The "Freeola Customer Forum" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
I went out on a binge drinking session last night with some mates. Weh-hey. All was going well, we went down to the pub near college, I'd already had a couple of Strongbows. We lost around six quid on pool and on the machines. We didn't care, we were having fun. We planned to get some more pints down us, do a bit of kareoke, and move on to shots.
We'd moved into the beer garden, and after some shots of JD, I knew I was gone. I wanted to touch the grass, which turned out to be that fake stuff. Which I knew, oddly enough, 'cos I've drunk there before. My feet were no longer moving at the same speed as my eyesight, and so I had reached the stage where you'll do anything and not care. I performed a laughing version of "Why Does it Always rain On me?" on kareoke. Let me describe a laughing version for you, shall I?
I'll take that as a "Yes".
I started to sing, laughed for quite a while, sung another single line, laughed for a long time, struggled with the chorus, laughed all through the second verse, stopped singing to drink some of my pint for the third verse, struggled another chorus, and then just laughed the rest of the song. It's not surprising that only the Dj clapped, although he did do it with a really sinister face that said to me, he only clapped 'cos it's in his job description.
Back to the beverages. "Radio Ga Ga" time on kareoke. A long song, and it passed in a millisecond. A bell tolls, and I didn't even need the bartender to say "Last orders". I rushed over naturally, me and some mates all had aftershock.
I stumbled outside the pub, the last bus was getting ready to go. I was over-ruled ofcourse by people wanting some grub. My mobile rang, and it was a mate wondering if I was hanging out the next day. I kept him on the phone for twenty minutes, talking s**t naturally, as drunks do.
He's just rung now, infact, telling me I told him to go to bed with "a cheeky smile on his face". I think I died when he told me that.
Back to the story, I grabbed a taxi. Me and my friend who lives near me shared one, and the driver was Asian. I'm horrorfied to think, this morning, that I might have said something racist to him. I can't be sure. I don't think I did. I hope to God, I didn't. I'm not racist.
I get home, and chat s**t to my sister who's going out. I don't know what she must have thought that I was on, but it certainly wasn't Earth. But I know I talked about absolute rubbish to her. I had to have done.
She left and I chose to watch the entire Queen at Wembley Stadium DVD, I forced myself to make a cup of tea. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and when I finally made it, I couldn't drink. I pelted it to the back door. Got down on my knees. An involuntary wretch worked it's way out of my throat. Then... it happened. I threw up everywhere, and then kneeled in it in my new jeans. That's not too bad, you're probably thinking...
What I threw up WASN'T vomit. Much earlier that night, I had endulged in a prawn curry before going out. What came out of my mouth was a field's worth of undigested rice, complete with the odd prawn. I laughed it off and took to the freezer for an ice lolly. The time came to go to bed. I opened the back door again to let my dogs in, who had escaped when I puked up. They rushed in, and I noticed that all that rice was practically gone now. I put two and two together, and went to my bed. I closed my eyes, the walls spun around me, I passed out.
I woke up this morning with a major hangover, and a lack of self-respect.
We'd moved into the beer garden, and after some shots of JD, I knew I was gone. I wanted to touch the grass, which turned out to be that fake stuff. Which I knew, oddly enough, 'cos I've drunk there before. My feet were no longer moving at the same speed as my eyesight, and so I had reached the stage where you'll do anything and not care. I performed a laughing version of "Why Does it Always rain On me?" on kareoke. Let me describe a laughing version for you, shall I?
I'll take that as a "Yes".
I started to sing, laughed for quite a while, sung another single line, laughed for a long time, struggled with the chorus, laughed all through the second verse, stopped singing to drink some of my pint for the third verse, struggled another chorus, and then just laughed the rest of the song. It's not surprising that only the Dj clapped, although he did do it with a really sinister face that said to me, he only clapped 'cos it's in his job description.
