Drinking to excess
Discussion
Slightly inspired by the "I've given up drinking" brigade on the Sad People thread
And once more, old Flash does himself disservice.
Chosen weapon? Alcohol, of course.
Manner? Take one girl that you have the massive hots for, get hammered at your own party. When her taxi arrives, pick her up and carry her to her taxi. When asked by another chap if he can have a go, slur "No - Mine!" at him.
Result? Luckily much amusement from girl in question, who is a friend (yes - that all over again - I know, I know). She was impressed that I managed the feat (hardly tricky - she's only little).
Feeling? Embarrassed. But quite pleased at my manliness. Grr. Even if I was obviously only a step away from dragging the poor darling off to my cave by her hair.
Likely outcome? Nothing - she's just told me she's moving to Brussels in September :( Never picking a girl up again if it makes her emigrate.
And once more, old Flash does himself disservice.
Chosen weapon? Alcohol, of course.
Manner? Take one girl that you have the massive hots for, get hammered at your own party. When her taxi arrives, pick her up and carry her to her taxi. When asked by another chap if he can have a go, slur "No - Mine!" at him.
Result? Luckily much amusement from girl in question, who is a friend (yes - that all over again - I know, I know). She was impressed that I managed the feat (hardly tricky - she's only little).
Feeling? Embarrassed. But quite pleased at my manliness. Grr. Even if I was obviously only a step away from dragging the poor darling off to my cave by her hair.
Likely outcome? Nothing - she's just told me she's moving to Brussels in September :( Never picking a girl up again if it makes her emigrate.
Harry Flashman said:
Manner? Take one girl that you have the massive hots for, get hammered at your own party. When her taxi arrives, pick her up and carry her to her taxi. When asked by another chap if he can have a go, slur "No - Mine!" at him.
Absolutely fantastic.... that sort of behaviour should be encouraged!! Whilst out in Newquay dressed as a Surgeon 2 weeks ago (I know it is a cliche, but do not knock it until you have tried it!), I whisked a woman up the hill from town to where I was staying.... by piggyback (running)!! About a hundred yards in and a call comes out from a group of lads across the road..... "Doctor, is she going to live"!!
Krusty said:
Having read some of the previous 'Harry Flashman pulls again - not' threads I'll add this to the ever lengthening list of how not to act in public. 
All for getting lashed though. One of my better attributes...... The happy drunk
Better luck next time Harry
Oh, I've pulled! So that's OK.
However, object of true affection is emigrating
And I have got to the stage of getting totally memory loss. The carrying her to the taxi and possessive slurring? No recollection of it at all. She told me the next day while we were out picnicing in the park. Embarrassed? I was indeed.
Sod it, I'm going speed dating. It can't be any more disastrous than my self-organised romance disasters.
If ex-Lady Flashman knew about any of this, she'd be laughing her (delectable) ar5e off. Jesus.
>> Edited by Harry Flashman on Wednesday 22 June 10:00
Sod it, I'm going speed dating. It can't be any more disastrous than my self-organised romance disasters.
If ex-Lady Flashman knew about any of this, she'd be laughing her (delectable) ar5e off. Jesus.
>> Edited by Harry Flashman on Wednesday 22 June 10:00
Just to add - this is important; this particular girl B is the very person who drove me to BERGS2's house to pick up my (back in January) newly purchased TVR S2; I had recently broken up with ex Lady Flashman (happened in between me buying the car and going to pick it up!), and B offered me a lift to go down and get the car. I have to get it right - as she said to me on Sunday, out and about in the nelwy fettled TVR, roof down, sun blazing; "you, me and this car have a history".
Damn right - and I'd rather there was a future there too!
*plots cunningly*
Never follow Harry's example, chaps. You spend 6 months getting involved with all the wrong girls, then finally start to get things right with the one who matters, and she emigrates. Is it a wonder a man turns to drink?
Damn right - and I'd rather there was a future there too!
*plots cunningly*
Never follow Harry's example, chaps. You spend 6 months getting involved with all the wrong girls, then finally start to get things right with the one who matters, and she emigrates. Is it a wonder a man turns to drink?
