IBIZA.. Havvin it Laaaarge..
Sometime near to 1994, i forget exactly, the local football team I was kind of playing for - basically, they were a good team, won everything and strutted about with the kind of gusto that confident, good looking young men strut when they're good at something - and I say kind of playing for, because I was the player who was chuffed to bits just have been asked to sign on for the team in the first place and regardless that I then spent most of my Sunday mornings dressed in the team playing strip, overladen with a tracksuit and standing on the touchline. I was happy enough though as the kit barely fit my overweight-for-my-age somewhat wholesome physique and I say "happy", until on one occasion I came on as a substitute and then got substituted myself some 15 mins later. That kind of player. Anyway, I digress. But you get the point.

We won the league, we won the cup, we gained promotion to the top tier of local football and all in all had a jolly good season. At this point you may, of course again substitute the word 'we' in the previous sentence to that of 'they'. Talk then was of a end-of-season team holiday to the paradise holiday island of Ibiza and their famed nightclubs of Pasha and Amnesia where 24hr party people hang out. Not being someone who frequented nightclubs even back at home, feeling like a fish out of water every time I ventured near a place, that part of the holiday didnt appeal to me, but being included in the tour party guest list did - so I signed up.

Anyway, to Ibiza we went and it was pretty much everything it was acclaimed for. Days were spent drinking by the pool and evenings were a mix of untucked pressed shirts, too much cologne and a floppy haired group swagger into town - everyone trying their best to walk like Liam Gallagher (*sidenote - the assh*le).

Within at most a day or so, the goal tally (you can read between the lines here as to what i mean) stood at an impressive, albeit unaudited, 15 - 0. Group reminiscences of the previous nights escapades were constantly enjoyed the following day and as I laid low listening to The Stone Roses on my walkman (a band I didnt even like) I hoped that none would mention my lack of contribution to the overall team score.

Anyway, we booked up with the local rep to go to a new thing at that time which was a foam party at one of the local clubs, so as usual we trotted along and before you could say "Were havin it laaaaarge" for the 10 billionth time, the place was up to your neck in foam and to my surprise, I found myself dancing. Not only dancing but frolicking (yeah, I even used that word at the time when I was 19, go figure) with, as even my mates lauded, "a faaackin hot blonde". One Bez from the Happy Mondays dance later, I found myself playing school-disco-style tongue tennis with her, hands fondling about her person and glowing with a sense of enormous pride at this unexpected boost to my team cred. Jackpot. New found confidence came I think in the sense that my head was the only goods on show and so this poor unfortunate had somehow been sold short and perhaps wouldn't be engaging in my company if our embrace had been in an otherwise foam-less environment, who knows.

So, anyway.... What was the original question again? Ah yes, embarrassing dates.

Following day, my place on the row of sun loungers had become more inclusive within the group, no longer was I the guy on the end having random objects constantly thrown at me without warning and without obvious assailant, now I was the guy they all wanted to hear from. "Mate, she was faackin hot, did you shag her?" came the questions. To which I (I obviously hadnt, and had in fact gone for a piss, came back to see she had gone and then skulked my way back to my cell on the premise that if I wasnt there and she wasnt there, perhaps the very questions I was now being asked, would be asked the following day), with my assumptions now correct and my well rehearsed response firmly in place I replied, in my very best Mockney footy accent (which everyone had somehow adopted, even though we were all from Hampshire), was "Mate, if you must know, I f*cked her in your bed and jizzed on your pillow?" - Cue ensuing group laughter and my arrival. I really had arrived.

Then she appeared, loudly announced to us by one of my mates as "There's your bird from last night". "Oh no", thought I. And she drew closer along the poolside I, and the others, could see that she had something unusual in the way she walked. Commonly known as having an extreme case of 'club foot' I believe its called. And with discretion not being a forte within my compadres, another declared "look, shes a f*ckin mong". Cue more extreme laughter, rolling about and me having my hair and head manhandled.

Then, as she and her friends drew alongside us, another questioned, "Here love, has he got a small dick?". "Him" says she, "how would I know? I wouldnt shag that fat f*ck if he wasn't such a fat f*ck. I mean, LOOK AT HIM!". Cue hysterical laughter bordering on fever pitch, not just from my mates, but also her mates, families on holiday, the waiter collecting glasses and a couple on an overlooking balcony above. And if I'm honest, it wasn't the fat f*ck bit that upset me at the time, for that part was blatantly obvious, I think it was more the "LOOK AT HIM" bit, which she shouted at me with some real intent that really stuck in my windpipe. A windpipe which by now was closing by the second.

Probably a good 20 minutes then went by before the laughter had finally receded to something resembling just a bunch of deep long sighs, the kind you get when you've laughed so much that there's nothing left to give. And as I glanced about the poolside, one elderly gent had even removed his glasses so as to clean the lense, after he'd been laughing so much. Then another of the group piped in, "mate, not only did you NOT shag her, but you also got turned down by f*cking crippled mong"... She heard this, which I wasn't overly disappointed with, given her previous outburst, but nevertheless and despite the general exhaustion being felt around the pool, somehow this comment allowed everyone to enjoy the moment yet again for another 10 minutes. Then they threw me in the pool, together with my walkman still attached, just to cheer me up.

Anyway, thanks for listening, I think Ive turned a corner in my therapy and can finally close this particular nasty chapter in my life - despite the fact that my friends still constantly reminded of the incident, some nigh on 20yrs later.
(drinkingteddy, Fri 18 Oct 2013, 14:41, 27 replies)

Club Foot? That's around the corner from Pasha, isn't it?

