Once went to a Christmas party in the West End with an ex-girlfriend's company. It was owned by a couple of 20 something posh lads whose Daddy had given them the company to cut their teeth on. They paid for the night, and there were trays of Sambucas, wine, beers, shots coming all night. Got absolutely steaming and then got some fish and chips on the way home to try and soak up the alcohol. I was on the last train home from Charring cross, they are always packed, hot and stinking of take away food. I started feeling really rough and got the hot and cold sweats, remember somebody saying 'That bloke's gonna throw up' and thought oh **** that's me. With that I knew I was going to up chuck, but had nowhere to go. So I went to the doors and remember throwing up into my hands and trying to put it into the bin Not a good scene. I got off at the next stop alone because I couldn't face the other passengers. Then had a 9 mile walk home.
Still nothing on the smelly disgusting fcukers who crack open an egg mayo sandwich... how people can eat something that smells like a beer fart is beyond me...
Used to work with this Danish ****er who are rollmops for breakfast. I'd walk into the dealing room shortly before 7am - sometimes pretty hungover too - to be greeted by the stench of his ****ing rollmops. He very nearly ended up wearing them one morning. Wisely he scarpered off to the toilets to finish the disgusting things off!
I've got three young kids so very often have to finish off pizza's or chips or burgers which they don't/won't eat. This after I've had my own. I refuse to buy food in a restaurant and it not be eaten!
