Turning 23 on the 22nd so having a party on Friday the 13th...savvy?

I am ever so sober but I've ingested an inordinate amount of caffeine so tired as I am I can't quite drift off. Tonight is a bit of a blur but here are my cliff notes, for those of you who weren't quite as sober.

It started with a standard stop off at Tescos where I purchased far too much proteinous food. We then progressed to Swapnal's. Subsequent to unloading my shtuff out of the car I proceeded to hand him something wrapped in bubble wrap.

Hot nuts

Does what it says on the tin. There's actually a little message on the tin as to why they've named these nuts so. I then hand him something else wrapped in bubble wrap. This was something I'd thought about at great length. Swapnal likes hot, spicy things and he's rather partial to alcomahol. Of course I came up with chilli vodka! After extensive research, utilising the methodology of G.O.O.G.L.E I found that most recipes recommended infusing your vodka for several weeks. I had 1 week...so I had to get a little creative to ensure a sufficient kick was present.

I finely chopped several chillies and added them to a bottle of vodka. I then proceeded to intermittently agitate and heat the bottle to ensure the speed of infusion. Unconvinced that this would do the trick I invested in  a bottle of this:

Scoville Scale

Of course I had no idea how much of this to add so I poured a couple of drams out and added a couple of drops. Thinking to myself "How hot can it be?" I swirl the concoction, so as to evenly distribute the angry looking dark red liquid. I then swiftly draw it in to my mouth and swill it about. It is at that moment that I experience the hottest thing I have ever tasted. Not only was the burn epic it lasted for about 15 minutes and I could feel it all the way down to my stomach. So I add a single drop to a litre and take the extract along incase it's not enough.

Waiting around for the rest of the party to arrive we ended up playing poker. James wins, he appears to be making a habit of that. This won't do at all. Mark has disappeared home under the guise of grabbing a shower and change of clothes. But we all knew he was waiting so he could arrive with Mandaz. Oh and Tammy!

Mark left work at around 17:00 and he arrived at around 19:40. Not gonna analyse it, just pointing out something of a temporal anomaly. Upon arrival he starts tucking in to the pizza that Swapnal had kindly purchased for the party. Which somewhat confused the assembled masses as we had been informed by text that he had just frequented the chippie down the road. I don't think I'll ever understand Mark Taylor, an enigma wrapped in a pouch.

The night is documented here in photo form scroll through as you read!, access may be an issue if you are not within my friendship trigrams on facebook.

Vicky arrives and briefly says hello I inquire about where she works. I remember her vaguely mentioning the Co-op so I inquire and she explains using Sainsburys as a reference point. I once went to look at a Mazda Takuya down there the salesman knew the owner of the accountancy practice I'd just finished some work experience at.

I am then victim of some social jujitsu, getting someone to talk about themselves. The question is flipped and I'm asked what do I do? Well I do lot's of things but it can't really be considered a role. Consulting Swapnal he tries to explain what I've been doing lately, reconfiguring data. But that's not what I was doing 4 months ago. And what I was doing four months ago isn't what I was doing from December 2012 - May 2013. All for the same umbrella of companies. It's only confusing when I try to explain it to someone else. Vicky brings out the awesomeness that is face cake! It's a cake, already awesome, with the birthday boys face on it!

It is now that Eleanor and Mr. Manchester arrive. First name Josh last name Manchester, or at least that's what Eleanor would have you believe. Sound enough lad even if we didn't really get a chance to chat. Now we load up some shots of the chillified vodka. The general opinion is that it's horrible. Myself and my fellow craftsman thought it had a nice burn to it. Ooh and Ellegator gives me a birthday card! It has a tash on it! In my infinite wisdom I left it round Swapnal's house :-/

I'm flying high after that shot and Swapnal cracks open a bottle of Cobra King. I'm making my way to the bin deposit the remains of recently devoured chicken thigh and am frozen in my tracks by the possibility of a cork to the face. Swapnal being the gentleman that he is grants me safe passage before unleashing the cork.

After a little more chatter beer pong inevitably rears it's head. The form has been slightly modified to include my devastating chilli concoction. The girls in a fit of surreptitious sensibleness had hidden it away! But Swapnal engaged his craftometer to full craftiness and extracted it from whence it was hidden.

