I was very, very drunk

We left Durdle Door a day early to go to a party back home.
On the way back I popped into the local cider farm to pick up a gallon of fowl scrumpy with my last fiver.

My grandparents we out of town and asked me to look after their bungalow for the week, So I requested the help of my four Friend's.
We headed there, got showered, changed, grabbed our drinks and got into my car.
After a week in the metro, josh was refusing to drive.
So it was down to me and my car to get us to the party.

Upon arrival I sat down with my scrumpy and, pretending it didn't smell and taste like the contents of a tramps bladder, started to down it.
It didn't take long before the effects started to take hold, and very quickly, the room was spinning and I was not feeling too great.
I headed to the bathroom for a multicoloured yawn, I was well past the point of no return and josh was trying to pour more cider down my throat, to make me feel better.
This is all I remember of the night, the rest of the story is made up of bits and pieces Ive been told from the others.

Josh got worried as Ive been gone for an hour and there was a cue of people trying to get into the bathroom, so he decided he would have to get me out via the window.
Finding a fence post in next doors garden, he started hitting the window, trying to smash it to remove a passed out krusty.
I think it was at this point I woke up on the bathroom floor with a girl outside asking it I could reach the lock on the door.
I could, and they carried me out.

no one bothered to tell Josh who was still beating the window with a wet piece of wood.
Mike decided It was probably best that I didn't drive, and since he was the most sober, and nearly had a driving licence, that he would taxi us home. The party was nearly over anyhow.
they carried me to the car, and a guy called Nick jumped in saying he needed a lift and he wanted to show us something cool on the way home.
He had a Saturday Job in a country park and had the keys to the gate, so we headed there, while I continued being sick in my lap, in the passenger seat.

We got to the park and the four lads in the back seat was moaning it was cramped and smelt of sick, So Nick, being the considerate one left the car via the window and stood on the roof.
The game of rodeo commenced, with Mike ragging my car over the speed ramps trying to throw Nick off the roof, and me projectile vomiting into the windscreen.
I never did find out who won, or if Nick survived the night, Ive not seen him since so I doubt it.
My next memory was waking up in my car, alone, covered in puke,

Looking up there was foot prints on my sunroof and I had no idea where I was.
I rolled down the yellow and green splatted window to see my grandparents house at sunrise.
staggering out of the car I found the back door of the house wide open and the lads asleep in my grandads bed. The bungalow was trashed, like another party erupted there at some point. leaving me to clean both the house and a car almost full of recycled scrumpy.

You coming to the Beach Party

Guest story from Mike!

You coming to the Beach Party


One hot summer’s night, whilst on a surfing holiday in Bude, Josh and Mike were frequenting their favourite night spot (the Manor) for a few scoops of beer, a dance and to once again try their luck with the local women. That summer, playing the head hunter game of who could yield the greatest number of scalps, was the past time of choice. This particular evening, after establishing that the most successful strategy for pulling an eligible young lady was to bust some kick ass moves on the dance floor, Mike managed to snare a local filly. Not only was she hot, but she was also firmly in the locals circle of trust – a select committee that tourist like us were never allowed to enter. This privilege was literally an access all areas pass that entitled you to anything from lock- in’s to learning where the secret surf breaks were. This scalp was therefore a catch in more than one ways – and I not just talking about Sif.

On this occasion, the girl was in the know about a “cool” beach party somewhere along the coast – all the cool dudes where going to be there. Mike didn’t officially get a written invitation to the party but he was snogging her face off which naturally entitled him to a one off pass – surely?

Whilst Mike was negotiating entry in more than one context, Josh was bouncing off the walls, mine sweeping for beer and dangling the odd hook in the hope of pulling something. By now, the night was so long in the tooth that the lights were up and the only girls left on offer were transvestites, lesbians and hippocrocopigs, the type that kick start jumbo jets at Heathrow. So when Mike came with news that he had sealed entry to the beach party and that his hot chick had a friend, Josh jumped at the opportunity laid before him. Besides, he was always Mike’s wingman – a job that he did quite well and in fairness did quite well from.

