oh! how the stories stack up

[moscow/findo]

Do I have an amusing story to share with you guys, or what?

eh?

eh?

Now, some of you cool kids may know, that I'm not the sort of bloke to go around looking for trouble, but last night was no ordinary night.
oh no
It started with the birthday party of a little known go-getter named angie. slightly up herself, she used to go to St. Al's in Glasgow, so I suspect her parents are fair minted. And papes.
A few hours previous, disgustingly hungover, I had been told that another late appearance at work would lead to a referal and likely my dismissal.
Ugh... "I know! Let's get plastered again" said the little man working the series of cogs inside my shrivelled and fragile brain.
So with his consent I set forth to this party and without spending any money got reasonably far in my quest.
It was at this point that I had perhaps the greatest idea I have ever had.

LET'S GO TO THE G.U.

I've never been, it seems like a good plan.

For those uninitiated, the Glasgow University Union is a hangout for dirty birds and rugby players. Famously shit to anyone with a modicum of taste - seriously, I'm no snob - the only thing that drew me to this most unlikely of ideas was the promise of cheap booze and the possibility of starting a fight.

85p for a vodka and dash?
Ye shit me olde school style?
How the fuck do they make money?

Unfortunately, all the people at this party, sensing my desperation are quick to rubbish this golden epiphany.
All but one.
Step forward Funny-Face Alan, a man of few words.
But actions speak louder than words, leds n gents, actions speak louder than BOMBS...

Armed with a tenner and a warm stella, we stumble our way to Gibson Street, and breathe in our surroundings.
It's dead.
In fact, so dead, that the beast working the door lets us in for free. Oh yes. That's two more quid to spend on glens and mixer, thank you very much.

True to everyones word, the place is more manky than Jacko's knob after some children have visited Neverland [Is that libellous?]. The first thing I see is some bird's minge poking out of her... skirt? Surely not. Skirt implies clothing, coverage, even elegance. This is more like a ragged scarf that's been loosely tied somewhere around her midriff.
In the corner I see a group of young men sporting Liverpool Medic RFC t-shirts.

Alan has already gone to the bar and brought to me two double Vodka and Cokes.
Here we go, here we go, here....

We go upstairs. A rowdy bunch of lads are bawling their way through what is possibly the best rendition of Flower of Scotland I ever want to hear.
Things, surely cannot stay this good for long.
How wrong I was.

Within five minutes we've downed our drinks and headed for some more.
"Same again Barkeep".
I'm munted. I can barely see let alone dance. But here we are attempting music/movement co-ordination amongst... well... morons. Proper fucking morons.
An example case of Neandethals (one male, one female) have approached Alan.
He takes one glance, and pronounces to the semi-female:
"I think he's really into you, puppy ".

Alan is beating the drum of war.

Suddenly, groups of hard looking men are staring at him from most directions. Some even attempting to point.
Pointing. You wouldn't believe it to look at them, but honest to God, some of them can do it.

We beat a hasty retreat.
It's only half one and the night is as young as Jacko's preferred age group.

Next stop: The QM.
The QM ranks somewhere above the GU in the class stakes, but let's not mince our words here, it's no Ministry of Sound , or wherever the kids are going these days.
The bouncer is having none of it.
The place shuts at 2 and he's not keen to let us in.
"Mate, come on" - I muster.
"Where are you from?" - tries Alan.
"What?"
"Where are ye fae?"
"Muirhead"
"I'm fae fuckin'... Hillington. Uv just fuckin' driven aw the fuckin' way tae git hear. Yer no gonnae... fuckin'... let us in, are ye?"
"No"
"You fuckin'... ken big Davey Brent?"
"What?"
" Big Davey Brent " - Alan is shocked
"He's fuckin'..."

I've left. I'm cold and need to be sick somewhere.

By the time Alan catches up I'm wretching over a gutter.
Alan points out that the car next to me is a porche.
I realise I'm being sick.
The two come together to form the last and final great idea of the night.
As bits of my lunch splash over the cars bonnet, alan waps out his knob and releaves himself over the cars door handle and window.

It's bed time.

[Lindsay]

a normal night out at glasgow uni by sounds of things

[moscow/findo]

I feel no shame

[Lovecat]

Reasons to like the GU

1) It has 5 bars that you can go to, so theres never much of a queue.
2) Eight-five-fucking-pence for a vodka!!!!
3) The play Ghostbusters
4) They once played the Smiths
5) the podium bit in the cornor is amusing for about a second. Or it could have been an hour I dont know.
6) umm, its 85p for a vodka
7) Nicos round the cornor
8) 85p for a vodka

[PrettyPumpkin]

Good effort!

[Ge'd]

Originally Posted by moscow/findo

Here we go, here we go, here....

We go upstairs.

Fantastic.

Originally Posted by moscow/findo

I've left. I'm cold and need to be sick somewhere.

I love you...

[thomasjmaccoll]

did you get to work on time?

[Ryan.]

Who says HST is dead?

[moscow/findo]

Originally Posted by thomasjmaccoll

did you get to work on time?

mercifully it was a friday night...

How I love weekends and the sleep it brings.