27 January 2010

CAKEY

NICK'S BIRTHDAY 27/1/95

Hitting 29 can induce one of at least half a dozen states of mind, ranging from relief to mindless panic. Nick went through the whole gamut of emotions here (as she does everyday). To say life with Nick is a fast, emotional roller-coaster, would be an understatement. Temperamental and (always) demanding, yet fun filled and (always) rewarding, she is one of a rare breed of women who lives and loves life to the full, is well educated and travelled, loves people and all the myriad forms of social interaction that they produce (the more diverse the better), has a fucking wicked sense of humour. She just rushes over you like a train; her energy sucks in everyone who meets her.Anyway, to celebrate all this a 'small gathering' is declared for b-day night. A gang of motley associates arrive early for the buffet of 'Food for Thought' chilli (quite honestly the best chilli recipe you are ever likey to taste), roast potatoes and nibbles of various olives, jalepeno peppers, Mexican refried beans (mushy peas), and a wide assortment of eclectic drinkeepoos brought by the guests.With that little lot dispatched, as well as a few cards of Doom 2, and other things, the posse had an aperitif at the Labour Club, after first calling into Jenny's new shop to wish her luck on the opening day (The Cave, Oxford Street, Whitstable. Sells candles, clothes, joss-sticks etc) . Even CJ managed to sink a few bevs without writing an article on poor, depressed people being mad and annoying him. So far so small.Little to our knowledge, or should I say mine, the whole of Whitsable knew of this 'small gathering', so, once back at HQ hundreds of very drunk people appeared from pubes and proceeded to eat, drink, smoke and trash everything in sight. It was, it turned out, a great party, with the Dover posse crapping all over the tVC 'party' peeps by staying awake all night and day and still managing to remain witty and interesting. Mia, ducked out and had a long sleep in the car, only to emerge full of beans in the morning."Just look what Steve's done to me", pipes Nick, appearing suddenly in front of me. The centre of her face is smeared in fruit pulp (I hope). "Why did he do that?". "Because I put a plum down his trousers."Fanny; Steve having the sweats and practising deep breathing exercises, sitting on the toilet, coz he'd lost it badly on Terr's cake. I think we all lost it rather severely on Terry's fungi surprise. "It was fucking unbelievable that cake" in tone of whispered awe. I didn't manage to get to 'bed' till 4pm, was up at 7pm for Blind Date, some nosh, a smoke before jumping in the car and blatting off up town to play Jump. By 4am I was well and truly scuppered and sneaked off home to have some sleep. Burning the candle at both ends, can sometimes have terrific rewards, but this weekend it just tired me right out. It's that fucking cake of Terri's, man, I'm still having serious flashbacks now, and that's 3 days later.
The party was made for me by Terri's cake, Oz's set, and that kind old boy in the Labour Club who bought me a Port and made me puke all over the loos (for the first time in years). In fact once I started puking I couldn't stop, and thought at one stage I would have to go home and crash out! But once I stopped throwing up alcohol there was always liquid cake to throw up instead.The drinking that went on before we even reached the Labia Club involved sinking as much piss, of whatever variety, as quickly as possible, just like in the good old days, which isn't surprising when you're in a room of resting/practising alcoholics. The Labia followed along in that rich, rewarding vein, and the party started to look as if it would surely follow, when Terri, heroine of the party, produced a small, square, brown cakey object, which everyone fell upon like a pack of malnourished clubbers, devouring mindlessly, heedless as to the consequences later on .....Yum yum. And later on, things that caught the eye; Louie me loochie cavorting throbbingly on top of the speaker stack, beating his chest apet-astically, Dawn dancing in her rightful place, yes, you've guessed it, back where she belongs, in the bosom of her chums astride the speaker, Now Ey giggling uncontrollably and (shock horror) actually taking off one of his many tops, surely for the first time ever! Martyn said to Steve "you know that fucking 'orrible rag you call a shirt?" "Yeah, our kid" says Steve. "It was a birthday present from me brother". "Well ah binned it", S & M snogging away passionately, Cath snogging away with a certain individual, Austin on tipp topp form (finally managing to batter down Louie's resistance and talk him in to allowing him to move in with him, although Louie now seems to think he's going to be involved in some weird sex practices involving animals the size of a donkey, well he hopes he is, that's if he's already not), the stallion conversation (and I had a dream about a stallion last night you bastards and he was the most beautiful example of male I've ever.....), Jasper playing our old records, very well too, timo performing admirably and all his mad bastard cohorts wearing us out yet again, ie Aaron sharing his plums with us, Pam shimmying away all night despite having a bad attack of indigestion, Pen managing to get absolutely slaughtered despite leaving the necessary "on the dashboard" of someone's car, I do not jest (see Austin's 10 commandments no.2) and he was actually quite amusing too and we only fell for 20 of his blags, thanks to Sara and her spag bol cake, and everyone else who helped make it a snorter of a party that at times almost had me crying in sheer ecstasy.

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