The beach party was some 5 miles away in a discrete cove so transport was going to be a necessity. Fortunately Mike new squeeze was driving and, would you believe it, hadn’t been drinking – she must be naturally bubbly, Mike thought! The happy foursome piled into the car and took off at high speed to the party. Mike’s drunken, loved up feeling soon left him as the blood drained from his knuckles holding on for dear life. For anyone who doesn’t know the Atlantic Road that links the Widemouth Manor with Bude, I can only describe it as 5 miles of boy racer heaven and this girl was travelling, obviously going for a person best.

They arrived at the entrance to the beach car park sideways, Mike flung the door open and fell out of the car – kissing the ground in jest as he did so. The music was a distant thud towards the coast but the path to it was led by a thick electrical cable that originated from a house and disappeared into the darkness. The foursome followed the cable, Mike and Josh couldn’t believe their luck, they had heard tales about these parties but never believed that they were this well organised. Whilst Josh congratulated Mike on his latest acquisition to the scalp count, Mike noticed out of the corner of eye that his new girl was being rather friendly with a local chap who had sprung out of the bushes. Thinking nothing more of it other than a small town overfriendliness Mike and Josh continued their journey to the beach with their attention turning to where their next beer would come from.

With Josh a committed alcoholic, the burning desire to find the next beer was too great. Mike had to choose between settling down to married life with his new love or hunting down beer and checking out what additional talent was on offer. Mike, not being one to be content with his lot and definitely not understanding the meaning of commitment decided to join the hunt for beer and the odd chick along the way. It wasn’t too long before Mike hand a beer in one hand a new girl in the other and they were ready to party.

Josh and Mike were amazed at the level of detail the beach party organisers had gone to, there were six large pumping speakers blasting out trance music, a DJ set up in one of the caves and a sand dance floor where a gaggle of locals were preforming some kind of barefooted tribal dance. Mike and Josh joined in and danced until the first milky light of dawn. This was the sign that it was time to leave and for Mike to reacquaint himself with this evening first love. Finding her was the easy part; she was leading the tribal dancing and hadn’t stopped all night. She was dripping in sweet, the blood had drained from her face and her eyes where distant but the prospect of a lift home masked her with a new found beauty.
Mike asked what time she was going and if she could drop him and Josh back to their tent. “You must be joking love; I’m off my fecking tits mate” came the response. All of a sudden everything fell into place and the penny dropped that this girl had been pilling it up all night and that friendly chap in the bushes was in fact her dealer. It also became apparent that Mike and Josh had a long walk ahead of them.

Besides being innovative at find new methods of getting home, Josh was and still is a lazy git, so there was no way that he was going walk that kind of distance. Both had had previous form in borrowing vehicles to speed their travel home and bikes were a personal favourite of Josh. It therefore goes without saying that before too long Mike was keeping watch whilst Josh eased open the door to a garage of neighbouring house.

All was quiet, not even the sound of the thumping base of the beach party could be heard except for the snoring of the owner of house. This feller was either sleeping downstairs, kicked out of the bed by his wife because of his deep throated snore or he had fallen asleep in front of the TV and was now having an asthma- attack whilst the only the people could save him from certain death where nicking his bikes from right under his trumping nose.

It wasn’t too long before Josh reappeared with some good news, he had found two bikes but because he took the initiative he had first choice. Mike agreed and looked excitedly at Joshes fairly new and most worthy mountain bike. “Yours is in the shed” Josh said as he cycled past.
Mike crept around the gate and there she stood, a 1970’s style librarians wet dream. Both white walled tyres where flat as a pancake, there was a book rack on the back and the icing on the cake was a wicker basket firmly bolted to the front. Mike shrugged his shoulders and considered the alternative, a 3 hour walk back at the end of an exhausting evening or a considerably shorter ride on a less than fashionable bike. There was no competition and Mike stood on the pedal to get the first push off. As the wheels started to turn, Mike heard a familiar dink… dink…dink sound coming from the bike. The quicker Mike peddled that loader and more frequent the dink…dink...dink became. Be quite, Josh hissed as the court yard echoed with the deep bellow snoring and the dinking coming from the bike. Suddenly it dawned on Mike why the sound was so familiar, his sister’s bike had a similar sound - it was spokey dokes, Mike’s bike had the fall complement that included spokey dokes.

