Willetts' stag

The fucker was I broke my jaw 3 days before Andy Willetts’ stag weekend.

This weekend involved -
An opening night of heavy drinking with a rowdy bunch of guys, many I haven't seen in 8 years and for some reason they kept reaching for my head, in particular my cheeks to greet me or acknowledge me on their way to the bar or the pisser (particularly the bestman Knowlesy); I had to be constantly on guard.......for the whole weekend.

After violent vomiting the next morning where at the time the searing pain and the feeling that it wasn’t going to stop made me think I was going to die; I decided not to take any of my pills and just be total hard-core.

A few hours later was a 2hr 5-a-side football tournament where half of us were hung over. With balls and challenges flying everywhere it was a dangerous time for me, obviously I avoided being the goalkeeper but I was getting involved; I even took a boot to the balls which made me vomit.... from...you guessed it - the bestman Knowlesy (this was after I had already vomited 3 times from hangover exertion during game-2)
A boot to the balls I could take, but a high challenge, a ball in the face, or even a header could have been disastrous... I came back on to score the tournament winning goal and claim the match ball by scoring a beautiful top bag pen with my left foot in sudden death contest for the Celts against the Internationals – it was like poetry in motion, and all this in my fragile state.

After more drinking we attended a beautiful Indian restaurant where I couldn't eat and they didn't serve soup - I asked the waiter to suggest the most soup-like prawn curry - he brought me the driest thing on the menu. I had to gather up all the pakora sauces and get creative with that bitch – prawn pakora-sauce biryani soup - my mouth was on fire the rest of the night.

Saw Fred McCauley – not terrible, but not good.
Went for a piss in a bush (a dangerous activity for a man in my state, I know)
Lost everyone and since I no longer own a phone I was fucked – went by myself to one place that I definitely knew was on the itinerary (the Three Sisters), had a few drinks and sneaked into a few comedy gigs (these guys made Fred seem pretty good), sneaked about the place just getting up to mischief exploring (it really is a labyrinth of a place) – hung around for a few hours but got bored and went home and found that a few of the stags were already getting pissed at my neighbour’s house party… drank till 5am

Final day was a lunchtime meet for a pint before everyone started heading home – but for a hard-core bunch of us it spiralled out of control and some stags had to come back to mine for another night after missing their last bus/train.

The next day I didn’t move from the couch my jaw had been through a lot and I didn’t want to start my pills till I was a bit drier – Fucking agony but the weekend was worth it.

Even with a broken jaw the Wildness just comes out in me.

Broken Jaw

I was out having a drink, Dave decided to have a piss down a lane next to some bins.

Unfortunately no one saw a woman sitting in her car near the bins... not that we could anticipate her reaction - she went mental!!!

After beeping her horn and screaming like a banshee, I calmly stated that I think that she was overreacting. She screamed that she had kids in the car to which I responded that she was the one attracting their attention, their car was facing away from the bins and without her going mental no one would even have noticed, never mind cared…

At this point her husband shows up and says ‘right round the corner’ I follow him, thinking that as a guy, he is going to realised how retarded his wife was being but while I was asking him if he had ever pissed outside he started throwing punches. We exchanged a few blows, but he caught me on the jaw and dropped me to my knee, I stood straight back up and he started running away, got into the car and his wife drove off (I don’t know if I hurt him too) but he ran away so I’m claiming victory regardless.

Dave was still pissing through the whole event...

Despite the anesthetising effect of 6 or so pints, I knew it was fucked…
You know what I’m like with shit though, I believe in the ability of the body to heal itself so I left it a couple of days before going to hospital to confirm what I already knew.

They wanted to slice open my face and put in a metal plate – fuck that!!! Beeping at every security checkpoint for the rest of my life…

I have decide to heal au natural but I have to go to the specialist weekly to check that it is healing straight and there is no infection, but without the support of the plate it means soup for at least 8 weeks.

The metal plate could still be a reality though so fingers crossed… BTW it's agony!