Drunken Master 2
So some people have been suggesting that my evenings on 'the pop' involve things ranging from mad ninja skills, through lampposts and other immovable objects, to tangling with buses.
Well it turns out that they do. Here follows another email I sent to a mate a few months ago:
Oh ok, since I owe you, I'll explain one of the stupid work related beer incidents.
Basically, me and a few lads normally go straight to the pub from work on a Friday (usually about 3:30-4pm). This will either result in us staying out and getting really drunk, or me making it down the local already pretty tipsy (pissed), meaning I find it even harder than usual to hold a conversation with anyone, and end up even drunker than usual.
Anyway, this one Friday at the end of November, we decided to stay out a while longer than usual, cos I wasn't going anywhere local, one of the other lads never does, and the other is just a pisshead (you can see why we get along. In fact we're forming a band, but that's another story).
So it's about 8:30-9pm and we're on Arundel Gate having just been to the Yorkshire Grey, and making our way to somewhere like the Globe or Howard. To set the scene, me and Mellard (pisshead) have had about 12 pints of Stella each, Nick (slightly more sensible) has had about 7 because he wasn't drinking at dinnertime due to work he had to do, or something. We're all a bit tipsy. Mellard's the worst though, I think he left work before us (we had stuff to do, he never does) and started drinking alone before we came out. And setting up a chess set in the Dev Cat for some reason. So to revise, he'd probably had 13-14.
Anyway, Mellard has taken it upon himself to run about like a lunatic. He gets a bit boisterous (sp?) when drunk, so then tries to wrestle me apparently (only Nick remembers this bit properly). So it turns out that I end up chucking him on the floor, and we roll about for a bit, dangerously close to the edge of the kerb and oncoming buses. 1-0 Webster.
From here I remember, because it's hilarious. Mellard gets up and starts running about like a deranged fool. He's been bitched by the world champion of everything (me), so decides to take a charge at Nick. Nick, being slightly more sober, simply sidesteps as Mellard comes charging at him with his head down and arms outstretched. Unfortunately, Nick was previously stood in front of a lamppost.
I think you can guess what happened next.
In fairness to him, he didn't fall down, but just staggered back a bit. Having never seen anyone run head first so hard into something so metal before, my first reaction is to laugh lots and lots. To cut a long story short, he bleeds a lot, Nick phones his girlfriend and we end up in Rotherham Hospital. Northern General was a lot closer, but then Roth is closer to Wath where Mellard lives, and more importantly, my house.
I stayed with him and sent Nick and his girlfriend home. We then proceeded to sit there talking rubbish, while drinking bottles of beer I bought at the pub we waited outside when Nick's girlfriend was on her way.
Fun for all the family. I still chuckle when I think about it. But at least it proves it's just not us two that get injured when drunk.
Oh yeah, bonus story: Went straight for beer at about midday on xmas eve. Got home about 5:30pm more drunk than I should have been. Mellard phones me from Bentley (near Doncaster) having fallen asleep on train. I laugh at him then decide I need a lie down before I decide if I'm going out again....only to wake up at 2am, stone cold sober and wide awake. Can't get back to sleep, so proceed to text everyone merry xmas messages (waking some people up who are stupid enough to leave their phones on), then watch TV until it's time to get up. It was like being a kid again, not being able to sleep cos santa's been. Of course you've changed your phone number, so didn't receive my 'amusing' anecdote/season's greetings. Unlucky.
Anyway, I've definitely typed too much now, but at least with me boring you, you can't complain that I never send you anything again.
If you've never seen anyone run head first into a post before, you're missing out. As an aside, the girl I sent that message to recently had over a year of operations and physio after falling down with a wine bottle in her hand. It's probably dangerous to know me or something.
Anyway, this is already two more posts than I ever thought I'd make on one of these things. I feel so dirty. I probably am dirty, actually.
Oh well, Friday tomorrow- here's hoping I'm not seeing fit to update it again on Saturday.
Well it turns out that they do. Here follows another email I sent to a mate a few months ago:
Oh ok, since I owe you, I'll explain one of the stupid work related beer incidents.
Basically, me and a few lads normally go straight to the pub from work on a Friday (usually about 3:30-4pm). This will either result in us staying out and getting really drunk, or me making it down the local already pretty tipsy (pissed), meaning I find it even harder than usual to hold a conversation with anyone, and end up even drunker than usual.
Anyway, this one Friday at the end of November, we decided to stay out a while longer than usual, cos I wasn't going anywhere local, one of the other lads never does, and the other is just a pisshead (you can see why we get along. In fact we're forming a band, but that's another story).
So it's about 8:30-9pm and we're on Arundel Gate having just been to the Yorkshire Grey, and making our way to somewhere like the Globe or Howard. To set the scene, me and Mellard (pisshead) have had about 12 pints of Stella each, Nick (slightly more sensible) has had about 7 because he wasn't drinking at dinnertime due to work he had to do, or something. We're all a bit tipsy. Mellard's the worst though, I think he left work before us (we had stuff to do, he never does) and started drinking alone before we came out. And setting up a chess set in the Dev Cat for some reason. So to revise, he'd probably had 13-14.
Anyway, Mellard has taken it upon himself to run about like a lunatic. He gets a bit boisterous (sp?) when drunk, so then tries to wrestle me apparently (only Nick remembers this bit properly). So it turns out that I end up chucking him on the floor, and we roll about for a bit, dangerously close to the edge of the kerb and oncoming buses. 1-0 Webster.
From here I remember, because it's hilarious. Mellard gets up and starts running about like a deranged fool. He's been bitched by the world champion of everything (me), so decides to take a charge at Nick. Nick, being slightly more sober, simply sidesteps as Mellard comes charging at him with his head down and arms outstretched. Unfortunately, Nick was previously stood in front of a lamppost.
I think you can guess what happened next.
In fairness to him, he didn't fall down, but just staggered back a bit. Having never seen anyone run head first so hard into something so metal before, my first reaction is to laugh lots and lots. To cut a long story short, he bleeds a lot, Nick phones his girlfriend and we end up in Rotherham Hospital. Northern General was a lot closer, but then Roth is closer to Wath where Mellard lives, and more importantly, my house.
I stayed with him and sent Nick and his girlfriend home. We then proceeded to sit there talking rubbish, while drinking bottles of beer I bought at the pub we waited outside when Nick's girlfriend was on her way.
Fun for all the family. I still chuckle when I think about it. But at least it proves it's just not us two that get injured when drunk.
Oh yeah, bonus story: Went straight for beer at about midday on xmas eve. Got home about 5:30pm more drunk than I should have been. Mellard phones me from Bentley (near Doncaster) having fallen asleep on train. I laugh at him then decide I need a lie down before I decide if I'm going out again....only to wake up at 2am, stone cold sober and wide awake. Can't get back to sleep, so proceed to text everyone merry xmas messages (waking some people up who are stupid enough to leave their phones on), then watch TV until it's time to get up. It was like being a kid again, not being able to sleep cos santa's been. Of course you've changed your phone number, so didn't receive my 'amusing' anecdote/season's greetings. Unlucky.
Anyway, I've definitely typed too much now, but at least with me boring you, you can't complain that I never send you anything again.
If you've never seen anyone run head first into a post before, you're missing out. As an aside, the girl I sent that message to recently had over a year of operations and physio after falling down with a wine bottle in her hand. It's probably dangerous to know me or something.
Anyway, this is already two more posts than I ever thought I'd make on one of these things. I feel so dirty. I probably am dirty, actually.
Oh well, Friday tomorrow- here's hoping I'm not seeing fit to update it again on Saturday.