AUGUST DICKHEAD (Part 3)

Oh, you didn't know a Round 3 was coming?
Alright, go on remind yourselves what happened.
Part 1 here and Part 2 here.
Go on then read on...

Playground Dickhead

Look, Chris dressed up and everything.

Notting Hill Carnival is an amazing place. Buses become sound systems on wheels, cops become dance partners, and these guys, well, these guys become Dickheads. I hope you ain't forgotten what Rich did this time last year.

As soon as these guys jumped off Notting Hill Station, they started hitting the drinks. Sainsbury's Basics Malted Scotch Whiskey was the poison of choice on that rainy bank holiday. Chris planned on getting drunk beyond comprehension, he must have been, just before backing his first shot he pauses to make Deeby and Rich say these words...

“Chris, no matter how fucked you get today, I will make sure you get home safe and I will not leave you, I promise.”

For the record, Sainsbury's Basics Malted Scotch Whiskey tastes horrendous, nevertheless, Chris backed most of it before 2:00.

Beyond the usual drunken walking, drunken dancing and drunken “I love you man” statements, it soon became apparent. "Chris. You're drunk beyond comprehension." Deeby would exclaim. Chris would chuck on his shades in a "Deal with it" fashion. Raybans. Two hundred quid. The Showoff.
Chris' first low moment came when the gang decided to stop marauding girls dressed as peacocks for five minutes and have a sit down.

In a similar vein to Cons' nomination earlier this month, they were on a bench in a children's playground. Chris has tonnes of energy so he attempts to befriend complete strangers. He gives them the middle finger as they walk away. He has a go on the monkey bars, then he's disappointed 'cos he's way too tall. He finds logs sprouting out of the floor for children to use then he pretends to hump one.

Yes, there's video evidence. No, you can't see it because, yes, it's way too NSFW for this website.

CUT OUT Dickhead

It's a habit. A bad habit. One that's got him nominated before. The habit has its own friggin' anecdote. But no one expected it to happen at the Notting Hill carnival and certainly not like this.

Jungle is Massive!

Chris was spinning faster that the turn table and General Levy was describing his world.

“Wicked. Wicked. Jungle is Massive!”

...And packed full of people it looked like. Once you were in the heart of the crowd, moving anywhere else was a bit of a challenge. When you're drunk beyond comprehension, personal space doesn't exist and moving about is easy.

Knocking, thumping and bumping his way through the labyrinth of flesh and concrete, Chris gets comfortable swaying sideways like a toddler figuring out how to dance. Deeby and Rich are going ham.

Deeby was wearing Chris' shades and treating them like they were his.  When they weren't on his face they were hung from his collar. When they weren't on his collar they were hung from his mouth. When they weren't in his mouth they were on the face of some random he decided to grind with.

And then, of course, the stupidly inevitable happened. He dropped them. No hanging about, he lunges to pick them up. Inches away from reaching it, some raver kicks them away. Deeby chases after it only to find himself slouched in front of Chris.

“Huh?” Chris wonders he's doing down there. “NO!” Chris figured out what he's doing down there. Another raver kick the shades further away. They chase it. Knocking, thumping and bumping their way through the labyrinth of flesh and concrete, eyes glued to the shades, they eventually merge into the landscape of muddy Air Max's, Vans and Converses.

Chris weren't taking this well, he really liked those glasses. Deeby gave up looking for them after 10 mins. Rich joined in for a little while. Chris was at it for an hour. Rich is blaming it on the Sainsbury's Basics Malted Scotch Whiskey.

Deeby, beyond apologetic, did not expect to see them again. Shock horror; Chris found them. Like they should have expected, Chris found them in pieces. After making several attempts to runaway and be alone, Chris was sat weeping about them for another hour... it became evident his mission was accomplished. Chris was drunk beyond comprehension.

Drunk beyond comprehension

Concerned that he may never get over them, Rich and Deeby bump into old friends and say a quick hello. They turn back to see Chris' latest attempt to runaway and be alone had been successful.

“Where'd he go?”
“Fuck knows. Ring him.”

“I can't my phone's outta juice.”

“So's mine.”

“I had my eyes off him for 10 seconds... if that.”

“We broke our promise, bro.”

“Did we break our promise... Or did Chris cut out?”

Chris Cut Out... The Dickhead.

AUGUST DICKHEAD (Part 2)

Ready for Round 2?

What's that? You missed round 1?
Go on, check it out... I'll wait...
...

You Back?

Sweet, read on.

Piggy Back Dickhead

So Deeby has this habit of jumping onto Cons' for a piggy-back and trying to hitch a free ride. It bothers Cons and rightly so. Carrying Deeby around is a real chore and since Deeby is always jumping at him from behind, it means Cons never has the time to react and avoid it happening.

“You should do it back.” Someone mentions as a joke.
It's a joke because Deeby's 5'9 and Cons is 6'3. It's a joke because Deeby's skinny as hell and Cons' is a built gym freak. It's a joke 'cos Cons is The Hulk and Deeby's, well, Deeby's a joke. I don't think Cons got the joke.

Walking home after that beer in the park kind of day, Cons jumps onto the back of Deeby. Deeby almost loses balance but he's ok “Gotta be prepared to get as much as you give,” he thinks to himself “I'll piggy-back him for a few yards”. Only the moment after saying so, he feels shaking on his back.

“Err Cons?” Deeby starts “What are you doing?”

Cons giggles quietly.

“You should probably stop doing that.” The Instigator interjects.

