» Stuff You've Overheard

Unfortunate nickname...
A few *ahem* years ago when I was still at school. One Taggart family of brothers all ended up with the nickname "shags". Not as fortunate as you might think, it turns out.

We were heading downstairs for lunch in the common room, and me and my mate passed a bunch of younger lads heading the other way. When we overheard the following two words:

"Shags's brother".

Bet he loved being called that. I nearly urinated meself.
(Thu 10th Jun 2004, 17:44, More)

» My Worst Vomit

Not a unique story, I'm guessing, but happy memories...
When I was 19 I took a job in a local hotel for the only reason 19-year olds ever take such jobs: I needed the money. The hotel had been closed the previous year (due to some "bad press" when someone had been shot in it), so they were keen to revamp its image from paramiltary shooting gallery to respectable venue. So as part of our induction course, they trained us to make and appreciate cocktails, which involved drinking most of them.

I think you can see their blunder galloping across the horizon. Even in small quantities, a shit-load of cocktails is still a shit-load of cocktails.

Four hours later I stumbled into the house I'd only moved into one week earlier, up to my room at the front of the house, over my sleeping-bagged mate and over to the window, climbing onto the sill because I'd decided that it would be a perfect place to "get some air".

Turns out that air reacts badly with cocktail-lined stomachs, so as my mate sees nothing but a doubled-over, gurgling sillouhette, I broadly yakked all down the red-painted front of the house and over the downstairs bedroom window.

Happily, the house was visible from a large area, so my handiwork was there for all South Belfast to admire. The last time I was back home, it had been painted a nice vomit-friendly colour.
(Mon 23rd Aug 2004, 18:36, More)