Time for a competition, ladies and gents. This is your chance to win an autographed copy of ‘The Great Right Hope‘, published by LL-Publications and also available on Amazon.
This competition is based on the wickedness of alcohol. We all like a drink, from time to time, don’t we? Now and then, there’s nothing wrong with a couple over the recommended daily intake as preached to us by TV heart-throb, debonair superstud, Dr. Hilary Jones. Please enjoy the following tribute to the grandmother’s favourite, in the form of a small, shit collage.
Before continuing, however, I need to contradict my previous statement and warn you of the dangers of alcohol, as preached to us by TV heart-throb, debonair superstud, Dr. Hilary Jones.
That’s actually quite sad. He should be sporting a moustache indicitive of “Bad Hasslehoff.” Not nice at all.
This competition coincides with the release of the paperback version of my debut novel, The Great Right Hope. Other good news to prompt this generosity is that TGRH has turned into LL-Publications best-selling book of all time! Check out LL’s blog for details.
There is a lot of boozing in TGRH, possibly more than any other book in creation, with exception to Jimmy White’s biography. To show you how much boozing there is, here are some interesting book stats for you:
The word “beer” is used: 78 times.
The word “ale” is used: 141 times.
The word “drunk” is used 62 times.
…and the word “wine” is used 0 times. That’s right, ladies. This is a man’s book. Take your emotions and your voyages of discovery elsewhere. This is for rootin’-tootin’ bloody blokes, who like to kick back and chew the fat over subjects devoid of emotions, except rage. Saying that, this would make a wonderful gift for a husband, brother or father, and even though I just said that men are devoid of emotions, that was a lie, and they’d love you forever if you bought a copy of The Great Right Hope for them to cherish.
Back to the competition: Boozing has given me some of the funniest moments of my shortened life. I have had some great adventures with my friends, and we have seen some hilarious acts performed by equally drunken, but more idiotic people. It’s great to sit by the fireside and reminisce with friends about the time ”xyz” stole a midget’s bike; knocked themselves out by heading a frozen chicken; threw up on a girl they were snogging; needed a dump on a night out so squatted down in a field, pissed in their trousers by accident, and, in panic, slipped and landed in their own faeces; had a Xmas eve punch-up with two guys dressed as cartoon characters; had a shoe duel; drank four pots of chili sauce and a pot of garlic sauce; partaken in tramp bukakke.
Someone has put a great compilation video together on YouTube of drunken idiots. The potential drunk driver (innocent until proven guilty) at the end makes me laugh every time I see it!
So how do you win the prize? Well it is quite simple, my friend. I want to hear your drunken stories. The funniest drunken story will win anautographed copy of The Great Right Hope! Closing date is at the end of the month (Aug ’09). Either pop your story at the bottom of the comments, or drop me an email at jackhammer@mark-jackman.com. I’ll publish the winning entry as a separate blog, next month. Please no names, and if you just want to comment with some drunken banter then it’s all the same to me!
So come on guys and gals, let’s hear of some drunken adventures!
Good luck!
Jacko
www.mark-jackman.com
p.s. I don’t anyone who has partaken in tramp bukakke.
Oh Mr Jackman. We’ve indulged in some monumentous drunken hilarity over the years eh?
Going back to our Prime, the period of of your Wing Chun instruction throws up images of Telly Savalas Kungfu, fuelled by Scrumpy jack, which got the ball rolling on a lot of things. In a way I and Scrumpy Jack feel somewhat responsible for the way you’ve turned out..
Anyway, one of THE funniest memories I have and will EVER have, is the weekend that me, the dwarf and Steven Charles visited you in Loughborough and a ‘quiet friday session’ as always got a tad carried away and ended up with us deciding that jumping face first into bushes was a great idea, which it was until I jumped into a section of bush that wasn’t there and ended up breaking a rib in the process.. This was funny enough, until SCW decided to throw his own shoes (despite him blaming you) into another bush as we all rolled around in the road, drunk out of our skulls and pissing ourselves laughing at him, while he mumbled obsceneties.
I have that event on video and MUST one day load it up to youtube.
Was that the weekend a drunken Peelo somehow spilled a glass of milk up the stairs, through a closed door, round a 90 degree corner and into a zipped up offshore bag (MINE)?? I know she’s got a PHD but that’s just clever!
Happy days , all thanks to booze!
I once had a few too many sherries and tinkled a little on the toilet seat.
I cleaned it up though.
Dredge, pick the toilet seat up you unsociable bastard.
Dave, that was a weekend and a half, that one. So many happy memories that I wish I could remember.
My mum recently told me she briefly dated Dr Hilary Jones when she was training to be a nurse many moons ago. Had he not been an allegedly lecherous git they might have stayed together and he could have been my dad… urgh lucky escape! Maybe she was drunk at the time??
