Gazlar's Dating Disasters
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I remember one ex girly who got a bit frisky and asked me to 'Kiss her where it smells'. So I drove her to Birmingham."I spent most of my money on birds, booze and fast cars: the rest of it I just squandered." [George Best]0
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Just been reading through this lot I think my wife thinks i'm going a bit mad laughing at my PC so much :-)
Only really had two fail dates but both very much the same.
1st one out with lads and I am so drunk I can hardly stand when I bump into a mate of mines ex, now the image I had of her was a shapely blond with fantastic rack, so I proceed to talk the talk and end up sucking her face like Alien and have a bit of a grope, mid way though my mate appears next to us and I give it the sly is she alright kind of look, I get the seal of approval off him so swap numbers and arrange to meet up the next night, christ when she turned up she was twice the size I remembered her and rough as f@ck looking and the silly hippo was well up for us being an item I spent the whole evening trying to do anything to put her off, spent weeks ignoring her calls until she got the message. When I told my mate what she was like and why had he said she was a good'un his reply was he was just as pissed as I was and he thought we were going to go 2up on her!
2nd one, I was with some friends many years back and there was this quite pretty girl I got chatting to but I never got a her details and at the time really regretted it, until about 6-7 years later it came up in conversation about how for years was besotted with this girl but had missed my chance and someone said they knew her and arranged for her to meet me, oh sh!t as the time came and nelly the elephant came waddling into view! I was hoping she wouldn't recognise me and I could leg it but no I had to take the cake eater out to the booked dinner date whilst the whole time thinking how did she get that fat! Ironically enough I offered to drive her home turned out she lived on a farm, no doubt even had her own pen. 2 months she rang my phone after that night all her friends gave me grief as she was in tears as I wouldn't speak to her.
I have a great one for another time about my nutter Para mate.0 -
Lucky escape for you there then, by the sounds of it. 0 -
Only one I can think of at the moment was after a party me and some mates had been to. The following day one of the girls we knew who'd been there came over to me and asked if I remembered her mate. I said I did (she was pretty hot) so she said her mate had asked if I'd like to meet her for a drink one night.
I agreed, we set it all up for later in the week, and off I went.
Only problem is, it wasn't actually me she wanted to meet up with, it was my best mate and she'd just not done a particularly good job of pointing him out at the party (he's like a better looking, more chiseled version of me). She didn't bother trying to spare my feelings by sugar coating telling me either.
That wasn't awkward at all.
Anyway, she's dead now.0 -
Cat With No Tail wrote:Only one I can think of at the moment was after a party me and some mates had been to. The following day one of the girls we knew who'd been there came over to me and asked if I remembered her mate. I said I did (she was pretty hot) so she said her mate had asked if I'd like to meet her for a drink one night.
I agreed, we set it all up for later in the week, and off I went.
Only problem is, it wasn't actually me she wanted to meet up with, it was my best mate and she'd just not done a particularly good job of pointing him out at the party (he's like a better looking, more chiseled version of me). She didn't bother trying to spare my feelings by sugar coating telling me either.
That wasn't awkward at all.
Anyway, she's dead now.
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A few years back i was set up on a blindish date, only the lady in question wasn't who i thought it originally was. Post drinks after work was the venue where i was quite well known.
I'm stitting waiting when a cross between the Joker due to trowel applied make-up and Lilly Savage walks in and steams over, she was loud, brash and laughed loudly like Barbra Windsor....Now clearly she'd had a few liveners to quell the nerves but it was one of those awkward hours where everyone else in the pub gazed over. I took the cowards way out getting my Brother to phone with a 'family emergency' She was then aptly named the terminator on account of her pestering me for weeks after for a follow-up date....0 -
Cat With No Tail wrote:Only one I can think of at the moment was after a party me and some mates had been to. The following day one of the girls we knew who'd been there came over to me and asked if I remembered her mate. I said I did (she was pretty hot) so she said her mate had asked if I'd like to meet her for a drink one night.
