Hotel
A number of years ago, and for reasons totally irrelevant to this story I found my good self having to share a hotel room with my dearest Dad.

I was knackered, so retired to bed, leaving Hat Snr to prop up the bar.

Having drifted off into my much deserved sleepy time the unmistakable sound of Pissed Bloke Trying To Be Quiet started to intrude, followed by my retinas burning as the twat turned the light on. Rolling over to lie on my side, I opened my eyes ready to berate the noisy fucker.

I have since learned that at that point he was desperately trying to remove his trousers in a way that only a pissed bloke can, ie. hopping round on one leg as he bends over to try and free his foot from a trouser leg.

What I actually saw, and filling my whole field of vision, was his naked arse, as he slowly toppled backwards.

And sat on my face...

This was how I came to call my dearest Dad a stupid cunt for the very first time.
( TheMattInAHat has a particular... odour..., Tue 2 Jun 2009, 18:57, 1 reply)

"And sat on my face..."
Priceless... gets a click from me
( chart cat has an itch, Wed 3 Jun 2009, 6:03, closed)