(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 18 Oct 2013, 15:08, closed)

You and your mates are all colossal bellends.

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Fri 18 Oct 2013, 17:02, closed)

I got to sunday morning football team to decide that.

( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Fri 18 Oct 2013, 17:20, closed)

I didn't get past the subject line.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 18 Oct 2013, 17:57, closed)

Subject could have been the start of an amusing parody

( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Fri 18 Oct 2013, 20:59, closed)

Someone had to say what we all were thinking.

( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Fri 18 Oct 2013, 22:25, closed)

Having skim-read the story, I can only concur.

( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Sat 19 Oct 2013, 20:02, closed)

Thankyou, appreciate the feedback..
(drinkingteddy, Sat 19 Oct 2013, 10:50, closed)

Tell me, do you and your bellend mates still treat women like objects?

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Sun 20 Oct 2013, 8:42, closed)

I think nowadays it's more a case of treating objects like women.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Sun 20 Oct 2013, 9:28, closed)

Dont take the internet too seriously bud.
(drinkingteddy, Sun 20 Oct 2013, 10:54, closed)

So yes then.

( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Sun 20 Oct 2013, 17:49, closed)

Not sure what you mean. Are you asking me a genuine question, or taking the internet too seriously?

*EDIT - Oh, I see, is it that you want me to join some sort of anti-women club? If thats the case then im out, no way Im joining you and your puppies and calling some guys dead mother a "whore", for that would take the pasquinade of women to a level even me and my bellend mates wouldn't understand. However, If you just want me to wear a "humourous" T shirt* and sit about with you writing computer code** and quoting lines from Blackadder, then yes, I can do that.

*Dont possess any humourous T shirts.
**can't write computer code
(drinkingteddy, Mon 21 Oct 2013, 7:44, closed)

I love watching pasquinade. When I'm at the newsagents I say "Davo! Davo! Got any of em Pasquinade mags in?"
And he'll say, "You're in luck. Pasqinade's right in this year. Can't get enough of it, you blighters. Just had a crate in this morning, 10000 pages of primo pasquinade"
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 6:11, closed)

tl;dr
I've always wanted to write that
(Colonel Blink is now officially a pretentious prick, Sat 19 Oct 2013, 11:22, closed)

Go, you! Living the dream.
( Happy Phantom has been to Hastings, Brighton, and Eastbourne too, Sat 19 Oct 2013, 23:08, closed)

^Look at those big men, BD, Shambo and AB.^
Standing up for that poor defenseless woman. Championing her rights to look exactly like she wants to and not be objectified.

Whilst calling my wife a "fat manatee cow" and suggesting that my dead mother was a whore.
(s0ckpuppet logging out to reply to you if you're not careful, Sun 20 Oct 2013, 23:14, closed)

They did..!?!?! I kind of knew that there are a few who follow one another about a lot on this board, but I never realised that the all-round general trolling had now stooped that low... Theres one thing to copy/paste stock abusive replies to the OP just to get a rise from them and theres another to get personal about someones family.

sick.
(drinkingteddy, Mon 21 Oct 2013, 7:43, closed)

Not sure if sarcastic or not, so...
welcome to b3ta baby!
(s0ckpuppet logging out to reply to you if you're not careful, Mon 21 Oct 2013, 10:27, closed)

Apart from the fact that you and your mates are colossal bellends
have you seen any posts on this web site before?

We are allowed to use naughty words, we wont tell you mum.

you can write asshole and fuck it's okay it really is... you can even write cunt if you are feeling especially naughty.

On the other hand you could not bother posting anything again on account of the previously mentioned fact of your bellendness
(sittingduck Attention seeking, bullshitting fuck-knuckle, Mon 21 Oct 2013, 11:29, closed)

Vagina calling the flaps a cunt.

(s0ckpuppet logging out to reply to you if you're not careful, Mon 21 Oct 2013, 11:40, closed)

Thanks..
I think we've all clarified that I am a bellend, no objections here, but thanks for the confirmation in any regard. I'll also take on board what you've said and promise, should I choose to post in the future, to consider using full expletives. Especially now that I know its "allowed". Actually, Im quite excited, it makes it all so risque. Aren't we naughty being allowed to write rude words.
(drinkingteddy, Mon 21 Oct 2013, 13:26, closed)

The thing is
what I found incongruous was you were okay with writing a story about being a bunch of chauvinist wankers and taking the piss out of someone with a genetic deformity
(sittingduck Attention seeking, bullshitting fuck-knuckle, Tue 22 Oct 2013, 9:22, closed)

Yeah, cos you wont find any chauvinistic, self obsessed and condescending wankers on this site anywhere, will ya? If you read the story, I mean actually read the story as opposed to being someone elses puppy, you will see that it was written with complete self-deprecation in mind and I was the obvious butt of the joke from beginning to end. Clearly that part escaped you. I was 17, im now nearly 37. Can you see theme developing here? You write your abuse as if the event happened yesterday. Yeah, so the people I went on holiday with, some 20 yrs ago, laughed at me mostly and a faceless, nameless, crippled mong (their words, not mine). So what? get over yourself and stop taking the internet too seriously.
(drinkingteddy, Tue 22 Oct 2013, 12:10, closed)

I'm not saying that you're a Bellend, but I'm not saying you're not.
your Bellendedness is completely up in the air as far I'm concerned. Like a flying Bellend.
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Wed 23 Oct 2013, 6:16, closed)

stop being a c*nt

(dyllon nice beaver., Thu 24 Oct 2013, 4:39, closed)

Excellent
Very enjoyable read - click.
(justin(e), Mon 21 Oct 2013, 15:22, closed)