Expression on display: hmmm with a hint of trepidation?

There is a dry run to demonstrate how this whole thing is to go down and then the games begin! First blood to the girls and Swapnal manfully downs some beer. Mark gets the ball in and Amandas has to down a beer but she gets her own back immediately and Mark takes his time with his beer. You can't rush Mark, he likes to savour...everything! There are a flurry of misses but then Swapnal lands the ball in one of the shmaller cups! They contain the pain of vodka that has been infused with chilli extract, fresh chilli, cinnamon and mace. Vicky downs it like a champ. It is now that the formations of cups begin to change. They morph into a big back line with the one remaining small cup on at the front for the girls. Mr. Manchester gets one in and Eleanor has to down one, followed by Vicky. The lads have a slim lead. Then this happens:


It's all level, three big cups and one small cup left to go. The formation changes again and Mark is not a fan. He is berated for moaning so he busts out his impression of Tammy, it's not received well. As chance would have it we end up with the last two cups being the tiny ones that contain the pain. After many rounds of fruitless ponging an executive decision is taken, to transfer the contents of the smaller cups into a bigger one. Thus hopefully bringing this epic battle to a conclusion sooner rather than later. The girls win and celebrate in adequately exuberant fashion.

A little talking here n there is punctuated with a pork pie. These particular pies contain pickle thus offsetting the richness of the awesome porky filling. I lie I actualy consumed two pies! Mark makes his inevitable way towards Swapnal's laptop to fiddle with the playlist. This has lead to some rather epic playlist beef in the past. But this time he has Amanda with him for back up. They look so happy crouched over fiddling with the playlist that no one wants to risk unsettling this microcosm. For some reason or other Amanda says why. But not a why as you or I would utter it. It was said in a manner that only Mark does, she's taken on one of his key characteristics. This confirms our belief that being around Mark will eventually turn you into him.

David makes a remark about his IQ. This brings Eleanor in swinging for the fences as intelligence, like everything, is relative. I think we're on the same page but I twist and turn to keep the discourse going. We live in a literate society so if you can do that well then you are considered "intelligent". But back in the day when hunting was the way to stay alive the fastest and strongest were the most "intelligent". The scale changes based on the situation. But it boils down to problem solving. At least that's my simple spin on it :-D

Eleanor grows weary and demands another game. Arrogance is simple and random. David assumes his customary tossing duties. He's a champion doncha know! Some baseless accusations of cheating lead to me taking on the mantle of tosser. It leads to a lot of drinking. I remember I came with a secondary mission but my camera lacks the required battery power to fulfill it :-(

There is talk of going in to town. I'm still on the mend so I say my goodbyes and prep myself to depart. During the dying moments of this gathering Amanda falls backwards onto the couch! Outstanding :-D I drive home and crack all my joints, down a protein shake and get to bed. The next day Swap posts this lovely pic:

Face cake, hot nuts, hot vodka, desktop drummage and many a card

The night is documented here in photo form scroll through as you read!, access may be an issue if you are not within my friendship trigrams on facebook.

Soiree, Sugarcubes and much snappage

Yesterday was our first day in the new office. Windows, filing cabinets and I've even been given my own phone! Heart's still heavy but I'll live ;-)

The evening kicked off with a trip to tecos to gear up on beverages for the evening ahead. Once that was done and dusted the next issue was food. My experience of supermarket hot food counters is lacking, mostly because the first and last time I got anything from one it was extremely dry and completely devoid of flavour. I took the plunge and braved some bbq shtuff, under the expert guidance of Mark Taylor I also procured a Tesco Finest pie.

I've spelt shtuff like that on purpose. I noticed that's how I usually pronounce the word, when I'm being informal. Whilst this is written communication it's playing through my head in my voice so for it to go through your head in something akin to my voice I put shtuff in there.

Upon arrival we efficiently emptied the car and I set to demolishing the bbq and pie. Damn it was good! The bbq that is, the pie was lacked seasoning. Then come the drinking games...

We didn't have cards, schoolboy error! So arrogance it is. I was uncharacteristically unlucky and must've downed a pint by the time David Smith arrived and informed us he is a champion tosser. Marc Birch shows up just after sweating profusely, it's an oddly warm day. David demonstrated his champion tossing skills, Mark doesn't follow and for his naivety he ends up downing several pints.