I agreed, we set it all up for later in the week, and off I went.
Only problem is, it wasn't actually me she wanted to meet up with, it was my best mate and she'd just not done a particularly good job of pointing him out at the party (he's like a better looking, more chiseled version of me). She didn't bother trying to spare my feelings by sugar coating telling me either.
That wasn't awkward at all.
Anyway, she's dead now.
Killing her was a bit extreme maybe? 0 -
Kowalski675 wrote:Cat With No Tail wrote:Only one I can think of at the moment was after a party me and some mates had been to. The following day one of the girls we knew who'd been there came over to me and asked if I remembered her mate. I said I did (she was pretty hot) so she said her mate had asked if I'd like to meet her for a drink one night.
I agreed, we set it all up for later in the week, and off I went.
Only problem is, it wasn't actually me she wanted to meet up with, it was my best mate and she'd just not done a particularly good job of pointing him out at the party (he's like a better looking, more chiseled version of me). She didn't bother trying to spare my feelings by sugar coating telling me either.
That wasn't awkward at all.
Anyway, she's dead now.
Killing her was a bit extreme maybe?
Clearly, you've not spent enough time round these parts... They don't struggle if they're dead.0 -
I like a "struggle snuggle" (as my last gf called it, lol) though...
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Met a nurse at a party in Glasgow and we just drank more and more - I could not keep up with her pints and so started on Dramkski (Drambuie and whisky - great idea). Anyway we ended up in her flat in the nursing home (student nurses home) - my friend Jo having followed a similar path with a nurse from the same flat. My belle du soir made a point of removing an engagement ring and then removing a large poster of the Pope from above her bed and turning it to face the wall. Well by now I was very drunk and you know when you can tell that you are about to be sick. I don't know what proportion of my nausea was related to booze and what was related to trying to get my head up her lubricated and fragrant minge - a first for me. Anyway acting casual (presumably not perceived quite that cool by my co-respondant though). I went to the bog closed the door could not find the light switch or anything whilst doing a 360 deg vomit hose in the girls bathroom. I did find the light switch and concluded that '...they might not notice..' but I did take the trouble to use one of the four toothbrushes to freshen up for the next bout of romance. ..Which of course did not happen because I was so drunk that I passed out and slept the sleep of the dead.
...Only to be awoken a couple of hours later by being punched in the head by the other two nurses in the flat who had returned from their commando training evening or whatever it was that whetted their level of violence only to discover the state of the bog/ toothbrush.
The unfairness of this is that is that I'm pretty certain that student nurses flats are hardly different and that my little liquid intervention was only marginal in terms of reducing its bijou. So later on I left with promises to se her again and left her with Jo's contact details so that I did not meet her again. Leaving the flat I waited at the bus stop and as I was checking to see if I needed a shave I noticed the sight and smell of a hand that had been immersed in something very nasty and bloody and on finger smelt of Shyt. Simultaneously the bus came, I honked all over the pavement. the driver cursed me and drove off and the people at the bus stop beat the shyt out of me for missing it. Although this was the end of my Friday night out rather unfortunately it did have unexpected consequences which caused me a fall out with mum and dad, going into hiding and nearly missing my final exams....and may well account for my subsequent bad behaviour with ladies. But that is for another day as I say reflecting on the fact that Jo is now a leading light in his profession in Glasgow and a very respected person indeed....take your pickelf on your holibobs....
jeez :roll:0 -
Ha brilliant.0
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Lacking the storytelling talent to deliver this story in the style of a Fishfish, I will reduce it to bullet points
1) Get off with drunk girl in nightclub
2) Her mate pulls her off me and starts going on about how disgusting it was
3) I say WTF, bit ****ing rude!
