began to DJ, rifling through the occupant's reallly rather shite CD collection and cranking up the volume. By the time we heard the police sirens outside, we were dancing around the living room to whitney houston with glasses of vodka and orange juice in our hands.
When the room filled with flashing blue lights from outside., we dumped our drinks and ran for the door. On our way down the stairs we passed two policeman, followed by a bemused looking man who was obviously the flat's missing owner.
'This noise anything to do wi' you?' asked one copper.
We shook our heads, shrugged and carried on down the stairs. The look on the face of the man whose flat we had been using was absolutely priceless - a mix of anger, dawning fear and confusion.
It turns out we were looking in the wrong place all along: according to my friend Jamie, the worst club in Soctland is called Nosebleed, and it's in Dunfermline.
