My first house party
It was thrown by the hoary denizens of the Btec popular music course at the college where I was studying A level music. They were the skanky rockers, we were the sheltered namby pambys. However, I hooked up with one of the rcokers and duly tagged along to a party to celebrate the success of the Musifest event and to spend the proceeds on as many Big Bags of Drugs as possible.

The night got off to a good start, the smoking room was the kitchen and there was a more relaxed atmos in the living room where we lounged on the futon watching (what else) Bad Taste. My boyfriend chucked what I believe is known as a 'whitey' and I took him outside to walk it off. He chucked then wandered back in to the toilet where he proceeded to spend the rest of the party - on the toilet with his trews round his ankles, willy visible at a jaunty angle for all to see. I decided to carry on partying.

5 am and all have collapsed apart from me, sitting in a doorway watching the sun come up, listening to the sound of a roaring fire...oh, that's not quite right is it? Turn round to see the kitchen table ablaze where the candle has ignited a pile of coats. Surprisingly quick thinking despite my state, I beat the flames out with one of the jackets, laughed maniacally as soon as it was over (you know when you laugh at innappropriate times?)

The guy whose jacket I put the fire out with was characteristically cool about it. 'Oh yeh, I was going to buy another one anyway'. Mind you, it was a shell suit jacket.

The last memory was waiting for a bus home from Ponefract bus depot thinking everyone was looking at me and that they KNEW i was a dirty drug-taker. Although I did probably reek of weed.
(Kazza , loathing myself so you don't have to, Fri 14 Apr 2006, 23:54, Reply)