As Mike made his eureka moment public, the court yard filled with snoring, spokey doke dinking and chuckling. Josh compounded the situation by dropping his mountain bike as he curled up with laughter. Suddenly the snoring stopped; it was time to make a quick getaway before the snorer pieced together what was going on. Mike had a head start and by now his spokey dokes were dinking at a rapid pace. Josh clambered on his bike and stood on the pedal with all of his considerable weight to kick start his bike into action. However, in dropping his bike had knocked the chain off. With no resistance from the cogs, his weight continued forward until he crash into the bike using his crown jewels as a type of painful air bag to stop the impact to his face. Josh continued his fall into the collection of dust bins situated at the entrance to drive.

Things were now critical as the lights to house suddenly went on; fortunately Josh managed to scoot the bike out of the driveway and climber onto it as it reached the top of a small hill. Mike and Josh had escaped immediate danger by the skin of their teeth but they were able to see the funny side and fortunately had time to laugh and the sequence of events that had just taken place, put the chain back onto the bike and compose them-selves for the journey home.

Downhill was a doddle, Mike and Josh raced to epic speeds? Mikes flat tyre handicap was evened out by the spare tyre Josh was carrying around his middle.  With the wind in their hair, the sound of the ocean in the distance and the dink,dink,dink of the spokey dokes they made their way home with speed, they even had time to stop and offer a lift to a lonely girl heading in the same direction.

Before they knew it, they had arrived back the manor. They leaned their trusty steeds against the signpost directing you to Newquay and walked up the hill to their tent, still laughing at Mikes mode of transport. The morning came quickly and it was time for a midday surf, as the two sprint cyclists drove to the beach they had noticed that the recently liberated bikes had made their way back to their rightful owners - all was right again in the world!      

Spit-roast

Ben's parents used to have big family BBQs once a month, which we used to gate crash.
We jump in the Metro and head out to the beach in the new forest where they hire a bbq area for the day.
One classic line that will stay with me forever came from his mum, cyprus Jill.

"And later, we will spit roast a chicken!"

she never understood why we were pissing ourselfs for ages.
Spit roasting meant something totally different to our dirty minds.

Handbrake turn, handbrake turn!!!

Not being there myself, I am repeating this story after being retold it a few weeks ago.

Ben had a car.

Unfortunately it was not a Metro.

Ben had a huge sound system in this car. 600W sub, 6x9s 200w speakers everywhere, tweeters the lot, Ben loved his car.

The only thing Ben didn’t have was a driving licence...

The decision was made to try their hand at go-kart racing.

The only problem was the Metro was in use by Josh's mum. The fact she was a majority share holder was starting to become an issue .

So Ben came up with the great idea of taking his.

They got to the race track without a hitch, Mikes younger brother in the back panicking all the way there as Ben still not worked out how to keep the car in a straight line at that point.

It was on the way home that the fun started.

Back then you could say that Ben was easy to lead on, you could also say he liked pies a bit, and both would be a huge understatement.

As they left the gravel road leaving the race track Josh shouted to Ben “handbrake turn hand brake turn!!!”

Ben took this as good advice since Josh was the only one with a valid licence at the time.

And pulled up his handbrake..

the car span , and span, and span the other way for a bit , then found a tree in the middle of the road and parked itself neatly in the trunk.

Everyone leaving the race track cheered as they drove by, honking their horns and offering the lads abuse rather than help.

When Ben phoned his dad asking for a lift home, and explained about the near miss with the fox that he had to swerve around, and unfortunately, to save the poor foxes life he had to use a tree as a brake. He dad was not too pleased as you can imagine.

Water Taxi

This story was recently told to a captive audience at Mikes wedding.

We were in town drinking in a church that has been converted into a nightclub, checking out the local talent. When Mikes drink fell out of his glass, over the balcony, and down this girls cleavage.

Unfortunately she was being chatted up by a bouncer at the time who decided Josh and Mike should maybe drink somewhere else that evening, and throw them both out on there arse.

Under normal circumstance, me and Ben would have followed them, but we were trying to get inside these two birds we were chatting to, so left them to it.

Josh and Mike are a dangerous combination on their own. Especially when they have had a shandy or two.

During the long walk home they had to cross a river on a bridge, below the bridge was a old wooden boat that has clearly been dumped there as it failed as a sea worthy vessel.

In their drunken haze they knew that they lived by the river so decided to go home by boat rather than the more expensive taxi option.

Looking around for oars they found only one, Mike managed to get to it first.

