Vickys 18th

Update: Tracked down the pictures, please add a comment if you want your picture taken down with the picture number. Pictures don’t exactly match the story but I like pictures.

The lovable Judd

I’m such a bastard. The party ended early, Mike punched someone, someone didn’t punch me and I’m sure Vicky was a tad annoyed with the whole affair. The first signs of trouble arose at the Royal Oak. We thought we’d get tanked up before hand so headed for our local. There I met up with some ruffians, borderline mainstream society shall we say. My big mouth slipped up and I asked them to come to the party; after calling ahead with a lot of pleading they tagged along. Juddly with Carl joining shortly.

Yes dear, I will take some more pictures of you

I hadn’t seen them in ages but i distinctly remember going to a number of parties and having a pretty eventful night. I’m sure the word eventful should have given me cause for concern.

Birthday girl

We arrived with a healthy mix of ages, from 11 year olds to 50 year olds. It was nice. Went through the usual pleasantries and started to consume more alcohol. I think I was still reeling at my AS grades and the state of my life.
About 5 more boys had slipped in, mates of mates, that type of thing. “po” was smoked and everyone was having fun. I had quite a deep conversation with why “capps” were treated worse than “blacks” and how it was disgraceful. The Sargent seemed the safest, about to risk his life on a tour of duty for queen and country, when everyone here treated him with contempt. The middle class and middle England just don’t seem to mix.

The Lovely Harri

When I’m having a pretty standard time, i tend to take pictures. A consolation for not having fun is to capture other peoples fun memories in a picture. Hopefully one day they would replace my own dire memories. My camera was broken so i found a camera on the table. Promptly took some pictures. Felt at home. Morals kicked in that i was using a camera that belonged to someone else; it could look rather suspect. The boy was a pretty regular Hampton boy. Dime a dozen.

Missy Elliot boots on a trampoline apparently

He seemed ok with it all, with me slyly asking to borrow his memory card. I took 100 odd out of focus unframed pictures which I’m sure you’d have been delighted to see. Some where along the way he saw my rather rough friends and decided i was going to try and steal his camera. I was appalled. Not in the mood to argue and feeling in a relatively bad mood I emasculated him instead.

The key is to point out the blooming obvious. The untalked about and they’re in tatters. I think i just asked him “why will you still be in that chair in 10?” and quietly left. Quietly for me anyway. Quietly i hoped he’d punch me, really i did.

An attempt at an apology was made but he made a quiet departure. My reasoning was that if I apologized in the most pretentious sarcastic way possible he couldn’t fail to punch me. I desperately needed to feel alive and he desperately needed some confidence. Break the poor boy and build him back up. Alas he left without me building him back up.

Caught in an uncompromising position

Upstairs the usual was happening while downstairs the usual whining was happening; about why so and so shouldn’t be doing anything with so and so. I tried to detach myself from the whole affair.

Other trouble was brewing, the father had found the ruffians and told them to leave in a bit of an abrupt manner. Something you don’t particularly want to do when the punk just loves squaring up. The party ended abruptly and everyone left, with a little coercion that is.

I followed the tribe with Monika in tow. I’d forgotten my bag so ran back. 5 minutes later Monika called, Are you ok? “nOo”. Another minute and Mike comes back distraught telling me they played hopscotch on car roofs. I smiled. He then showed me his swollen thumb. tut tut.