This is my mate Dave, to whom I am eternally grateful. He has been a fantastic bloke through thick and thin, and has recently performed the ceremony of Best Man for me. OK, so he completely forgot to organize anything at all for a stag night, and so we ended up playing a round of golf and then having a Scalextrix championship, but I won't hold that against him, oh no. I'll just humiliate him on a regular basis on this site.

Oh, and Ladies....... he's still single!

From ShaunH

My Mate Dave... I have known some 23 years now. The thing I'm most grateful to him is for once shagging a girlfriend of mine whom I was going out with at the time - the look of horror and fear on his face when I walked in on them - I've not laughed so much for ages - it finally enabled me to get the stupid cow off my back and off-load her onto him! (long story - but to say she was bad news and hard to get rid of is an understatement!) - what a just punishment for such a good deed - poor bloke - cheers Dave!

From tntnikki

I have a buddy Dave ( he is not a mate only because I live in Canada).

Eight years ago, due to an unexplained medical problem (assumed to be an infection), Dave required a circumcision operation. Being of the late teen/early 20 years, none of our friends went easy on him when they found out. For the four days leading up to his operation, they guys constantly joked about "getting cut" and so on. Someone taped an actual circumsision being performed, and then switched it with his movie rental. He and his girlfriend settled in to watch Arnold Swarzenager in action (hey, there is no accounting for the taste of Dave's, right?), and were stunned by blood from a different sort of action flick.

But the worse came after the operation. We were having our weekly TGIF BBQ, and my boyfriend was even more evil looking then normal, but would not tell me what was up. I was banned from the kitchen, and so relaxed in the garden sun while the boys ransacked the kitchen, preparing the food.

Dave arrived about an hour into the BBQ, walking very slow and carefully, rather bowlegged, and whincing occasionally. He brought pillows, which he carefully arranged in a chair before settling atop them.

The boys, displaying what I thought to be a moment of unseen compassion, served him his meal...

A wiener, in a bun, carefully shorn of its outer casing from the tip of one end, complete with a dribble of ketchup. I don't think my buddy Dave finds it funny, even now.

I was beginning to feel that there hasn't been enough humiliation of our original 'Dave' on this site as yet. That's not to say that we haven't got plenty of material to work with, I just haven't had the time to make sure that I keep up the barrage on his personality. While I calculate the best way to really embarrass him, please enjoy another photo from the archives.....

From Anonymous

I don't have a story to tell you - not when I have a picture that says more than words ever could. This is my mate Dave at his wedding. Sergeant Dave in fact. How many at his barracks would like to see this picture then??

From Jayne & Rob H

Sorry I don't have a photograph, but this is my Dave story.

I belong to a car club, and a few years ago a large group of us met on a very nice camp site in Derbyshire. Dave came along (he was still single then), his nickname was and still is 'fast-talking Dave' for very obvious reasons. When asked "How are you Dave?" the answer you got was "I'mgreatgoodtoseeyouwherewereyouonthelastcampdoyouwantabeer?" Dave bought along a new toy.

It was a very large firework - I think it was the sort used on Sydney Harbour Bridge to celebrate the Millenium.

Very late on Saturday night and with large quantities of beer having been consumed, Dave decided that it would be a good idea to light his firework in the field next to where we were camped. However, he did not quite follow the instructions that were printed on the side, so he improvised.

Unable to dig the required hole deep enough with a spoon, the firework was placed in a shallow depression. "Attach the longer length of fuse wire to the short piece protruding from the top," said the instructions (the long length had been left at home). Make sure that you are at least 2 metres away from the firework when lighting and retire to a safe distance.

The firework was spectacular. It lit the whole of the surrounding area for miles. It also blew a 1 metre crater in the field. Dave staggered back covered in soil and partially deaf. Like i say, it was very nice camp-site, which we are now unable to return to.

From PlaidRabbit

I have a "mate" (if that's what you call friend in your country) named Dave, too. He's perhaps one of the best guys I know, and a fantastic musician. He's also quite level headed, which makes him an asset in times where people might not be thinking clearly.

Anyway, my Dave story.

Dave recieved a motorcycle from his father a few months ago. While camping out in the rural reaches of Kentucky, he noticed that the clutch cable was rather weak, and that he should take it easy on the way home or at least until he could get somewhere to replace it. Dave then proceeded to make the 25 to 30 mile trip home, taking things slow to keep him from being stranded.

After the 5th mile, Dave's clutch cable broke in half. He was in second gear - high enough to be able to "kick" the gears up and down if he needed to, but he couldn't start the motorcycle if it were to die from coming to a complete halt.

Dave, somehow, managed to get home without ever making a complete and full stop. Not even once. When at traffic lights, he'd slow down to idle speed, and even go in a circular pattern until the light changed green. He got across a very wide street in one pass.(this street has 7 lanes on it - wide and frequently used). I've never seen anyone do it before the hours of 2am, and this was around 4pm on a Saturday. Prime time for traffic. I guess he's just a lucky bastard, but that's a good quality too.

Everything turned out right, but it was a million to one shot. He's now used all of his luck, and can't win the lottery. I feel bad for him, in that sense. :)

There you go, Dingo.

Plaidy

KEEP SENDING IN THOSE DAVE STORIES...........