Shaking nuts, shaking helmets, shaken men

It's a good job stag weekends are not more than a weekend because the abuse of the body is enough to make you want to sit in a corner and cry yourself to sleep. The first night in Leeds got off to an unusual start in the hotel bar as around 15 transvestites walked in and stood right next to 18 of us who were also men, but not dressed as women. Although one man, the stag, had a lederhosen costume on. This was not his own choice.

The next day with a ridiculous hangover that felt like I'd licked the full length of a snooker table, 18 of us went off to ride go karts and hover hovercrafts. This was great fun and it literally shook the hangover from you. I managed to get the fastest time on the timed lap for the go karting but when it came to hover crafting I let myself down, the team down and most of all, I let the hovercraft down. The stag nearly had to do the whole thing in a lime green mankini but he tried it on before the activities and with all that shaking about in the go kart we reckoned it might be both painful and cause spectator regurgitation. I was surprised to find that in our heath-and-safety-mad-country that the bag the mankini came in did not say 'may contain nuts'.

That night, we were off again, managed to just avoid more transvestites, gay bars and some generally weird looking people. At one point we did discuss the logistics of getting the stag into a formula 1 car hanging from the ceiling. We stuck to the safer option of getting his photo taken with a 'fat-lass'. Joy.