Better, faster, drunker. The eyes have it!

Pouring hard liquor directly into your eyeballs.  Now why in the fuck didn't I ever think of that?  (Stranger still, why didn't Laura Hall ever think of that?)

Eyeball drinking.  

No...no...not like this. 

Like This!!!

The new craze amongst British university students is taking straight shots of Vodka through the eye for a faster high.  The article says that this drunken fuckery started here in the U.S., but I just checked with my daughter, Ms. Funeral Guy, and she's never heard of it.  And she goes to one of the premier hippie party schools in the crumbling State of California.  I suspected as much.  The students at my daughters school might smoke reefer by sticking a bong up their butts on 4/20, but even they're savvy enough not to put burning alcohol into their eyes.  Plus, I don't think the UK needs to look to America for innovations on how to better attain inebriated oblivion.  It's one of the few things they're good at.

Just what British gals need...

a faster way to get like this. 

Like the junkie on Intervention that shoots up in his jugular vein, these bonehead Brits are starting to find that their delivery system of choice can be problematic.  Why, some of these folks are beginning to develop eye problems.  EYE PROBLEMS!!??  Guess they never saw that coming.  Tee hee, get it?
 

Melissa Fontaine.  

Not only stupid enough to guzzle booze through her cornea,

but dim enough to admit it in a 
newspaper with her photo attached. 

Case in point.  Melissa Fontaine, whose fancy upbringing, proper manner and university degree belie the fact that she is a stupid sheep who would go along with such obviously moronic behavior, now has a permanently sore and seeping eyeball.  One would think that might hinder her chances in the romance department as well.  If I ran into a comely lass whose one eye was constantly discharging some kind of goop, I might also wonder if there may possibly be a hygiene problem down in her nether parts as well.

But, not to worry much.  Like all fads, this too shall pass.  When graduation time finally arrives and the search for employment begins, the highly educated ladettes can all find work as........

Pirate Wenches.

The Nanny State vs The State of Inebriation.

My absolute favorite picture in the genre of drunk chick behavior. 

Thirty years ago Laura Hall, 20, would have been my dream girl.  Young, cute and a total fucking lush.

 Laura Hall.  Good time party girl.

Is that a crime? 

This story should put Laura in the All Time Top 10 of Drunk British Chicks but it is infuriatingly lacking in details.  We have the fact that Laura's been slapped with an Asbo for being a blotto bimbo.  We talked about Asbo's here.  Basically, an Asbo (Anti-social behavior order) is a civil order to stop acting like a yob or a slatternly laddete.  (It's a Brit thing.)  You're not exactly a criminal, but you're far from a model citizen.  It's kind of like being grounded.  Only by the state instead of your parents.

So Laura violates the Asbo for continuing to be chronically crocked.  The next step?  A DBO.  This is a Drinking Banning Order and it means just what it says.  YOU MAY NO LONGER BUY LIQUOR OR ENTER AN ESTABLISHMENT THAT SERVES LIQUOR.  WE, THE GOVERNMENT, HAVE SPOKEN.

What makes Laura the Grand Mistress of Stew Bums is that her DBO extends to all of Britain and Wales.  That is a first.  Bitch has to hop a ferry to Ireland to get her drink on.  All this and she's not even 21.  Although I think the legal drinking age in Britain is 11.  (Lexxie, check that one for me, will ya?  That's a girl.)

This is the nanny state bullshit that Britain is becoming known for.  The police are fucking worthless when it comes to dealing with real crime so they spend their time hassling the citizenry over petty little shit.  No wonder the people drink themselves to the point where the whole country should be in some kind of fucking rehab.

Now I'm not saying that Laura isn't an extremely annoying, slutty little whiskey sponge.   Like I said, it's impossible to tell from the story just what exactly are the specific behaviors that got her banned from every pub and liquor selling establishment in the country.   How bad do you have to be to be the one degenerate rummy singled out in an island nation overflowing with them?  Was she puking on folks in the public house?  (Eeeeuuuuwww!)  Or drunkenly screwing strangers on park benches?  (Haaaaawt!!)  Whatever.  If she's committing crimes throw her in the chokey and sentence her to some kind of program.  If she's just a garden variety souse, then let her have at it until she decides to get help or dies of cirrhosis.   Don't throw some stupid unenforceable ban on the woman, pat yourself on the back and say, "Well that's that, then.  Job well done."

This brings to mind a time in the 80's when your humble narrator was bum-rushed from a local Irish bar in Burbank for being too shit-faced on St. Patrick's Day.  St. Patrick's Day, for god's sake!  Have I ever mentioned I'm of Irish heritage?  This was a moment of clarity that eventually brought me around to sobriety.

So just one thought for Laura.  Honey, you're only 20.  You don't want to be a doughy, bleary-eyed barfly at 35, do you?   Hopefully your moment of clarity will come sooner than mine did.  Believe me, it'll save you a whole world of grief.

England swings like a pendulum do...

Shit happens in Britain that for whatever reason wouldn't happen anyhere else.  Cases in point.

