Thursday, October 26, 2006
The last time I went to a stag night I got invited by a friend who knew of a friend's friend who was celebrating his last night as a single person. We arrived as he was pretty much bollocks'ed. The trick was to arrive at his home en masse ready to pin him down and put a load of immac (or what ever its called these days) on his nether regions. Why I found that amusing then I don't know. Anyway as we were waiting for his best man to deliver him to his doom, one of his mates mentioned that he collects weapons of old. Swords, knives, you get my point. At this point working out the maths, pissed bloke+loads of bloke ready to pin him down+immac+stranger (me)=very dangerous place to be. So with that the moment arrives and down the floor he goes while reciting every kind of expletive known to man. Whilst participating in this apparent jovial male bonding (you've got to be kidding), as he continued spitting blood, he said out aloud, "that bloke in the red shirt, he's a dead man!!" Me!! As he took a swing for me as one chap lost his grip on his arm, I smartly or instinctively moved and he ended up lamping his best man! How cool was that! After hearing his screams as he got into the shower I decided to stand outside ready to run anticipating a huge sword of a thing possibly penetrating parts of a man that can only be described as a violation. Twas not the case however and how we laughed and joked afterwards. To tell the truth, it still gives me a cold shiver of what could have happened.