Funny Stories
by Max Moose
Index
Stud gets fried
Stud man is one of those guys who just has girls approach him from everywhere. All his mates are sick of it, but one night, we enjoyed his being shot down.
For once in his life, one fine evening at Redhead, he decided to make a move on a girl we dubbed "Jordan". His approach was smooth, relaxed, and going to plan, until he said: "That's a kick-arse dress". Jordan replied: "It's a skirt". Stud man was left with no option but to crawl back into his hole, and we grinned from ear to ear.
Mo cops unfair spray
One of my mates, Mr C, is a complete disgrace when single and drunk. He has an awful habit of saying what he thinks about a girl's appearance, irrespective of whether it is good, bad, or otherwise.
One night Mr C was standing next to Mo, one of the best guys you could ever hope to meet. Mr C made a very harsh comment on a girl who was walking past, which she heard. She then turned around, but had a go at Mo, instead of Mr C...
"Have you looked in a mirror lately. You're not exactly great yourself."
Poor Mo had nowhere to turn, as Mr C laughed at his expense.
The $3 Million Drink Card
This one actually is about me. Every Monday at Bobby McGee’s, they have a name the song competition, and give away prizes like drinks, movie tickets, caps, and so on for the first correct answer. Most of the answers are pretty easy for music buffs, but from time to time they throw in a tough one. It usually involves an obscure one hit wonder.
This night, they played a stack of pretty easy ones from the eighties. None of the songs were hard to name, but the tough one came when ‘Agadoo’ was played. Everyone knew the song, but nobody knew the artists. The DJ was confident of this, and starting adding to the prize pool. I knew the answer, it was on the classic songs page, but I was way up the back, so had to get the DJs attention. By the time I got there, he was offering a $3m drink-card. You should have seen his face when I called out “Black Lace”.
It was one of those ‘there goes my job’ looks. All he had left on him was a solitary drink-card, which he presented to me saying, ‘consider that the down payment’. Knowing that there was no-way a drink card of that magnitude could ever happen, we compromised.
It actually happened once before, when I named ‘The Trammps’ as the singers of ‘Disco Inferno’. He followed that up with, spell Trammps. I knew about the double m, and added that the song had also been covered by Tina Turner, and Tom Jones. He gave up about them, and presented me with a ton of Black Flies gear.
Bunny Boy is Born
It was Good Friday, and GT was out for a big one. He started drinking on the way in to Metro, stopping at a friend’s place to polish off another spirits bottle.
The group arrived at Metro to see a huge queue. Knowing that if he queued more alcohol would hit him, and he would probably fall over, his friends decided to sneak him through on a membership. Once inside he sat quite happily on the steps in the main room, until the security asked him to stand. His friends knew if they saw him, he’d be out the door, so they devised a cunning plan to get him upstairs into the Rebar.
They made past all the security and did all the right things to keep him conscious, but inevitably he passed out anyway. Eventually the security saw this and asked him to leave. He could not. Instead the medical officer was called, and GT was escorted to the Medical Room. His friends were told to collect him in an hour or so.
When they went to get him, they followed a couple of people in bunny suits into the medical room where GT was lying on the couch asleep. A nice young girl woke him. The first thing he sees in his drunk state were the bunnies. “Hehe - Bunnies - Hehe!” was the response that put everyone on the floor. The nickname Bunny Boy had been earnt.
Mr L and the Barrier
Mr L had a big night at a city club. He drank himself stupid, had a cigar, than drank some more to get rid of the horrible cigar taste. Along the way during the night, he accidentall entered the girl’s toilets, and discovered it to be the best place in the club, because it was all girls. Eventually the girls and the security move him out. He went back to drinking.
Moments later he disappeared, so the guys went looking for him. Apparently he almost made it to the toilet, but instead found the back exit courtesy of security. The guys came back with the news. Fortunately a couple of them were heading home. Ten minutes later, Mr L eventually found the front of the club, but he wasn’t finished yet.
He wanted a trophy for his efforts. “Hey that barrier at the top of the line would be nice. I reckon I can take it”.
“But Mr L, there are security guys everywhere”.
No, he wanted it, so he devised a cunning plan. He would sneak up, acting normally, and just grab it and run.
Have you ever seen a staggering drunk sneak up on something. He might have pulled it off, if he wasn’t so drunk. As I understand it, he could hardly walk let alone sneak, and the security guys just waited. The second he grabbed the barrier they pounced. Mr L reckons he probably got about five metres before the bruising came out. When they questioned him, his response was: “It was just a misunderstanding”!
