Thetownend.com

Every week I go drinking in Horsham's resident Weatherspoon's on a Thursday, and every week I seem to return with a tale to tell you lot, mostly just to entertain Yeovil Red.  Every week, the tales get longer, less believable, and more unlikely, but after the 3 hour ordeal I've just endured you're gonna hear about it - whether or not you believe me!

2am, I leave Horsham's sole nightclub - Shelley's, or Shoebox, as it's affectionately known.  A slow walk up to a friend's house is made more exciting by a group of Chelsea fans in high spirit, and we enjoy a bit of banter.  My two friends and I continue walking, when suddenly the Chelsea fans (about 3 of them) return accompanied by an unsavoury looking chap who wouldn't have looked out of place at the head of the BNP (the dagger's on his forearms suggested he wasn't to be messed with).   A bit of banter later, and we're running.  I perhaps mentioned Chelsea bought the title, and how the fuck could they consider themselves Chelsea fans when they'd never heard of Sam Parkin and Rhys Evans.  One of them swung for me, but I ducked, more in cowardice and hope than geniune reflexes, and somehow he managed to take out his own leg....

Fortunately I run 5Ks 3 or more times a week, so I managed to easily outrun them, as did my 2 friends.  We split from the guy who lives in Horsham, but the two Crawley lads are left.  Breathing heavily, a police car who we'd seen whilst with the Chelsea fans passes by again and stops.  "Oi, get in now!".  Getting into the car, we're given a lecture about messing with drunks, and before long we're dropped in the middle of nowhere (approximately halfway between Horsham and where I live, Maidenbower!).

So, we walk up to my friend's house, where I bid my fairwell, and continue the four hour walk back to mine.  I thumb a taxi, driven by Osama bin Laden's more shaven friend, and get a lift to a house round the corner.  With no money in my wallet, and a minimum charge of 20 quid applied to credit cards, yet a bill of just 6.30 to fit, I proclaim I will fetch the money from the house, at which point I peg it.  However, the taxi driver had already read out my debit card so I'm hoping they didn't take note of it or are too stupid to claim off it....

But what a night.  I'm going to bed now.  You won't believe me, but I'm trying to get said mate to sign up here !!   :|

Cough!Bollox!Cough!Cough! :wink:

its your own fault, keep your mouth shut  :-))(

That would have been the clever thing to do...  I tend to get very protective of my team when I'm drunk!  They were being leary buggers themselves in fairness, and were probably looking for a fight.  It started out jovial, and messing about, then when I saw them again they'd totally changed.

Its not that unbelievable. in fact this kind of thing happens all the time

It's the fact that it always seems to happen to me which makes it unbelievable....

Though I went to my prom last night, got buggered and nothing out of the ordinary happened, except using my girlfriend's make-up to draw a black-eye on my face...

and you got buggered

Well, it pays to broaden the mind now and then I suppose...   :|