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May 18, 2004

BEN'S STAG DO

I spent last weekend on my brother's stag do, giving him a send-off into married life in the most drunken and debauched way possible.

The Mission:
"to induce a state of angst, inebriation and embarrassment upon the stag, culminating in loss of consciousness, memory and morals".

Friday 14th May 2004
After arrival at Heathrow, self checking-in with help, a fat burger and a couple of Guinnesses from Costa Coffee, we bundled into the plane and took our seats. An uneventful flight ensued, if you except the air steward's threat to eject the couple in front of us for talking through the safety procedures, and we met up with our minibus driver who had been booked to take us to Aberfeldy.

He didn't hang around, but then again he certainly wasn't sober, so we arrived in good time and bundled through the door. A mix-up with the booking forced some of our party to stay in the B&B a "few doors down" (which turned out to be half a mile) but this didn't deter us from getting the drinking underway without even taking our bags to our rooms.

If you like your food deep-fried then this was the place for you. We, however, didn't, but nevertheless we ate, drank, chatted, drank, played games, drank, sung, drank, and read limericks. Then drank. Everyone had written a limerick about Fin and when each one was read out, he had to guess who had written it. If he got it wrong, he drank. If he got it right, the author drank.

Daaayve's effort was, frankly, dire; Belli's was an Eleanor Rigby inspired masterpiece sung by Dids; and Cobden's was a veritable 12 verse poem. JC's role as Mr Weights & Measures was progressing nicely and, in conjunction with yours truly as a beady-eyed Chief Sneak, our fourteen-strong party rapidly got through thirty bottles of wine and God only knows how many pints.

We found a box of badges and distributed them accordingly - Allan Proud and Sandy Batty being the pick of the bunch. Jonny preached from the lecturn and the waitress barked at us not to "p!ss me off tonight laddie".

The singing was loud, raucous and out-of-hand, but fun and we were even challenged by the locals next door. We lost, but no-one cared, Cobden was too busy dancing on the tables, Daaayve (fondly known as the deaf ginger Welsh Jew) was constantly being fined for wrong-handed drinking and Howard was beginning to struggle with fatigue.

Saturday 15th May 2004
Awoken by Cobden's amazingly loud snoring, Auger soon realised he had heavy bruising and a seized knee from Cobden's table dancing. We struggled downstairs for a full English before piling into the minibus once more and heading for White Water Rafting.

After getting fully kitted out, we made for the river. Daaayve insisted upon climbing into the raft before it was on the water because "I don't want to get my shoes wet" and soon we were all standing on the edge of the raft, shifting round because we were back to front.

We did several tricks in the raft (Daaayve fell in every time), we were boarded by the rival raft of Captain Thompson and his ugly crew, and we sought to get each other very wet at every available opportunity. But soon our time was up and we were trudging up the banks of the river with the rolled up rafts on our shoulders.

After drying off, we jumped in the minibus once more and were deposited at the Hostel in Edinburgh where the management promptly took £20 off us, per person, as a bond for any broken items. We beared the manky showers and headed out for round two.

Fin was given a new item of clothing to wear every time we had a pint. A few beers later and he had a tartan hat with ginger wig, a wales t-shirt, two flags, a strap-on monkey, face paint and a mini-skirt. Accused of "not being a proper Scot", he then removed his boxers and risked exposure to the whole of Edinburgh.

Dids and The Egg claimed they were "not p!ssed enough" around 10pm, despite downing several alcopops in an attempt to beat the 3.11 second record set by The Belli and I. A quadruple vodka later and The Egg had passed out in the street before demanding the door staff "get me an ambulance"!.

Meanwhile, the Belli was enjoying chatting up the various hen-parties we encountered, the Stag was trying to prevent people slapping his arse by wielding his foam sword, and Cobden posed for a photo with a Hen party, with his knob on the Hen's shoulder!

Lap-dancing was always going to be on the cards, so we went in right at the end of the night. The dancers were a little bemused by Fin's outfit, but they were even more shocked when he fell asleep before his personal dance - barking mad if you ask me...! I decided it was about time my phony Welsh accent came out, to the delight of the lap dancers who "love the Welsh accent" and gave me a little extra attention, prompting Welsh Howard to raise both hands in the air and cry "I'M WELSH! I'M WELSH!".

We found a club, not that I really remember it, but the Stag collapsed, recovered and carried on striking people with his sword. We took a rickshaw home, gave the driver all sorts of abuse about not pedalling hard enough and hitting all the bumps, before getting back to the hovel Hostel.

Dids decided to enact a ticker-tape parade using the Hostel leaflets, Cobden kicked down doors, shouting "IT'S OK I'VE ONLY GOT MY SOCKS ON" so he wouldn't cause damage and forfeit our £280 bond, Daaayve and JC had a playfight (resulting in a fractured wrist for the latter) and Codben attacked us using "stealth" in the darkness, but was clubbed by a foam sword and a porno mag every time he got near.

Sunday 16th May 2004
The Hostel management refused to give our bond back due to "excessive noise, verbal abuse and littering", despite Daaayve's attempts to impersonate a lawyer so we left bitter, but hardly surprised.

We taxied to the airport after lunching out in the sun, despite Browny's protests at potential sunstroke. As we queued to check-in for our flight (Thommo asleep) we remarked at the good-looker that ambled by, before being glared at by her following boyfriend - none other than Noel Gallagher himself.

Injured, battered, bruised and broken, most of the team slept on the way back to Heathrow before going off home in their different directions. Personally, I took an hour to find the bus-station at the airport and had to endure the gutter snipe on the local public transport before expiring at home and taking advantage of my very well planned day off.

Thanks to Belli for all the organisation and Jonny for the cash management. Well done to Fin for surviving and thank you all for such an amusing weekend.

Next stop, THE WEDDING.....

Full Stag Do photos can be found here.

Posted by jonola14 at May 18, 2004 2:05 PM