4) Mate says "No, I mean she finished throwing up about 2 minutes ago,she's probably still got bits in her mouth"
5) More drinksUncompromising extremist0 -
Northwind wrote:Lacking the storytelling talent to deliver this story in the style of a Fishfish, I will reduce it to bullet points
1) Get off with drunk girl in nightclub
2) Her mate pulls her off me and starts going on about how disgusting it was
3) I say WTF, bit ****ing rude!
4) Mate says "No, I mean she finished throwing up about 2 minutes ago,she's probably still got bits in her mouth"
5) More drinks
Allow me Sir.
It was terrible really - I never have my vodka martini shaken - yet the trouble with a small private jet is that in low altitudes as you approach Acapulco is the bumps - so I rested it between the waitresses breasts - which had the pneumatic character of a Fox Vanilla and also did interesting thing too. As I found out when we drove to the Kapinski - the Presidential Suite of course - and her younger sister - of course. Later on and coated with expensive unctions and embalmed in Krug - mainly the 68 that would be and for those who don't know that is 1868 - a coincidental number as it is the square root of its price. The nightclub in the Kapinski hold promise - promise of the prospect of realising the charms of some of the most beautiful women in the world - or 25 years of jail, torture, and the attention of an aids, rabid, massively membered gay former paratrooper should you not quite detect that the object of your attention was only 12. However having done this calibration earlier in my suite I chanced upon an Angel. One of such beauty and presence as to transcend the Madonna into a girl of Essex - Harlow even. Sheer magnetism drew me to her and I suppose for her the bulge in my trousers which being comprised of a wallet and a Halfords (is that the same as Harrods?) mini pump. Our eyes met and our fluids frothed and our thought were impossible to print here. Her voice like silk, her lips - ruby, throbbing with anticipation in synchronisation with my mini pump announced - 'My name is Ivanna' and I replied whatever you vanna I can provide and my name is Northwind because I am a zephyr - as transient and as epherial as the northern lights. Her friend - called Agnes - from Motherwell prevented her faint from depositing her on the floor as I ordered a magnum (champagne ffs - not an ice cream) and she, drawing upon the benefits of what might have been a doctoral education at Cambridge in Philosophy postulated on my name - ' Northwind - I thought you came from Bury and farted a lot.' Whilst being true was a diversion from a fat scotch lowlander and frankly lowlifer distracting me from my sylphlike fantasy cradled in her ample and diseased form. Like Prince Charming I bent to awaken her from this reverie with a gentle kiss on her rosebud lips (no - the ones adjacent to the nosemoron)- where maybe she dreamed of a life of pure love in a garden of flowers and honey. 'Don't do that pal' grated my ugly squat confessor - 'Fishfish has been snogging her and threw up in her mouth - but you can kiss me if you want - I only gave him a blowjob'. I accepted a glass from the magnum (no it is not a forking ice cream tw@) and left.
I think that is what happened....take your pickelf on your holibobs....
jeez :roll:0 -
From Harlow eh. Never good0
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remind me - is it brentwood or southend that you are from - bearing in mind the connotation of 'bent wood' or 'south end' ffs. I'm from Harlow and can't think that there is nothing but pride in that little corner of heaven on earth. ...well apart from nuking the tw@ that is....take your pickelf on your holibobs....
jeez :roll:0 -
Huh? Must be someone else you're thinking of. I'm from Stortford! Only a stones throw away. Luckily for us, not literally a stones throw away.0
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I'm sure there is a bit more material to add here now "I spent most of my money on birds, booze and fast cars: the rest of it I just squandered." [George Best]0
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Well ask and ye shall get. Quite topical too, given the football
Many years ago I was courting a young lady from one of England finest seaside resorts.
We were talking about our bucket lists, things we simply had to do before we died (just generally, I wasn't conducting a hostage situation). I told her that I wanted to see the northern lights.
Her reply was "they're not that great, you know?"
I asked her, "you've seen them then?"
To which she replied....."yes, every year, you forget I grew up in Blackpool"0
