Champagne In Coffee Mugs: Post 469

Remember that time I woke up after a night out on the sofa with a cheeseburger under my ass? No of course you don't, because I wrote about that in 2005 and nobody who read my blog back then reads it now (in fact, I don't think anyone reads it now). But it happened. See? Well I had something of a revival of this incident about a month ago. It was a chilly night in early Spring, my flatmate had had buggered off to Azerbaijan for two weeks, leaving me in the house on my own. My girlfriend (at the time, now ex) had come over to stay for a few nights, and on the Saturday she had invited a friend over for a few drinks. Between the hours of about 8 and 1, the two of them sat on the two seater sofa chatting about shoes, haircuts, make-up and other girly stuff that I have little to no interest in. Since they also had the remote control for the telly, I did all I could think of to do to keep myself entertained: I sat in the corner with a case of Heineken playing Words With Friends and quietly got absolutely fucking steaming. Eventually, once I was drunk enough, I actually did join in the conversation (which thankfully had moved on from shoes, haircuts and make-up) and partook in several rounds of extremely large shots, an activity which undoubtedly led to me doing my usual party trick and passing out on the sofa. I must have slumbered for a good hour or so before waking up and immediately recognising that something was very wrong. My crotch and my buttcheeks were cold and wet. Very very wet. Oh dear. The first thing that sprang into my mind was the obvious - that I'd been so drunk I'd fallen asleep and pissed myself. I'd never done it before, but there's a first time for everything, right? Slyly opening one eye to make sure no-one was watching (they weren't) I stuck my hand in the puddle that was formed around my crotch and ass and gave it a good hard sniff. Didn't smell like piss..... didn't taste like piss...... (joke)...... sitting up and opening my eyes I realised my error. I'd fallen asleep lying flat out on the sofa holding a full bottle of Heineken, which I'd then dropped and spilled all over my crotch, and it had pooled under my now sopping wet arse. Unfortunate and uncomfortable, and I had to go upstairs and strip the whole lot off and clamber into bed starkers. Still, Heineken is better than piss I suppose (unless you're a real ale drinker).

This was not the first time my rear end had made an appearance this evening, and the first occurrence was on a rather more spectacular stage. During the evening we'd been flicking through the music channels and somehow ended up at Starz TV, one of those poxy MTV style channels that plays tracks you've never heard of while assorted loser's illegible texts are shown at the bottom of the screen in a sort of "chat room" idea. ("OMG u r so fit howz u darlin, a/s/l" etc.) This particular channel has a facility where you can text in a photo of your face and get it on the telly - 30 seconds of "fame" for only one shiny pound. Having had previous in this sort of thing (although I can't find the "Elwood - Chav Hard Man Seeks Loving" video online - ask Bob) it wasn't long before I sent in a couple of wacky snaps of myself to see if I could get my gorgeous face on the telly. I managed as well. Look. There's an epically drunk me on TV with Jessie J. (click for full size)

Of course that wasn't enough for me though. A few girls had text in "racy" snaps of themselves in suggestive poses wearing not many clothes, and on one or two there was even a teeny peek of nipple. Nothing too gratuitous, just a little blink-and-you'll-miss-it nip-slip. Which got me to wondering, do they actually vet these photos before allowing them to be broadcast? Only one way to find out: send in something totally inappropriate and see if it gets past the censors. So I did. And It did.
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