Back to the beverages. "Radio Ga Ga" time on kareoke. A long song, and it passed in a millisecond. A bell tolls, and I didn't even need the bartender to say "Last orders". I rushed over naturally, me and some mates all had aftershock.
I stumbled outside the pub, the last bus was getting ready to go. I was over-ruled ofcourse by people wanting some grub. My mobile rang, and it was a mate wondering if I was hanging out the next day. I kept him on the phone for twenty minutes, talking s**t naturally, as drunks do.
He's just rung now, infact, telling me I told him to go to bed with "a cheeky smile on his face". I think I died when he told me that.
Back to the story, I grabbed a taxi. Me and my friend who lives near me shared one, and the driver was Asian. I'm horrorfied to think, this morning, that I might have said something racist to him. I can't be sure. I don't think I did. I hope to God, I didn't. I'm not racist.
I get home, and chat s**t to my sister who's going out. I don't know what she must have thought that I was on, but it certainly wasn't Earth. But I know I talked about absolute rubbish to her. I had to have done.
She left and I chose to watch the entire Queen at Wembley Stadium DVD, I forced myself to make a cup of tea. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and when I finally made it, I couldn't drink. I pelted it to the back door. Got down on my knees. An involuntary wretch worked it's way out of my throat. Then... it happened. I threw up everywhere, and then kneeled in it in my new jeans. That's not too bad, you're probably thinking...
What I threw up WASN'T vomit. Much earlier that night, I had endulged in a prawn curry before going out. What came out of my mouth was a field's worth of undigested rice, complete with the odd prawn. I laughed it off and took to the freezer for an ice lolly. The time came to go to bed. I opened the back door again to let my dogs in, who had escaped when I puked up. They rushed in, and I noticed that all that rice was practically gone now. I put two and two together, and went to my bed. I closed my eyes, the walls spun around me, I passed out.
I woke up this morning with a major hangover, and a lack of self-respect.
Page:
I feel sorry for your dogs but at least you didn't have to clean much up in the morning.
Oh god, im weeping for the dogs.
Cider is nasty but a curry with Cider of course you are going to be ill.
You got drunk on cider?! Ahahahaha.
Poor dogs as well.
Poor dogs as well.
I went out on a binge drinking session last night with some mates. Weh-hey. All was going well, we went down to the pub near college, I'd already had a couple of Strongbows. We lost around six quid on pool and on the machines. We didn't care, we were having fun. We planned to get some more pints down us, do a bit of kareoke, and move on to shots.
We'd moved into the beer garden, and after some shots of JD, I knew I was gone. I wanted to touch the grass, which turned out to be that fake stuff. Which I knew, oddly enough, 'cos I've drunk there before. My feet were no longer moving at the same speed as my eyesight, and so I had reached the stage where you'll do anything and not care. I performed a laughing version of "Why Does it Always rain On me?" on kareoke. Let me describe a laughing version for you, shall I?
I'll take that as a "Yes".
I started to sing, laughed for quite a while, sung another single line, laughed for a long time, struggled with the chorus, laughed all through the second verse, stopped singing to drink some of my pint for the third verse, struggled another chorus, and then just laughed the rest of the song. It's not surprising that only the Dj clapped, although he did do it with a really sinister face that said to me, he only clapped 'cos it's in his job description.
Back to the beverages. "Radio Ga Ga" time on kareoke. A long song, and it passed in a millisecond. A bell tolls, and I didn't even need the bartender to say "Last orders". I rushed over naturally, me and some mates all had aftershock.
I stumbled outside the pub, the last bus was getting ready to go. I was over-ruled ofcourse by people wanting some grub. My mobile rang, and it was a mate wondering if I was hanging out the next day. I kept him on the phone for twenty minutes, talking s**t naturally, as drunks do.
He's just rung now, infact, telling me I told him to go to bed with "a cheeky smile on his face". I think I died when he told me that.
