Teenage PartiesAh, the heady days when catering consisted of a crate of lager and some vodka illicitly extracted by whoever looked oldest, decoration consisted of removing any breakable furniture and the morning after was just the morning and not the rest of the week.
Tell us who you snogged, where you threw up and who just would not leave.
(
chthonic, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 10:20)
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Jason Sankey....(for t'was his name...)....would have been 19, so it bloody counts. Just.
University, 1st year Psychology at UEL, 1990. I was resident of the chaotic maelstrom that was 45 Gwendoline Avenue, Plaistow. Or was it Upton Park? Fuck it, E13.
We had a great house party, and Jason got hugely pissed early on, and went to bed - his bed was just the mattress on the floor, so low level is the order of the day. It's up against the wall, the right hand side and top edges as you look down on it. Jason has bowked onto the floor, to the left, as I discover when I wander in to see where the bloody hell my housemate is.
I too am quite hideously pissed but of considerate enough mind that I should leave him a bowl to be sick in should a repeat performance occur, so I find the washing up bowl (miraculously free of dirty mugs, I once washed 32 of the bastards in one hit) and put it down next to him, in the pile of spew.
Jason wasn't sick again, but woke up next morning wondering how he managed to vom everywhere including under but not actually in the bowl, which was spotless.
Puzzly puzz as Lenin once said. Lennon? Oh.
Insert joke penis here.
(, Thu 13 Apr 2006, 11:13, Reply)
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