Just had another personal disaster tonight....time to go to bed.... Some people sometimes have a foolish incident, some are prone and some are just born fools. I'm coming around to thinking that I'm a fool.
It reads as seriously funny stuff but it's quite tragic really.
Tomorrow, my autopilot will wake me up with a smile, ready to do it again.
Edit:- I'll elaborate on this one a bit, a couple of weeks ago I met a really nice Milf in the local pub, (bit of a complicated situation which I'm not entirely sure about but she appears to be single) so, come hell or high water, we have to protect her status as a lady and keep it quiet. I don't do mobile phone and so communication is through a series of grunts/raised eyebrows/etc. So, I saw her and in the nervous magic of it all said that I would see her at the pub on our 2 week anniversary. NB:-I don't do patience and have been literally pacing up and down waiting for my next installment of magic. So...... I went to the pub got my series of clues and dinging our glasses and 3 pints of orange squash (I was really going to
her brains out!). I left the building. What should have happened next was that she should have come around the front of the pub (stupid 'o' clock lock in) and we should have gone back to her place via some car bonnets/big piles of straw bales/etc/etc. Sheer magic, the stuff real dreams are made of. Anyway, she hasn't turned up (remember I'm seriously impatient) so see the security light go on in the pub and think "Aye-Aye!" then there is some gravel noises and I think yeee haaaaaa!!!! The sort of feeling a car gets when someone shoves half a bottle of nitrous oxide into its plenum. Anyway, I'm trying to be discreet and I hear that the shuffling has gone into next doors driveway. So, I go along our hedge and peek through the bushes, after some subtle "I'm here clues" I ain't getting very far so I turn to the unsubtle ones, IT IS MY NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS WIFE WHO HAS LOST HER PET RABBIT, cue torch in the face and WHAT THE ARE YOU DOING STUART? (Visualise my stupid gurning face full of anticipation between 2 ivy bushes a la gorillas in the mist). It was tragic, I felt like a total prize tt, if I had a box of hamlet cigars, I would have smoked 2.
The worst part was that I had only had 3 pints of orange squash.
Pure Stuey gold... what a total fool? At least I can laugh at myself though 
>> Edited by love machine on Thursday 23 June 07:31
It reads as seriously funny stuff but it's quite tragic really.
Tomorrow, my autopilot will wake me up with a smile, ready to do it again.
Edit:- I'll elaborate on this one a bit, a couple of weeks ago I met a really nice Milf in the local pub, (bit of a complicated situation which I'm not entirely sure about but she appears to be single) so, come hell or high water, we have to protect her status as a lady and keep it quiet. I don't do mobile phone and so communication is through a series of grunts/raised eyebrows/etc. So, I saw her and in the nervous magic of it all said that I would see her at the pub on our 2 week anniversary. NB:-I don't do patience and have been literally pacing up and down waiting for my next installment of magic. So...... I went to the pub got my series of clues and dinging our glasses and 3 pints of orange squash (I was really going to
her brains out!). I left the building. What should have happened next was that she should have come around the front of the pub (stupid 'o' clock lock in) and we should have gone back to her place via some car bonnets/big piles of straw bales/etc/etc. Sheer magic, the stuff real dreams are made of. Anyway, she hasn't turned up (remember I'm seriously impatient) so see the security light go on in the pub and think "Aye-Aye!" then there is some gravel noises and I think yeee haaaaaa!!!! The sort of feeling a car gets when someone shoves half a bottle of nitrous oxide into its plenum. Anyway, I'm trying to be discreet and I hear that the shuffling has gone into next doors driveway. So, I go along our hedge and peek through the bushes, after some subtle "I'm here clues" I ain't getting very far so I turn to the unsubtle ones, IT IS MY NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS WIFE WHO HAS LOST HER PET RABBIT, cue torch in the face and WHAT THE ARE YOU DOING STUART? (Visualise my stupid gurning face full of anticipation between 2 ivy bushes a la gorillas in the mist). It was tragic, I felt like a total prize tt, if I had a box of hamlet cigars, I would have smoked 2. The worst part was that I had only had 3 pints of orange squash.
Pure Stuey gold... what a total fool? At least I can laugh at myself though
>> Edited by love machine on Thursday 23 June 07:31
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