Josh searched about and found a spade and soon they were pushing the boat into the water to start their voyage home.

Josh soon realised that the spade was not the best way to move the boat and made a grab for Mikes oar. Stamping on the bottom of the boat during the scuffle,

putting his foot clean through the bottom.

As the boat started to sink, Mike dived into the water and started the long swim back to the bank, fully clothed and fully drunk.

He turned to Josh and to his horror, sees him still in the boat , going down with it like the true captain he is.

“Josh?”

“yes Mike?”

“your drowning!!!”

“shit thanks dude” said Josh and he throw his newly acquired oar and started to swim, some distance behind Mike.

As Josh got to the river bank he noticed Mike, in handcuffs, having a nice chat to some nice policeman.

Thinking that they have been busted for nicking the boat, he had to think on his feet.

“ah there you are Mike” he shouted

“here’s that tenner man, cant believe you actually did the dare of swimming, you earned it

the police didn’t notice that Josh was dripping wet and that the tenner was soaked too.

It turns out that the nice police men, all their search lights the vans and the helicopter above were not looking for two drunk boat thief’s after all. They were after a guy with a knife.

House Party

Our adventures first started as our last GCSE finished.
With our new found freedom ,class mates started to throw a lot of party's. This is one of my favourites.
One night, in a nice quite housing estate, a girls parents went on holiday leaving there trusted daughter looking after there 5 bedroom house.
A few hours later we arrive.

You could tell this was going to be a good party before we even got inside.
There was drunk people everywhere.
This house had two front rooms and so many bathrooms I lost count.
The party was in full swing, and we were running low on alcohol already.

Thats when Ben discovered the girls parents secret stash of spirits.
It was hidden in a drinks cabinet, with a cupboard pushed up against it,
like we wouldn't have noticed .

We helped ourselves to our new endless supply all night.
Getting more and more wasted until the sun came up.
Josh was a bit reluctant to leave until the drink has been drunk,
It would have taken us a few more days at least,
so we compromised.

I was stood out in the garden having a smoke when I see Josh sat on the roof of the house with a washing basket.
He must have gone out the bathroom window.
He was trying to lower it into an alley way and was shouting me for help.
I scrambles up the side of the house best i can and grabbed the heavy washing basket and got it and Josh into the alley way.

This is when i realised the washing was really bottles of alcohol. Lots of bottles...all of them!
It was getting light, the rest of the lads already left ,passed out or found a bed, and we had to get this basket back home, it was too heavy for one person to carry,

so we walked like crabs struggling carrying the heavy load. every time a car drove passed we dived into a bush or garden incase anyone seen us.
Had a near miss with a cop car if I remember correctly.

We made it home eventually.
And had quite a few hangovers thanks to josh's roof climbing antics.

Porn Sleeping

It was a Friday night, I think we were still at school.
I know it was a Friday because the other four slept around mine. As was the usual arrangement.
Its so the others can have a drink without there parents finding out.
Mine were too busy getting divorced to notice.
We staggered home from what ever park we were hanging out in, to my empty flat.
My olds were out at a party or pub somewhere and were due home late.
Now would be a good time to show the lads the film I found in my parents bedroom.
I remember it being a bit hotter than the usual bluey s they used to have, so we were all sat around the front room in our sleeping bags, with a can of lager watching some Italians going at it on top of a car (it wasn't a metro).
When my mum walked in!
There was no time to say anything, so I pretended to be asleep.
So did Josh,Mike and Neil.
Only big Ben didn't notice the sound of the front door, he was too engrossed in the film.
What my mum seen was 4 lads asleep, and Ben with his nose almost touching the screen of a rather explicit sex scene.

Auto Surfing

Durdle door is surrounded by rolling fields, cliffs and a MOD tank base.
The first holiday we had there, just as it started getting dark, the hills came alive with tracer shells and gunfire.
So we went to have a look...

We piled into the metro and heading for the noise.
Dark, quiet roads, no one for miles, and a metro .
can mean only one thing...

AUTO-SURFING!

For those of you not familiar with this pass time, it involves opening the window, getting your top half of your body out the car and sitting on the window seal with your legs still in the car.
This enables us to pass bottles of wine over the roof of the car , while enjoying the fresh air...at high speeds.
This is of course entry level auto-surfing,

for the advanced techniques, often expertly performed by Josh. Involves sitting on the roof or bonet holding onto the roof rack.
One night, with mike behind the wheel of my car, Josh asked a old couple for directions to a pub while sat, cross legged on my roof.

