I've been thinking lately about a few things that I've done in my past that I either am or should be ashamed of. Rather than specify, I thought I'd blog about some of them and you can decide for yourselves whether or not I am actually ashamed or secretly proud of my youthful antics, or maybe in some cases a bit of both.
The Time I Entered A Writing Competition and Won
It was the uni newspaper, and in order to win 12 bottles of Bicardi Breezers, students were invited to pen their funniest alcohol-related story. I went to a uni where student involvement was pretty lackluster, so I calculated that in order to win, the only thing you really needed to do was enter something and no matter how dire it would win by default as the only entry. The only problem was that I didn't have any funny drunk stories. This is not to say that I didn't drink - I just never did anything particularly interesting when I did. So I decided to take my dear friend's best antics over a space of several months and combine them all into one hilarious tale of brandy/vodka/beer-fuelled shenanigans. He was conveniently out of the country at the time. It was a great story, and I won my lolly water. I will reproduce the tale here, in a version that has been ok'ed by said friend:
A few months ago I went to a party and ----- punch ---- ---- special brownies. ---- brownies ---- a group of people --- Oprah had a guest the week before who---- LOVE TANKS!!!!! ----- back garden-----vodka shots ---- bathroom ---- NAKED ---- Mum and Dad ----- shrubs -----.