Nice Guys Always Finish Last
By Rahul Kohli, Comedian (@Raztafari666)
It's muck up day-eve, the night before the last ever day of school and sixth form. After this, it's exams, summer, then hopefully University, and the dispersion of me and all my friends all over the country.
For muck up day, its a tradition that the year all camp out on the school field. Most of the year decided to drink and have a party on the field. Me and a friend decided to hit a club and join the party on the field later. Me and the friend arrived at the school field around 2.30am expecting to find the party on the field in full flow...but it wasn't. Tents were up, everyone was asleep, and the field was a barren desolate wasteland of anti-patter... save one man.
One man in a corner curled up, shivering in the cold, head in his own vomit. My friend being a borderline sociopath found it hilarious and suggested we go take pictures, but I took pity on the guy. I'd never spoken to this kid, but went up asked him if he was ok?
He told me he wanted his tent and water, so being a good samaritan, I fireman lifted this guy back to his tent. On the way I smelt a horrible stench of shit. I thought, "Ew, this guy's vomit stinks of shit, wtf?" I soldiered on, and took him into his tent, into his sleeping bag, gave him water, made sure he was ok. Once I knew he was, I left, and I thought, "Ew I can still smell shit". I bump into my friend, who promptly informs me there is shit on my neck and shoulder. The guy had shit himself on me as I was carrying him.
Shoulda just taken pictures.
(This occurred in Newcastle upon Tyne)
The Mexican Exchange
By Neal Gale, Retired businessman
In the late 60's, I embarked upon an epic road trip with my mate which took us from San Francisco to the mid coast of Mexico. Many amazing/crazy things happened along the way, but this is probably the most... annoying.
It was a bit of a thrill crossing the border US-Mexican border in our newly acquired car and our aim was to get to Guaymas. Along the way, we stopped at a reasonably large city and we figured it would be a good place to stay the night.
After we had something to eat, a young Mexican man befriended us and suggested that we check out this nightclub around the corner. We thought, "Sure, why not", and followed him there. Oddly, he didn't come in with us but we did find him waiting for us out front when we'd finished up.
He then offered to show us around the next day but we told him that we were making our way south. As it happened, so was he and he asked us for a lift.
The next morning, he met us at our hotel and we set off. Although he didn't look a million dollars, he seemed like a nice guy and we enjoyed his company. At a couple of the stops along the way, we even bought lunch for our new friend.
As we got to Hermosillo, he told us that he'd be happy to get dropped off, thanked us for the lift and we thought that was it.
When we finally arrived in Guaymas, we checked into our hotel and I thought I'd step out in the brand new leather kicks I'd bought in LA. I opened up the shoebox, carefully removed the wrapping paper and was greeted with a horrendous site.
Along the way, our new friend had kindly decided to swap his ratty old shoes with mine.
(This occurred somewhere between Tijuana and Hermosillo)
Why is it that nice guys always finish last?
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