I digress.

Josh is hammering it through the country lanes, over the hills, with us lot auto-surfing, paying little attention to the signs and scenery.
When we seem to be getting close to the action.
A little too close.

The roads are closed when the MoD practice shooting with tanks.
Well they are suppose to be.

For a minute it was like we were in a war film,
all of us screaming to josh to get us out of there.
I sware tracers were flying over our heads. You could smell the gunpowder .

We convinced ourselves that the tanks thought the bright yellow metro was for target practice, it was like firework night, in bangdad.

Probably not the first time I thought I was going to die in that metro, but one of the more memorable.

Josh finally managed to get us off the military roads and we moved our car party to safer places,
like weaving around the cliff edge.

The next day we retraced our journey to workout how we managed to get onto closed military roads during night ops.

Then josh spotted it.
A amour penitrating anti-tank shell .

Right under a sign saying Do not touch anything, risk of death.
(If someone still has that picture , it would be great to put it here.)

Like any bunch of well adjusted, drunk 18 year olds.
We through stones at it,
But its OK, we were perfectly safe,

We hid behind the metro.

The Fox

We found a local pub near to my house that assumed we were old enough to drink.
After a few months we were part of the regular crowd and was getting involved with running bbqs and events.
It quickly turned into our meeting place and watering hole.
We were asked to join in on a sponsored darts marathon, 12 hours of drinking and darts sounded like fun.
We got a lot of sponsor money that was collected before the night and headed to the pub for a 12 drinking session.
I remember it being really messy, and not a lot of darts were played.
It got to the end of the night and we were asked for the money we raised.
We checked our pockets ,
I think we had about £5 between us, we kinda spent it though out the day on beer.
I think we still owe the pub that.
A few weeks later it was Ben's 18th birthday,
So we held the party at the fox.
We got him a stripper, and all the old guys in the pub moaned about such disgusting things going on.
The landlord thought it was Ben's 21st birthday, we didn't bother correcting him as we have been drinking in the pub for well over a year by then .

Greatest hits

We used to come up with songs while staggering about.
  Here some of the better ones.

During a long walk to the beach , big Ben kicked off an argument that ended in this song being written.

Ill always be a fat bloke,
No matter what I eat,
ill always be a fat bloke,
And never see my feet.

Ill always be a fat bloke,
No matter what I eat,
Ill always be a fat bloke,
And have to beat my meat.



This, after unwanted attention from a girl.
(to the tune of house of the rising sun)

There is this whore,
In Durdle Door,
They call Sarah-Jane,
She is quite fit,
But inexperienced,
Now I'm wishing I was gay.


More as I'm reminded of them.

The Three Amegos

One night on Durdle Door camp site, after a heavy night drinking at the on-site club house, we are back at our tent looking for more lager when we hear a girl scream, followed by some crying.
Being the kind of lads that wouldn't get ourselves involved in other peoples affairs,
we ran out the tent to see whats going on.

I think it was Josh that found her, a barely dressed, rather drunk and very upset (read vulnerable) little hunny.
After calming her down with offers of lager and roll-ups, she managed to blurt out that some guy a few tents away upset her somehow.

Often fancying ourselves as white knights in shinning armour, we grabbed what we could from the tent and ran to the shower block to regroup and make our rescue plan.

Josh whispers "okey, okey. What have we all got"
Mike said  " i got a torch!   Hah!"
And throw it in the air and caught it.
I said " i got a cup   hah! "
throw it in the air and caught it.
Then Josh goes " i got a tin of peaches and a jar off coffee! Hah!"
Throws them both up in the air, caught the tin of peaches,
Totally forgetting about the coffee.

Gravity doing what it does best and brought the jar of gold blend coffee down.
It smashed with the loudest sound I've ever heard!
At 1am on a quiet camp site in the middle of nowhere.

We ran into the girls shower block, locked ourselves into cubicles and spent the next 30 mins absolutely pissing ourselves with laughter.

We forgot all about our heroic quest by the time we left the shower block that night and the hunny was gone by the time we got back to the tent.