We move on to Blackjack which is straight forward enough but seems to get old fast. So Texas Hold em it is then. Now anyone who knew me from my time at Notts will know I played a lot of poker, I mean a lot. So I'm think this is gonna be like taking candy from the proverbial. But Mark throws a noob shaped spanner in my works. He literally has no idea what's going on and raises for no apparent reason.

We then realise that several other folk have arrived and we are being ever so antisocial. We scatter to the four winds and meet n greet everyone in sight. I personally remember several names, now I know this is nothing to brag about. But I am terrible with names, faces I remember forever, but names elude me. The only way I've found is to commit both first and last name to memory then I remember them forever. For example I can remember first and second names of everyone I went to primary school with in Grimsby, 15 years ago. Urgh I feel very old right now.

It was just before this I remembered that I am now in possession of a camera and started snapping everything in sight! Near enough 200 pics, most not posed just grabbing the moment :D

Somehow beerpong rears it's notorious head and naturally it's boys vs. girls. It's all a bit hit n miss as none of us are distinctly deft with the ball. Then things get interesting and Mark suddenly displays the focus of a surgeon about to operate on his own brain. What's at stake? A hug n kiss from the hostess herself, Victoria Pateman. The tension builds and Mark casually makes the shot! The crowd rejoices and Mark near enough faints from excitement. I missed the moment but caught the instant before:

As you can see he's quite the showman and has earnt himself the nickname of Little Mark!

It was sometime after this that Mark lost his dinner in the toilet then he insisted he was going to Ritzys and after we refused to let him go he fell asleep on a pew! I should explain that the party was in what was a church and they've kept the pews!

Onwards...after sending Mark off home with James n David. We decided to power walk it to Cubes. Well initially the idea was to attend the Funk n Soul night at the Engjne Shed. I have no idea why we didn't go along. Craig Charles was in attendance!

So myself, Swapnal, Jimbo and Simo head off. Then we stop to retrieve Sam from his car. After some projectile... we get back to Jimbo's where we leave Sam and make our manly way to cubes.

I take a picture of someone we'd just met in front of a cash machine as well. I don't know why :S

Once in the club we hit the floor and I'm having a great time. As you all know I love to dance, I'm by no means any good but I love nothing more :D

There is a young man on the floor who is not dancing. He's got his shirt off and is oddly hairless. Simo is getting evermore irate with him and is trying to procure sponsorship to justify dropping the fool with an elbow to the head. After some gentle discouragement we avoid a scuffle.

Then we meet Mark's housemate Davide! I've only ever seen the dude in FB pics but I recognise him and get a few pics for posterity. I've not been witness to this before but Swapnal is quite the little mosher. So much so that he's near enough wound up everyone within 2 metre radius of us. Ah a crowd who want nothing more than to kick your ass, just like my glory days X-D

We eventually make it out of there and head for a takeaway. Where we bump into James and David! It is a small world after all :P

As we make our weary way back to Eastbourne street Swapnal insists on dropping his burger! This is a sure sign that we have indeed indulged excessively, the dude can handle his drink. As we approach the door a taxi pulls up, it's the other lot that went off to see Craig Charles, fortuitous timing. We sit around eating burgers and talking business I think. My memory is letting me down as I really can't focus on anything else whilst eating. Pretty sure I ended up getting mayo in my beard, never a good look.

I pop to the toilet and I can hear an argument blazing outside about who'll be sleeping in the spare room. I'm really not that fussed so I grab my gear and set up shop on the couch, after sometime turns out the spare room is still spare so I go to bed. Now I'm not sure if I fell asleep n woke up or if I glanced at my watch as I was falling asleep but it's 06:00!

Round 10:00 I get up with the pizza I didn't eat the night before n sit on the couch recounting all the stuff that has been forgotten. As you may have gathered my memory captures events in enormous detail.

Now for something completely different. Thinking about getting a Dragon ball forever scarred into my forearm.
That's them on the right. Now which one do I go for? Lucky numbers come to mind I have some that I'm struggling to remember why I consider them lucky. There is 22 and 8. 8 is something my gramps read starcharts and came up with but the balls only go from 1 to 7! Dilemma or what!