5 October 2009

Show us your ring

Well Cagey's missus certainly took this advice to heart as she flashed peeps of her delicately shaped ring, all night, whilst Cagey sobbed on the dance floor in the arms of those who bothered to show up. Yes it may have only been TB, Stoney and Austin, but you know... A party that certain party pooped, world weary wuss' missed out on, because it was "too far away", "too close to the Woodpeckers" and, "Richard Cage's". And yes, was all those things including being in "a bikers pub", full of "funny looking blokes" and "hot" "rock chicks", but was never the less, a damn good party.


Luckily Sam's friends like showing their rings more than Richard's, but they also only lived a few miles down the road. But whatever was lacking in numbers was certainly made up for by sheer vitality of the assembled personalities, vividly on display. In one corner, standing majestically by the speaker stack, gurning most magnificently stupidly we had Austin, balanced by the equally elastic visage of Stoney, also draped in red and slouching before the opposite speaker stack.



However, out grimacing them all, spread between the middle section of the throngage, we had Cagey, animaled up and Wesley out-silly-dancing everyone, without even trying. We had Shaun, prowling the parameters of the room, looking for boots to lick, Penny fighting that primal face down in the carpet survival instinct, beautifully balanced by Nick doing the exact same thing over t'other side of the floor.



We had Rosie thinking about horses, but not as much as usual, and Millster and Stevie Vee looking forward to their threesome with Stevie C. We had Leila sucking nonchantly on two bottles of strong imported pils, Kier playing in front of everyone with himself (oh, no, not that old one, again).



We had Oz revealing a gleaming box of pulsating gems, and Tania dancing spectacularly all night. We had lots of excellent conversations with old friends (Rachel and Ben) and lots with maybe to be new friends if only we could remember their names.



We jived on tartan carpet under tartan plates appreciating superb music, in the most convivial surroundings with top company and drank, laughed at, revealed and sniffed some things we wished we hadn't. We destroyed a van, and blew up many more brain cells too, but for a few hours, on a gloomy side road off Heathrow Airport, we connected. May Sam and Richard rock.

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