The Four Stages of Moggy “Drunk”

May 03

MoggyDrunken Behaviour, Me, Night out No Comments

1. Getting there…

Description: Reached after a few pints, one starts to become tipsy.

Common Occurrences: Walking in a straight line becomes difficult, and you think you are awesome at dancing.

Usually results in: Your voice levels going up in volume. More drinks are purchased.

2. Standard.

Description: The standard drunk phrase. Fairly common.

Common Occurrences: Frequent trips to the toilet. Staring at good looking females, followed by shouting loudly at your mates about her. You stupidly take part in karaoke or open mic events.

Usually results in: Thinking you are still at the “Getting there…” stage, so you carry on drinking. Promising situations with available females… often could well be promising that night… though unlikely once moved onto the “Stupid and Insulting” stage.

3. Stupid and Insulting.

Description: Beyond the standard levels of getting drunk,

Common Occurrences: People leave your conversations. You think you are awesome. A few people say “you need to go home, mate”. Stereotypically insult all gingers, females, fat people, short people and foreign people in the area.

Usually results in: Stealing things. Being told to “get lost”. Getting slapped by a fat girl. Falling over (a lot) on your way home. Waking up with bruises. The ability to make sensible decisions is compromised.

4. Royally Fucked.

Description: That extra step further that makes you the laughing stock in the morning…

Common Occurrences: Rarely able to even hold a drink without spilling it. Words so slurred you can’t even speak. Unable to use keys (that is, of course, if you can even remember the way home). Starting to talk to inanimate objects. Claim to not know people you really know well.

Usually results in: All of previous mentioned above. Vomiting. Getting thrown out (or even not being let in) of bars/clubs. Remembering absolutely nothing of your journey home. Being told of the people you insulted, things you stole, and things you broke from the night before… feel bad for the following week. A monstrous hangover.

Inspired by ‘The Tucker Max Drunk Scale‘.

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    My first experience at Jesters nightclub, Southampton…

    Jan 22

    MoggyDrunken Behaviour, Me, Night out 4 Comments

    Jester’s, a nightclub in Southampton, is categorically the worst club I have ever been to. It was once voted second worst in the country in a survey – where the winning club subsequently burnt down.

    For the whole of my first term at university, I somehow managed to avoid going at all – opting either for Sobar, a relatively better club just a few doors down, or just not at all. Turns out this coincidental fate may have dramatically ramped up my life expectancy – as anyone who ventures into Jesters will probably come out a lot worse off than they did when they entered.

    It was, however, time for me to visit. Having pre-drank a fair bit, I felt like I could make a good, unbiased opinion of the place. First off, I was ripped of a £4 entry fee. Fuck! I could go pretty much anywhere else in Southampton for cheaper.

    As you take the staircase down into what seems like a large open-plan living room, you are left to ask the question ‘where exactly are the fire exits?’ and think ‘ohh this is a lovely fresh smell!’.

    This is awesome – the bar staff at Jesters actually wear wellington boots. Perhaps this is because of the layer of quagmire that carpets the dancefloor; a mix of spilt drinks, piss, vomit and sweat. I don’t think I have ever seen such a gross layer on the floor. I feared falling over that night, and I also felt pretty sorry for the shoes I was wearing.

    At the bar, you can order a jesticle for a further £4. This is a speciality cocktail that tastes alright, actually. I don’t know the actual recipe, but as I understand it, there’s shots of vodka, malibu and rum, topped with fruit juice. This may indeed sound nice, but on the second jesticle I had, it tasted very different – so much so that I believe it’s just a case of shove-whatever-in-the-glass and hope it tastes alright.

    It was then my turn to go to the toilet. Fuck my life. As I walk into the gents, I am greeted with the vision of some tosser pissing in the sink, a guy at the urinal, and a guy next to him peeing ON HIS LEG, adding to what was a rather glorious pool of piss, water and beer on the floor.

    The place was disgusting, however I did manage to have a good night nevertheless. This involved getting very drunk, laughing at all my friends, becoming abusive to people I didn’t know, making some new friends, loosing a lens from my glasses (thought about picking it up from the floor if I could find it, but then not doing so in fear of catching a disease from the floor), and walking home partially blind, whilst exceptionally drunk. Ladies and gentlemen, that, was my first Jester’s experience.

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