Back to the story, I grabbed a taxi. Me and my friend who lives near me shared one, and the driver was Asian. I'm horrorfied to think, this morning, that I might have said something racist to him. I can't be sure. I don't think I did. I hope to God, I didn't. I'm not racist.
I get home, and chat s**t to my sister who's going out. I don't know what she must have thought that I was on, but it certainly wasn't Earth. But I know I talked about absolute rubbish to her. I had to have done.
She left and I chose to watch the entire Queen at Wembley Stadium DVD, I forced myself to make a cup of tea. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and when I finally made it, I couldn't drink. I pelted it to the back door. Got down on my knees. An involuntary wretch worked it's way out of my throat. Then... it happened. I threw up everywhere, and then kneeled in it in my new jeans. That's not too bad, you're probably thinking...
What I threw up WASN'T vomit. Much earlier that night, I had endulged in a prawn curry before going out. What came out of my mouth was a field's worth of undigested rice, complete with the odd prawn. I laughed it off and took to the freezer for an ice lolly. The time came to go to bed. I opened the back door again to let my dogs in, who had escaped when I puked up. They rushed in, and I noticed that all that rice was practically gone now. I put two and two together, and went to my bed. I closed my eyes, the walls spun around me, I passed out.
I woke up this morning with a major hangover, and a lack of self-respect.
We'd moved into the beer garden, and after some shots of JD, I knew I was gone. I wanted to touch the grass, which turned out to be that fake stuff. Which I knew, oddly enough, 'cos I've drunk there before. My feet were no longer moving at the same speed as my eyesight, and so I had reached the stage where you'll do anything and not care. I performed a laughing version of "Why Does it Always rain On me?" on kareoke. Let me describe a laughing version for you, shall I?
I'll take that as a "Yes".
I started to sing, laughed for quite a while, sung another single line, laughed for a long time, struggled with the chorus, laughed all through the second verse, stopped singing to drink some of my pint for the third verse, struggled another chorus, and then just laughed the rest of the song. It's not surprising that only the Dj clapped, although he did do it with a really sinister face that said to me, he only clapped 'cos it's in his job description.
Back to the beverages. "Radio Ga Ga" time on kareoke. A long song, and it passed in a millisecond. A bell tolls, and I didn't even need the bartender to say "Last orders". I rushed over naturally, me and some mates all had aftershock.
I stumbled outside the pub, the last bus was getting ready to go. I was over-ruled ofcourse by people wanting some grub. My mobile rang, and it was a mate wondering if I was hanging out the next day. I kept him on the phone for twenty minutes, talking s**t naturally, as drunks do.
He's just rung now, infact, telling me I told him to go to bed with "a cheeky smile on his face". I think I died when he told me that.
Back to the story, I grabbed a taxi. Me and my friend who lives near me shared one, and the driver was Asian. I'm horrorfied to think, this morning, that I might have said something racist to him. I can't be sure. I don't think I did. I hope to God, I didn't. I'm not racist.
I get home, and chat s**t to my sister who's going out. I don't know what she must have thought that I was on, but it certainly wasn't Earth. But I know I talked about absolute rubbish to her. I had to have done.
She left and I chose to watch the entire Queen at Wembley Stadium DVD, I forced myself to make a cup of tea. It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and when I finally made it, I couldn't drink. I pelted it to the back door. Got down on my knees. An involuntary wretch worked it's way out of my throat. Then... it happened. I threw up everywhere, and then kneeled in it in my new jeans. That's not too bad, you're probably thinking...
What I threw up WASN'T vomit. Much earlier that night, I had endulged in a prawn curry before going out. What came out of my mouth was a field's worth of undigested rice, complete with the odd prawn. I laughed it off and took to the freezer for an ice lolly. The time came to go to bed. I opened the back door again to let my dogs in, who had escaped when I puked up. They rushed in, and I noticed that all that rice was practically gone now. I put two and two together, and went to my bed. I closed my eyes, the walls spun around me, I passed out.
I woke up this morning with a major hangover, and a lack of self-respect.
Page: