The title means nothing, just happens to be one of my favourite songs. Normally I am a beer and wine drinker. Don't normally touch spirits. Too strong for me. 15 years ago, however, got involved stupidly in a Tequila session after god knows how many pints. Managed to knock myself unconscious right next to The Pittodrie Bar. Somehow managed to get home plastered in blood and with a deep big scar on my forehead. Phoned the hospital the next day and informed them that I had "fallen off my bike yesterday" to which the response was "why did you not come in straight away" followed by "so you fell coming home from the pub". I replied "Erm, yeah that's right" They couldn't stitch it as I had left it too long. So shots I don't do. Any other horror stories out there? And what's your favourite shot?
Great thread. I knew there was a large GC population hoping this thread topic would arise and lo, here we are. I enjoy tequila and most shots, other than ****ty watery piss ones like sourz. No horror stories either, as i'm not a **** who can't handle his booze.
Magazine were an excellent band Tequilla sends me aff ma heid. Total blackout. Normally I face plant the ground, ruin my clothes etc when I drink it. Once had my sister in law pulling glass shards oot ma arse after sitting on a glass topped coffee table. Also set my shirt alight when drinking sambuca. Normally I stay away from shots for very good reason
I once shot a man. Early one morning With time to kill I borrowed Jebb's rifle And sat on a hill I saw a lone rider Crossing the plain I drew a bead on him To practice my aim My brother's rifle Went of in my hand A shot rang out Across the land The horse, he kept running The rider was dead I hung my head I hung my head I set off running To wake from the dream My brother's rifle Went into the sheen I kept on running Into the south lands That's where they found me My head and my hands The sheriff he asked me Why had I run And then it came to me Just what I had done And all for no reason Just one peace of lead I hung my head I hung my head Here in the court house The whole town was there I see the judge High up in the chair Explain to the court room What went through you mind And we'll ask the jury What verdict they find I felt the power Of death over life I orphaned his children I widowed his wife I begged their forgiveness I wish I was dead I hung my head I hung my head I hung my head I hung my head Early one morning With time to kill I see the gallows Up on a hill And out in the distance A trick of the brain I see a lone rider Crossing the plain And he'd come to fetch me To see what they'd done And we'd ride together To kingdom come I prayed for god's mercy For soon I'd be dead I hung my head I hung my head I hung my head I hung my head
I'm not into shots but when me and me mate went to Majorca for two weeks, 2004 when the European Championships were on, we kept going in a little local bar because they were showing BBC and ITV coverage of the games. After a couple of days, they started offering us free shots of something I'd never heard of: Jagermeister. Every time we bought beers they'd give us a shot each free. Felt like we'd discovered this new exotic drink. Now every **** drinks it.
Same with me in Prague in 2002. Me and my mates got talking to a couple of Sparta Prague ice-hockey youth team players. They were buying shots of Jagermeister and Goldschlager. We used to drink with this short-arse, Scottish, ginger oil-rigger too, he couldn't hack the shots and ended up taking a swing at one of my mates. Missed by a mile, and my mate - who couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag - somehow managed to deck him. As for a horror story, I set my hand on fire with a flaming sambuca in Malia. Woke up the following morning with blisters all over that hand
Reminds me of being in the bar upstairs from the ubiquitous chip in ashton lane watching a guy chatting up a girl, doing reasonably well until the top he was wearing - unnoticed by him - started to become singed from a light going up a pole at the bar he was leaning against, then started to wisp some smoke - still unnoticed by him - and then burst alight ..... wasnt you . was it ?
Nah, if it was me I widny have being doing at all well at the chatting up the burd bit. The burning the shirt bit am sorted on. In fact, watching me chatting up a burd wid be far funnier than watching me burning my shirt.
I was at a beach party once,gorgeous house fronting on to the sea,on stilts the whole works.A great night had by all but I partook in the festivities a bit much and ended up maggotty so went for a walk to try and clear my head.Seemingly I went missing for a good while and people were getting worried but what transpired was that I went under the house,lay down and started singing.I vaguely remember hearing a big shhhh and some lad saying I think I can hear "a song from under the floorboards".
