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....it seems like a great idea to go skinny dipping in the duckpond of St James's park after an official reception with a small group of friends leaving your clothes on the side only to be caughty by Mr Plod who forces the gentlemen to identify their clothing by their medals.... (never actually saw medal envy in action before this!)
and i did to look dashing in that policemans lovely bright yellow jacket..... and the sick added a little something.....

BBC

.....You go out with about 20 highest officers of your boss' staff after a ceremony(long story) - use the wrong toilets, accidently' moon at the passing traffic - and end up dragging one officer in a shop doorway to .... well, lets say a little more than 'mouth to mouth breathing exercises'. Except this is Central London (not the most quietest of places, and he's about 20 years older and 8 stone heavier)........ at least nobody can say I discriminate.

Not my normal activities I can tell you. Made the following meetings interesting though.

You fall into bed at about 5am, having helped yourself to a sandwich from the hotel I'M A SCAMMER SPAMMER!!! (good job I used to work there...) and wake up at half 8 to a screaming noise emanating from somewhere just above your head. Fortunately it was the builders on the floor above! Get a call from Reception at 11 to ask if you're decent cos they've got a problem with the computer systems, and you have to get dressed and go behind the reception desk in your civvy clothes to reboot the hotel's entire operating system. With a banging still going on somewhere just above your right eye, and your eyes barely open. Check out about 12, put case in car, go back into hotel, to staff toilets, throw guts up so as not to risk it happening in car, and then drive 15 miles up the motorway.
Don't ask me about the night before, I still can't remember most of it. There was a drink called a BlowJob (Actually I have a feeling there were about 7 of those), a random bloke in the Press Club that I kissed, and one of the blokes that I now used to work with whose shoulder I fell asleep on. Not so bad, except that his girlfriend was also out. And he'd told me earlier in the evening that he would have asked me out weeks ago but he thought I must be seeing someone.
But it was fun!

You know you've had a good night when your all dressed up in blue waterstained taffeta cocktail dress and have been invited onboard HMS Cardiff to the Wardroom for an official works do. Then suddenly the night passes you by and your rudely awoken by your landlady at 5 in the morning telling you that the taxi peeping there horn outside is for me. Still wearing the dress complete with pernod and blackcurrant , make up slipped from the face and the false eyelashes stuck together you gather your belongings because your going of on leave and find that you have to sit all the way on a moving train (complete with raging hangover and stains ) to Dundee next to a bunch of hairy arsed riggers, who find it highly amusing that you dressed up for the occasion. Yes you guessed i fell asleep fully clothed and just had to run or would have missed my train.

you know when your severely bladdered when your disappointed cos' the bop at lyneham close's at midnite, dont you love it when your feet stick to floor and all the women look like Claudia Schiffer...... happy days

...when still living at your parents house, bring home boyf to meet them, and decide it was a good idea to take out the main course your Mum has been slaving over for the whole day - only to tip it over the floor in front of your disgusted Dad......

.....yep boyf was pissed too, and was laughing at me at the time. Dad was in the Army.........

Yep happy days them. MyssL

When I wake up in mess kit on Saturday afternoon... this Saturday afternoon coming!!

.....when after a night out on the guinness you fall sleep on the landing of a mates house and wake up naked, next to said mate, soaking wet (sweat i presumed).......... ..........i stil haven't a clue how i got there-niether does my mate.....

A beautiful night in Malta, as a cricket, waiting for a dysau to go out to the ship. Decide f--k it, I can swim it while I'm waiting for Jose, in I go. After a while, realise it's a long swim out to the Cruiser line, start to sober up a bit, panic does that, ditch shoes and top gear concentrate on staying afloat, then along comes good old Jose, heading for another ship, with pissed up Matelots on board, gives me a tow to the Phoebe. Duty pig was a little surprised when this wreck started to clamber up his gangway,dressed in sod all but socks, took some explaining did that.



Aye Owdun.

Woke up Monday morning on the sofa wrapped up in a heap of laundry which I am informed had been folded up and was waiting to be put away!

No idea how I got home or where I was! Now that's a good night

14 pints of Tiger drunk on Changi Beach one hot and sweaty afternoon ..... driving from Changi along the Uji-kan (can’t remember how to spell that, but built by British POWs in WWII – the cambers are opposite to the norm) .... getting back to Sembawang , opening my locker, swinging on the door, disappearing inside and shutting the door behind me, pass out.

...... not one mosquito bite - who says alcohol is not beneficial ?

God, where do I start?

Possibly being caught in the male accom on the wardroom site with a lovely gent, being charged with being in an out of bounds area ('cause they couldn't prove I was drunk!!! ) and being admonished of all crime.

OR

Waking up in the ladies toilets in Gardens in Yeovil with a loo seat for a pillow

Sliding down the banisters on a friday night in a posh wine bar with the local psychic councillor in front of a load of people.

Then a couple of days later entering the Natwest bank only to be stared at by the woman behind the counter. Who informs you that she was there that night and after we had left we got a round of applause.

The whole incident was captured on camera.

you wake up in the local councilors bed

Hmmmm,

Want to tell us something?

Gore.