And clean up the toilet seat. That’s just nasty!
NO WAY!!!!
Emma, we need details (within decency)!
For my American Chums, Dr. Hilary Jones is a TV doctor, famed for his hunkish looks and it is impossible for a British woman to go through the menopause without finding him irresistable. It is a medical fact.
This is why:
WOW!
Kudos to your mum, Emma. Kudos. I hope she likes my shit collage.
and if you read the ‘flow chart’ self diagnosis page of doctor gorgeous in the sunday papers, they inevitably lead to a diagnosis that ‘you have cancer’.. I kid you not!
Enjoyed the video and the song Jacko, good stuff.
Few stories I could share, but I’ll start with two about a friend from old times – Greeny.
First one would be the night you were up Jacko. After a fairly heavy session (Boro?), Greeny decided to get dropped off back in our village where he’d left his car, and drive the 6 miles or so home. No probs, we left him to it and walked up the road to bed. As we were merrily trying to take a piss on the little green, who should some tearing towards us in his work’s van, but Greeny trying to run us over! Fortunately for us a small green park bench was in the way, and he ran into that, buckling his front axle and deflating his front tyres. Unpeturbed, the lad tries to drive home, but only makes it 3 or so miles before he starts running on steel rims! Only one thing to do in that situation…ring the ex-girlfriend at 4am, make her drive to you, make her try and inflate the tyres, then when all fails, get her to tow you home. A fine example of a man.
Second bit would be him in Scarborough, where he decided to strip off in the lap dancing club toilet and proceed to do a “routine” round the pole, before legging it from the bouncers. Once outside and still naked, he put a bin over his top half shimmied up a drain pipe to someone’s first floor window and knocked on it til they looked out, then legged it from the cops. Despite this he still managed to pull the same night, take her back to the b&b we were sharing and convince her to stay despite four other men in the room. Sickening.
Just thought of another good one.
On a lads holiday, few of us in the bar after a night out, having a couple before bed. Another of the lads turns up at the hotel entrance with a lass who it would be fair to say was a touch on the heavy side. As he tries to get in to take her back, he gets told by hotel security guard “NO GUESTS”.
No problem, as the lads got an idea. Walks round the side of the hotel with his conquest to the 8ft high side walls, where he gives her a leg up over the top and shoves her over. What he’d forgotten in his drunkeness though was that the pool went right up to the side wall, so we got greeted in the bar by a big heffalump splash!!
IT is going to be very difficult for anyone to beat comment 8.
Laughing my tits off!
One of the funniest I’ve had was when I shat myself on a clients leaving do. I was recovering from food poisoning to be fair, and at the time I was a heavy cider drinker. after being off work for 4 days with the shits, i felt better and forced myself to go in so i didnt have to produce a doctors note and all that hassle. found out it was a leaving do as well so would be rude of not to have at least one. first one went down well – and so did the 5th! a trip to the urinals was in order, and as you do i tried to let out a sneaky fart. very very bad idea. liquid explosion. luckily no one was in the toilets, so i snuck off to the pubs only cubicle where i inspected the damage – white boxer shorts were now 50% brown, but trousers totally untouched. thinking that i cant leave a soiled pair of boxers there just in case someone from where i work used the toilet after me, and i cant poke them out the window – i lifted the cistern lid, and shoved them in there. Job done – toilet flushes – back to the bar for last pint and a quick exit….
Dirty bastard!
Being a rugby lad, I have a few boozy stories which have resulted in hilarity, but none quite as funny as some of my mates…
One guy in particular (who for the purpose of this story will be referred to as Stuart Black, from Castlefields Stafford), has a few belters! One Saturday, after a particularly heavy evening/night on the ale he had got home, stripped off and climbed into bed with his (then) missus. Their bed was positioned next to the wall (with a large window)… the window side happened to be Blackies “side of the bed”. So after climbing delicately over his missus, so as not to wake her, he lay quietly for a few minutes until a sudden need to be violently sick overwhelmed him… in the panic, Blackie got to his knees on the bed opened the window and proceeded to projectile spew out of the window. The dog, which was outside got totally covered in his vom (and started to eat it). But this was the least of his worries; during the violent contractions of puking, with his back to his lady, he had inadvertently shit all over her (being a Guinness drinker, I can only assume it looked like he had struck oil!). Despite shitting over her hair and pillow, she kept sleeping… until blackie, in his pissed wisdom tried to clean her face and hair using a brillo pad (which was the only thing he could find in the bathroom)… needless to say, they’re no longer together!
And the winner is…. DR. STIFF!
I had some great stories sent in, but I have never heard of a man crapping in his girlfriend’s face and wiping it off with a brillo pad.
Congrats, Stiffmeister, a book to you!