Nightclubs
Thinly-disguised entrances to Hell where bad things happen. Tell us your dancefloor disasters.
( , Wed 8 Apr 2009, 12:35)
Thinly-disguised entrances to Hell where bad things happen. Tell us your dancefloor disasters.
( , Wed 8 Apr 2009, 12:35)
« Go Back
I went to "the dancin'" in East Kilbride hundreds of years ago.
I'd never been to "Rundown" before though so me and Pete went in one Saturday night. The place was actually called "Downtown Miami" but it was fucking awful, hence the name.
We were in for as long as it took to get to the bar and shout "Heavy! Two pints of heavy! *fuck's sake* HEAVY! Fuck, OK, two JD's then! No ic...never mind." and there's someone, propped up on the bar, looking at me. A lady!
Pete, the cunt, hears Rozalla, gets his Jack and fucks off to do his Bill Cosby impression on the pish-stained dancefloor. I never saw him again that night.
This woman was gorgeous. She looked a bit drunk but it was about midnight and so was I.
"Hiya" she screamed. I was in love. "Alright?" I bellowed back. "Aye! You're a good lookin' basturt. Whit ye dein' here?" she yelled back.
"Jist up wi' ma pal. He's err therr, dancin' aboot lik a fanny!" I pointed out the whirling dervish that was Pete, scaring away all the women with his "jack moves".
And now the nightmare begins.
"Mon we'll git a wee seat!" "Aye"
I proceed to the nearest table, beckoning her with my eyes. "Whit a total fuckin' ride," I'm thinking as I sit down, casually clearing the bottles aside. She moves slowly, sexily, all the while staring straight at me with those "fuck me" eyes, takes two steps towards me and falls flat on her face, knocking strangers aside and flinging her Bailey's everywhere.
"FUCKSAKE, MAN! KEEP A HAUD O' YIR BIRD! SHE'S FUCKIN' HUMPED!" All eyes were on me. "But..." I dragged her up from the floor and because of this everyone thought we were a couple.
I got her into a seat and we chatted for a while, her all embarrassed, me now feeling a bit protective of her. She slipped on something, she told me, but now she's fine. She seemed OK so we had a high-decibel blether and a few more boozes. It came to chucking out time and I said cheerio but she followed me downstairs and we ended up having a big winch outside the TSB.
The nightmare continues...
As we were getting tore intae each other a cry goes up (the names have been changed to protect the "innocent") "Alright, Jeanette Kranky? Gettin' a winch, ur ye?"
Ho-ho. It's her pals. A gentle ribbing is OK.
"Ah'll tell yir man, ya wee hoor!"
Not so good.
"Ah've no goat a man. Thir only takin' the piss." she tells me. Phew! I thought I was in for a pummeling, and not the good kind.
We arrange to meet later that week. "Come round ma hoose. I'll get shot of the wee brother and we can fuck like animals." She agreed.
I sent the wee fucker to the library and she turned up. Unfortunately I'd been out the night before with some friends from work and had been speeding my tits off and, sad to say, I had a genital malfunction. No amount of persuasion would make the bastard work. She didn't leave unfulfilled though so I was of some use.
We arranged to meet at hers (ooh. she has her own flat! Very impressive to a 19 year old college boy) in a couple of days. I promised to be fully functional.
I turned up ready for a good hump. She opened the door and a strange smell hit my nostrils. It smells of baby poo.
"Come in."
I did so. Then a crying sound, almost like a crying bab... It's a fucking baby!
"Do you want to get down to it? My husband will be back from work in a couple of hours?"
*dustcloud*
( , Thu 9 Apr 2009, 14:50, 11 replies)
I'd never been to "Rundown" before though so me and Pete went in one Saturday night. The place was actually called "Downtown Miami" but it was fucking awful, hence the name.
We were in for as long as it took to get to the bar and shout "Heavy! Two pints of heavy! *fuck's sake* HEAVY! Fuck, OK, two JD's then! No ic...never mind." and there's someone, propped up on the bar, looking at me. A lady!