Brit sex still allowed... just don't enjoy it too much.

Do you know what an Asbo is?  I didn't either.  And no, it's not some yob slang for asshole.  It stands for Anti-social behavior order.  This is something that is issued in Britain for things that are not really worthy of a real arrest but they want you to cease and desist from being...well...I guess, an asshole.

Caroline Cartwright, 49, has been issued an Asbo.  What kind of anti-social behavior was she guilty of you ask?  Keying cars?  Pushing around old ladies?  Not separating her paper from her plastics?  No...when Caroline has fucky time with her husband, Steve, the moans and groans, shrieks, squeaks and squeals combined with the banging of the bed causes major disturbance to the neighbors.  That is some world class coitus.

I, and most people if they're being honest, would admit that the sound of a couple getting their freak on is kinda arousing.  On the other hand, I don't necessarily want to spend 24 hours a day listening to it.  (First of all, I need my sleep.  Secondly, I'm old and after a time the jealousy factor would kick in.)

I can only gather that the sound of the Cartwrights banging, boning and boinking must be like a herd of fornicating, feral felines since this has reached the point where Caroline has been arrested for violating the Asbo.  Steve and Caroline even moved their bed into the dining room in an effort to keep the caterwauling inside the walls.

Holy shit!  What about Steve? Shouldn't there be some kind of law against being just so goddam good between the sheets that your wife can't control herself to the point where the neighbors have to call the police?  This has been going on for four years.  Can't they come up with a compromise that when Steve starts laying the pipe, Caroline has to put a rolled up towel in her mouth.

Steve and Caroline Cartwright.

What makes me think that the main problem 

is when the nooky noises start, the neighbors have

to live with the picture of these two in their heads. 

Gay weddings as only the Brits can do it.

Sharon Hancox and Nicola Hutin, both 40, were celebrating that very special day we've come to know as gay lesbian nuptials.  But...as with most happy occasions in Jolly Ol' England too much strong drink spoiled the festivities.

Wife Nicola Hutin and Husband Sharon Hancox. 

Butchy bared breasts and stiletto heels.

Doctor, my eyes...my eyes...

The reception, which was being held at some joint called Champers bar, exploded into violence when Sharon the groom got three sheets to the wind after eight pints of lager mixed with champagne and she accused doorman David Jenkins of allowing an unwanted guest (Female.  Ex-lover?) into the proceedings.  Sharon then pulled down her gown, exposed her lesbianic ladylumps and called Mr. Jenkins a pervert.  (Jenkins is the pervert???!!! Is he the one exposing himself at a reception for a gay wedding?  I swear to god, the world is spinning off its axis.)   Bride Nicola, joined the fracas and David the doorman takes a blow to the forehead with a two inch stiletto heel wielded by the shitfaced Sharon.  The drinks will flow and the blood will spill to quote Thin Lizzy.

Eventually, the dust settles and the sapphic celebration is told to clear the fuck out.

At the subsequent legal proceeding Mr. Jenkins testified that he'd had previous run-ins with Hancox.  (One can only imagine.)  Hancox retorted that Jenkins "assualted her" and that he "pulled her tits out two years ago."

After all was said and done Sharon Hancox pled to assault and got community service and a fine.  In this country she probably would have been sentenced to anger management classes and some kind of alcohol diversion.  This does not happen in the UK as angry drunken behavior is one of the few sources of national pride they have left.

Man literally lays pipe.

From the always readable UK Sun.

Some doofus numbnuts from Britain got his cock stuck in a length of pipe and it had to have it removed with a grinding tool.  Frankly, I think the fact that he was grinding his tool into a pipe was the cause of his troubles.

I like how the story notes that the man failed to explain how his turgid member found it's way into the pipe.

Let's put on our Sherlock hats and see if we can use our powers of deduction, shall we?

1)  He's a Brit.  Ergo, he's drunk.

2) He's a guy.  Ergo, he's horny.

Deduction:  He looks bleary-eyed at a length of pipe and sees a pussy.  Case closed.

 Soon as I'm done here 
I'm gonna find me something to fuck, Mate. 

Drunkeness...The Brits are the champs!!!

"For fucks sake, Luv, get up.  
I want you to come meet me mum." 

I sit here before you on my 24th consecutive January 1st without a headache that has three aspirin companies submitting bids.  Without me looking around bleary-eyed wondering "what the fuck did I do last night and where the hell are my underpants?"  So I post this with all the smug superiority that only a former degenerate substance abuser can muster.

As most of you know I have a fascination for drunken, loutish behavior.  Most especially of the female variety.  And most especially especially, hammered British lasses face down in the street, skirts akimbo with full panty flash.  Further proof -as if any was needed- that the human race is on a breakneck tumble into the Darwinian pool of certain doom.

Well, the ringing in of New Year 2010 in Ol' Blighty did not disappoint.  Go here for the full rundown of debauchery.  Be sure to click on the video where you learn of the "Booze Buses" (ambulances) that are on constant patrol on the weekends to treat the comatose, the beaten and the stabbed.  Nanny state socialism rocks!!