Originally Posted by Hondo333
I have no idea... I wasnt mine
The milder ones are far less likely to send you to hell and back
Erm, beware all, i've just remembered about a wayward drinking incident with two russians from a few months back.
Ok, so imagine a great big fat twinkling-eyed man with a stomach as wide as his home country of Uzbekistan. He's moved around a lot.
My day starts turning beery at around twelve, as everyone at my language school is enjoying a sunny barbeque to celebrate the end of "term". My man-mountain "russian" (i.e. ex USSR) is happily buying me and everyone enough beer to drown an out of shape pig. A champagne bottle freakishly explodes as a teacher-mate is just holding it in his hand, and he goes off to hospital with a nasty gash in his arm.
I get persuaded to toddle off with man-mountain, his insane son, and a pair of japanese women, one of whom is called Mami (man i thought her name was "Mumi" for two days and was trying not to crease everytime i said it
) Russian boy is well into Mami. She likes the fairly full-on "romantic" attention.
We end up at a greek restaurant miles away. Man-mountain likes the area for all its dodgy characters that form the bent-backbone of this outwardly upstanding area (i.e. he loves chatting scams with all the backroom boys of every operation round there). He's got the greek white wine flowing, but just as a taster+pallet-cleanser for the vodka that's now coming out. (He asks for a specific temperature, but that just gets amused smiles from each waiter)
Man i've no idea HOW many we got through. (all i know is that that man was about three times my width. Just being as equally stable as him by the end was medal enough for stupid-embibing
)
His son gets increasingly rowdy and fond of Mami (who's now not appreciating it - but is dealing with it more or less). When i tell him to chill out a bit, and stop swearing at the waitress, he talks gleefully of how he's seen a bloke blow himself up while checking if his grenade was working, during duty in Chechnia (or something - could have been manouvers somewhere). I have to talk/face him down, and placate an angry mother-restaurant-owner. Daddy tells me melanchollaly about how Stalin's reign made him leave his homeland. And how his father had a useful twinkle in the eye/way with people - and how he'd always tried to be that way (he said, twinkly eyed, later trying to broach the subject of some id-scam he seemed to want help with. I suspected there'd be something - i was just there coz he was an interesting bloke [and i didn't feel that guilty accepting all the expansive treatment
]). Younger jap toddles off.
We head off to a pub. I'm quite enjoying learning more about my barrel-shaped companion (who has his endearing side, despite his dodginess). More beers and vodkas ensure we baffle the residents of the pool room (mainly coz the fellas played a game that involved sinking the white in obscure ways. I felt glad my student had the ballast upfront to prop himself up as he took his shots
He was now thoughly pissed off with his kid too, and fairly liable to take a swipe at him)
Mami finally decides one forceful fondle too much has gone by. I drink a bit more with the nutty boys, have to talk down pissed-off piss-head son again, and totter off with them to get in and out of a taxis (when it's clear they don't know where they're going for more beers - i've decided 11 hours is enough anyway - especially of being in the company of the kid)
I get swept home by the tube....and then very very stupidly smoke a big strong spliff, realise that was very dumb, and throw up copiously (i seem to be keeping a two year gap on average between voming incidents. Is that impressive?
)
And the moral is...
Beware of mixing your chemicals (or with belicose Uzbekistanis
)
I suppose i could settle on the mild if highly foolish act of taking a car out on acid once - and i'm quite sure we were doing the classic "slow down man, slow down" thing, while going about 3 miles an hour. Fortunately we were out in the leafy edges of london and not a car did we see. [Other wise we'd have probably blocked it off in a friendly way, waved at the passengers, decided they were from Peru and were here to rasp their hands on plastic door handles, and then decide they were actually human dragonflies when they started swarming round the car. That'd be about right]
A policeman freaked us out by rushing passed our car, on a bike! (and not even a mountainbike- an old school sit-up one - we laughed our cynical london laughs for ages - especially coz we jumped 
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