Pete, the cunt, hears Rozalla, gets his Jack and fucks off to do his Bill Cosby impression on the pish-stained dancefloor. I never saw him again that night.
This woman was gorgeous. She looked a bit drunk but it was about midnight and so was I.
"Hiya" she screamed. I was in love. "Alright?" I bellowed back. "Aye! You're a good lookin' basturt. Whit ye dein' here?" she yelled back.
"Jist up wi' ma pal. He's err therr, dancin' aboot lik a fanny!" I pointed out the whirling dervish that was Pete, scaring away all the women with his "jack moves".
And now the nightmare begins.
"Mon we'll git a wee seat!" "Aye"
I proceed to the nearest table, beckoning her with my eyes. "Whit a total fuckin' ride," I'm thinking as I sit down, casually clearing the bottles aside. She moves slowly, sexily, all the while staring straight at me with those "fuck me" eyes, takes two steps towards me and falls flat on her face, knocking strangers aside and flinging her Bailey's everywhere.
"FUCKSAKE, MAN! KEEP A HAUD O' YIR BIRD! SHE'S FUCKIN' HUMPED!" All eyes were on me. "But..." I dragged her up from the floor and because of this everyone thought we were a couple.
I got her into a seat and we chatted for a while, her all embarrassed, me now feeling a bit protective of her. She slipped on something, she told me, but now she's fine. She seemed OK so we had a high-decibel blether and a few more boozes. It came to chucking out time and I said cheerio but she followed me downstairs and we ended up having a big winch outside the TSB.
The nightmare continues...
As we were getting tore intae each other a cry goes up (the names have been changed to protect the "innocent") "Alright, Jeanette Kranky? Gettin' a winch, ur ye?"
Ho-ho. It's her pals. A gentle ribbing is OK.
"Ah'll tell yir man, ya wee hoor!"
Not so good.
"Ah've no goat a man. Thir only takin' the piss." she tells me. Phew! I thought I was in for a pummeling, and not the good kind.
We arrange to meet later that week. "Come round ma hoose. I'll get shot of the wee brother and we can fuck like animals." She agreed.
I sent the wee fucker to the library and she turned up. Unfortunately I'd been out the night before with some friends from work and had been speeding my tits off and, sad to say, I had a genital malfunction. No amount of persuasion would make the bastard work. She didn't leave unfulfilled though so I was of some use.
We arranged to meet at hers (ooh. she has her own flat! Very impressive to a 19 year old college boy) in a couple of days. I promised to be fully functional.
I turned up ready for a good hump. She opened the door and a strange smell hit my nostrils. It smells of baby poo.
"Come in."
I did so. Then a crying sound, almost like a crying bab... It's a fucking baby!
"Do you want to get down to it? My husband will be back from work in a couple of hours?"
*dustcloud*
( , Thu 9 Apr 2009, 14:50, 11 replies)
*chimes in for good measure*
It's bloody hard to write in dialect.
Great effort.
( , Thu 9 Apr 2009, 15:10, closed)
It's bloody hard to write in dialect.
Great effort.
( , Thu 9 Apr 2009, 15:10, closed)
That was good that...
...but I couldn't help picturing you as a young Alan Hansen all the way through.
( , Thu 9 Apr 2009, 15:20, closed)
...but I couldn't help picturing you as a young Alan Hansen all the way through.
( , Thu 9 Apr 2009, 15:20, closed)
Help ma boab!
Jings and crivens! I've stumbled into the Broons set in the real world.
What I want to know is was she Maggie or Daphne?
( , Fri 10 Apr 2009, 0:13, closed)
Jings and crivens! I've stumbled into the Broons set in the real world.
What I want to know is was she Maggie or Daphne?
( , Fri 10 Apr 2009, 0:13, closed)
Great story & well told with the accents
Although she seems to have gone all Home Counties in the last sentence?
( , Fri 10 Apr 2009, 4:29, closed)
Although she seems to have gone all Home Counties in the last sentence?
( , Fri 10 Apr 2009, 4:29, closed)
« Go Back