The Bad Ideas Club
A recently closed club had a reputation for borrowing ideas from other clubs. In its two years, they only had a couple of innovations of their own. The one that sticks in my mind, though, takes the cake as probably the dumbest thing a club has ever done. It was a venue with several rooms, and several DJs. The club was struggling, so was looking to cut costs. Their solution probably seemed wise at the time, and you can imagine the meeting where it took place.
Around the table, the general manager announces the loss of a DJ. They really can’t afford another one, especially at short notice, and they are looking for an innovation. The general manager’s solution, a juke box.
Imagine that, the clubbers can choose their own mixes, and we'll blast it through the dancefloor speakers. Oh yeah, and we’ll charge them for it. Great idea boss. They decide to put it in the room with the pool tables, and second best dancefloor.
The first night, not one person stepped on that dancefloor, for two reasons. One, the music was selected by the grungeheads playing pool. Yeah you can dance to that. And two, people like to go out of their way to be annoying. Hmmm, a club that I hate, thinks one of drunk my friends. What songs do they have? Wow, that song is seven minutes long of some guy just talking. Hey that will clear the room. From the moment of that discovery, he returned to the room every fifteen minutes or so, to put it on again. Even the pool players left
Mr T Tongue Strain
Mr T was a relative shy quiet guy, just discovering that girls found him irresistable. One night at Jooce, he was on fire, or at least one young lady thought so. She watched him like a hawk. Oh, why not, thinks Mr T. Within minutes the epic begins. Just below the DJ booth in the Legends Bar, the kiss starts. It is about 10.30pm.
It probably took half an hour to reach the point of annoyingness. Within 45 minutes the DJ Basil was onto it. “Isn’t that about enough?” he asks. On it goes.
After about an hour we were amazed, and being great mates, we had a chat to Basil. ”His name is Mr T, and he only met her tonight“.
“Okay everyone, they just met tonight, and have been at it for an hour. Poor your drinks over them. His name is Mr T” proclaims Basil, with some effect. Mr T and girl get showered with lots of sticky stuff, but continue.
The band starts, Andrew Hosking & Coupe de Ville I believe. They pick up on Mr T's antics, and asked Basil for time checks, one hour thirty, one hour forty-five.
The band set concludes, Basil is amazed. Basil: “Mr T, you are putting Keiren Perkins to shame. Can I have a couple of water bottles please?”.
He pours them over the couple. Tongue firmly down throat, Mr T wipes her face, continuing undetered. Two hours pass. “Can I have an ice bucket please?”.
He empties it only momentarily distracting the couple, who remove ice from their backs. More damage was done on the dancefloor, with people sliding everywhere.
After three hours, we had to head home. A quick tap on the shoulder, and a whisper into his ear whilst still going, “Mr T we have to leave in five, or you can get a lift with Mr S”. Their lips finally seperate.
“No, I have footy tomorrow, I have to go. I’ll get her number, and give her a kiss goodnight!”. He spent the next week recovering from mouth strains.
Zone Dancin’ Mr P
Mr P is a madman. An actor, impersonator, singer, etc. I have seen this guy perform some of the most unique dances you will ever imagine. Classics include: sword fighter, horse rider, charging bull, lawnmower dance, brushcutter, chainsaw, remote control car, terminator, pogo, and fisherman, just to name a few. He simply impersonates people doing those activities, in perfect time with the music. But there are two that rise above the rest, the statue and the zone dancer.
The statue is one of his personal favourites, and it began at Metro. Dancing on the suspended walkway, he simply ran out of moves, so froze solid. After five minutes without moving at all, people started noticing from the dancefloor. Within ten, quite a crowd had gathered. After fifteen, I started moving him into different poses. Then out of the blue, he exploded back to life, dancing as if he’d never stopped. It shocked everyone.
Since then it has become a regular thing. You would not believe how many times I have had to convince the security guys to not throw him out. Everyone reckons he‘s on drugs, but the reality is that he is just mad.
Zone dancing is another favourite. This was born one night, when he was copying a Silvers dancing girl. He was taking her off brilliantly, and she hated it. After a quick chat with the security guy, Mr P was tapped on the shoulder. “Please dance in your own zone” requests the security dude. Mr P was incensed, so to make someone look stupid he started miming. Yeah, you know moving his hands like they were touching invisible surfaces. He made it the shape of a box, complete with roof. After drawing the attention of everyone in the club, and making his point, he opened a pretend door, and started all over again
Submit Your Funny Story
- Write a short, funny story.
- Email the story to MAX.