| [ |
music |
| |
Johnny Cash - The Man Comes Around |
] |
‘Well, we’re up a hill about 15 minutes walk from the party. It’s pitch black, it’s starting to rain, there’s thistles everywhere, Martin’s dancing about, Elliot’s playing 80s German disco pop songs, we’ve got Stella, there’s gear flying about, it’s great.’
So said Dave over the phone to Evvy after Dave, Elliot and I decided to christen the farm party with a pointless, physically taxing, dark, wet and decidedly prickly excursion around the farm’s land. We got bored and proceeded to get completely fucked halfway up a large hill. I managed to roll an enormous spliff in pitch darkness, high winds, sitting on thistles, several beers in me, and with the thumb on my right hand not working. A fairly worrying skill. Once we had got down I divided my time between dancing like an idiot to the sounds of DJ SIMON (poor guy was not enjoying his work – ‘That was an ABBA medley.. not many ABBA fans here today.. that’s obvious.’) and smoking outside on plastic seats with Dave, pretending we were on a ranch. Indeed if we’d been in the States it would’ve been a ranch. But we’re in Blighty so it was a farm. Oh well.
Katy was on good form and got fucking smashed. She was ordering us all about in typical girl-whose-birthday-it-is fashion and told me she’s gonna turn up unannounced/invited to my house more often. Wicked! Essentially my entire old friendship group from sixth form were there; many of whom I hadn’t seen in 2 years. A lot of wrongness was enjoyed, and we have arranged to meet for an imperial bender this Christmas. A girl called Emma from my primary school was there, whom I haven’t seen since I was about 10! She is only at fucking Cambridge – we’re gonna hang out next year. Nice one.
Managed to wangle a lift home so I didn’t sleep on the farm. Woke up feeling moderately woozy and had a big smoke before heading to Kennington to see Mark for his birthday. He, Jamie, Pete and Sarah are living together now, which is ace. Was cool hanging out with Mark again. We listened through the new Planes album chatting crap, before heading to the pub with Jamie, Pete, Sarah, Kron and Ben. Got back to Croydon and had a beer, a joint, then met up with Friya and entourage at Baggati’s. Ran into Ria which was odd. Got a call from Simon - he's off to Madrid having feactured his cheek on a lampost. Fuck's sake. But yes, a nice meal was had, Priyan and I getting a bit cheeky with the wine and whisky, then back to Friya’s, where I mixed up a fuckload of Woo Woo. Her dad and I got mashed in the garage chatting about life, love, the wrongs of the world, etc. He gave me whisky, I left him some gear. I was completely munted by this point. I managed to get every member of Friya’s family drunk/stoned, before going back to mine with Priyan for some whiskys. I vomited Woo Woo goo in the toilet and passed out on the sofa. Spent today listening to Johnny Cash. Sterling weekend. My only regret is of course the absence of Master Pitchford, though I'll wager we shall be rabble-rousing in the twilight hours soon enough.
|
pleased
rushed
blah
tired
determined
okay
dorky
high
hot
