I went to Spain with a small group of mates; we were here to run with the bulls. We went out for a night on the town, looking for some good female company, we got totally wasted but had so much fun.
The next morning I woke up and felt like a 10 ton anvil had dropped on my head, I looked at the clock,
Shit-take mushrooms, it was 12 already, not that it wasn’t surprising seeing as we only got back around 4 or 5. I slowly woke up all the guys, who were all spread out on the floor, having not made it to bed in time. I went over to Matt and kicked him in the ribs, after a gentle shaking not having woken him up, I then preceded to do this to the rest of the guys who were in various states of disarray. Though Pete I found in the bathroom clinging to the toilet.
I yelled and yelled until all of them were up, because all of them were up, because the running with the bulls is on at 1. After putting on our very dark shades and a hat we were ready, well as ready as you can be after a night like that.
We gathered with all the other daring guys from all over the world. The minute I saw the bull, fuming and scraping its front hoof on the hard ground, I instantly regretted last night. As they let the bull out of the pen all the men scrambled and sprinted down the road, as I looked back, the angry bull I saw had found some friends, who were also chasing us.
We soon got tired , me and my mates so we were the last, the bulls picked us off, each taking a person, as I ran I saw the wharf, the bull was so close behind, I could feel its warm breath on my neck, I jumped.
It was like I was running on water, I was safe I thought, bulls can’t swim, well that’s what I was thinking when it jumped in after me.
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