I remember the three of us moaning about the noise and the mess the following morning to the site owners that was cleaning up the coffee, while we were waiting for our showers.

The night the metro tried to kill us

After a day at the beach, a storm was coming in, just like Mike predicted.
Not wanted to sit on a cliff with a gallon of scrumpy each from the local cider farm. We make Josh drive us into swanage .
Now this took a LOT of talking into, as no one likes to stay sober camping, especially Josh.

On our return, something was missing. Something important.
Something tent shaped!

When we put up the tent, tent pegs were in short supply, so we adopted a 'Im al-right Ron' method of tent erections.
This means grabbing all the pegs and securing the tent around your own air bed while everyone else was in the shower, so any big draughty holes was someone else's problem.
Unfortunately Josh got to the pegs first.

So with the old scout tent only being pegged to the ground in one corner, a child blowing bubbles could flatten it.
The storm had no problem.

Not wanted to let a little thing like no shelter ruin a holiday, we sized up the metro...
Josh and Mike called shotgun leaving me, big Ben, and Neil the back seat.
As you can imagine, big Ben was no small lad.

Putting our body boards under the car, we got in our new holiday villa and tried to settle.
With a gallon a scrumpy in each of our belly's, sleep came quick.

I awoke to bright sunlight and a strangely painful neck,
The pain was because every time my head fell onto big Ben, he pushed my head into Neil, and Neil was doing the same, using my head as a unconscious tennis ball.

Opening a steamed up window outside looked different, like its moved Backwards. And someone put a tent up touching the car in the middle of the night.
Josh parked the metro outside the shower block on a grass bank.
during the storm the car decided to relocate itself, 20 foot down the bank.
Our surf boards were all over the camp site, apart from one.
An old £5 kids surf board wedged itself into the underside of the car and stopped us from heading down the cliff!

We all still own our life to that surf board.

To rub salt in a big more, at that point, a bunch of local gippo kids came over and started to rob our tent.

The man with no arm

During a rather heavy evening , involving while lightning cider and tenants super strength lager, in the same can.
We headed across riverside park to the chippy.

I had my chips in one hand, and a lager in the other trying to eat as we walked.
When a guy with his arm in a sling, in his coat. Walked towards me.
Me being more that a little bit drunk shouted
"its the man with one arm! Run away!"

And legged it down a grass bank.
Now the only way to describe what happened next, would be to say I was going faster than my legs.
I fell, hard, in the air as I tripped I kicked myself in the back of the head, and landed on my face, which was in my chips.
I did what any self respecting pissed up lad would do ,
I laid there, in the mud, drank my beer, and ate my chips.

Poor Mike never recovered from seeing this. He still randomly bursts into laughter 20 years later.

First Adventure

Nine days after Joshs' 17th birthday he somehow managed to pass his driving test, which is just as well as we had our first holiday to Durdle door planned for the following day.
  Joshs' mum being nice or gullible, let him share her car.

The legendary yellow metro!

We grabbed our tent, lots of beer, a can of beans and some more beer and headed on our 1st of many lads holidays, many of us still 16.
A few hours later we arrive at the camp site , the back of the car quickly filling up with empty beer cans.
We throw up the tent and head out to swanage on the search for girls or beer,
Or even better, girls with beer!

And that's just what we found.

A few miles away, Im the middle of nowhere was a Group of people, mostly girls. Doing some kind of organised walk. Somehow Joshs' thought he knew one of the girls so pulled over to say hi.
Soon as the car stopped they all started asking for a lift, as they had 10 miles left to walk.
Joshs' being tight said he would take them where they wanted to go, but he will only make one trip. Me and the other three passengers were booted out on the side of the road, with just a crate of larger for protection from the wild life.

Everyone rushed for the car. As girls are clearly better at packing a car then any lad, One of the walker girls took charge and somehow managed to get everyone in!
The back seats were put down, and 3 people laid in the back, then another 3 layed on top, then another on top of them.
As far as Im aware, there was no accidental pregnancy's.

The poor metro had nine people in it, the boot wouldn't close, there was legs out of the windows and Josh had someone sat on his lap, but it moved! Very slowly it moved, with the tires rubbing the wheel arches and the little 1100cc engine screamed up the road.

I cant remember him coming back, I know he did and that he was gone bloody ages.
But we had finished off the crate of larger by then and the rest is a bit blurry.