“What are you doing?”

Cons continues to ignore him.

Rich looks on, cringing.

“Rich, what is he doing?” Deeby was getting impatient.

“He's dry humping you, bro.”

“Nah man!” Deeby screams as he drops Cons

Cons is in hysterics laughing to himself; He thought it was a joke. He just got nominated.

JD Dickheads

So Cons throws a house party and everyone brings their own drinks. Standard. Rich had a bottle of JD amongst his beers. Unfortunately, he never got round to finishing that JD and went home leaving it half drunk in Cons yard.

"Before I leave, brush my teeth, with a bottle of jack..."

A few weeks pass and Rich has the gang at his place to watch a football game and chill. He asks Cons to bring the half drunk bottle with him. “Not a problem.” Cons answers. Only, it is a problem 'cos Cons has no idea where that bottle's gone.
On the way to Rich's, empty handed, Deeby argues with him. “You drank it, didn't you?”

“Nah, man. I didn't drink it.”

“'Course you did. You had your girlfriend over. Candle lit dinner. Chucked on Netflix. Finished your Pinot Noir then thought 'We need more drink.' Am I right?”

“That does sound like something I would do.” Cons thought. “I don't remember doing that though.”

“You must have got mad wasted if you're not remembering shit. Lets just buy him another drink. No biggie. Look here's an iceland.”

…

“He had a JD,” Con's reminded himself, “The most expensive bottle in here £7.”

“Seriously pushing the boat out aren't we.”

“There's not much of a selection here.”

“Fuck it, it's Rich. He won't care. Just pretend that one of you're rich clients decided to give to you as a 'Thank You' present. Pretend it costs like a hundred quid. He'll buy it as well. Just do it.”

“Deeby. You're a terrible person.”

Knock Knock.

“Did you finish my JD, you dick?” Rich was happy to see them.

“Well, we got you something else to make up for it,” Cons turned to Deeby hesitant. Deeby nudged him on “...I got this from work. Only the finest in all of brown alcohol to ever exist.”

“What?”
“E&J Brandy. Go on try some of that and tell me you don't like the taste.”

Rich looked impressed as he pretended to enjoy the sip he took, clearly sold by the hype.
He'd been drinking for half an hour before clarifying “Present from a client, was it?”

“Yeah mate.”

Rich took another sip as he studied the bottle.

“Your clients loaded, are they?”
“More money than sense, bro.”

Rich was impressed further.

“This costs a hundred pound, does it?” Rich asked. Cons' nod was sheepish. “ It don't taste like a hundred pound.”

“Mate, we're fucking with ya.” Deeby admitted.

“You man are taking me for a mug.” Rich exclaimed.

He's right. They were. Dickheads.

Handsfree Dickhead

Late in an empty East London park. Deeby, Rich, Cons and Adam stand in a circle, have a chinwag and blaze a zoot.

If you were in this situation and needed to take a whiz most people would leave the zoot in the possession of who ever had it, walk to the nearest bush or tree and then have a little tinkle.

Not Cons, he waited 'till the zoot was in his mouth. With his back to the crew, he takes two, I repeat TWO, strides, whacks his piece out and empty's the rod. He rejoins the crew only to be met with eyes full of disapproval and shaking heads.

“What?”

“You gonna wash your hands before you pass that?” Deeby asked.

“I don't need to wash my hands,” Cons argued “I went handsfree.”

“Handsfree?”

“Look.

Cons unzipped his flies, reached for his dick and the boys turned their heads in anticipation of the horrendous. Obviously offending, Cons put the piggy away.

“I'm not sure how many lines you just crossed.” Adam stated.
“I'm pretty sure everything he did just now is the reason the word 'Dickhead' was invented.” Well said, Rich.

... Hold on.
There's a part 3 coming up.
Next couple of weeks, my friends.

AUGUST DICKHEAD (Part 1)

Yeah, you read that right.
So much dickhead shit went down in August.
Which means we're doin' these blogs in parts.
 

Dickhead Photographer

It was a classic dickhead “Beer in the park” kind of day. Drinks, girls and a football. Summer in London is gorgeous. It was in that moment that life was made. Sat in a circle in the middle of the park, the crew ate drank and got merry. A little too merry maybe.

Note: Never google "Voyeur Photography"

Sat on the floor with his elbows rested on his knees and his phone in his hands, Rich was quiet. One would assume he was just sending a text.
FLASH. FLASH.

The back of the phone was pointed at Nads. She had to ask. “Dude, did you just take a picture of me?”

''Err no.” Rich denied quickly

“Liar.” Cons confirmed even quicker.

“Everyone just saw you, bro” Deeby added.
Rich quickly takes another photo.
“It was a picture of The Instigator.” Rich shows him.
“Sorry Rich, not foolin' me.”

“It was for snapchat.” Rich argued.

“Oh we all know it was for the wank bank.”

Nads shuddered, “Errr Thanks, Deeby.”

Then there was a pause.

“Well, this is awkward.” Adam added, “Nomination?”

Read our minds.

Dickhead Dona... Again.

Dropped your Ice Cream?

So like this occasion and this occasion Dona attempted to organise a catch up with the crew. Conscience of the fact that she might end up being nominated if she screwed up, she was determined to prove to everyone that she CAN organise a simple meet up and that deep down, she really DOES care about her friends.

Only... It finally hits 4:00 on that sunny august Saturday and she never got round to inviting Aks 'cos she'd assumed that Deeby would do it since they're brothers. Aware of her tendencies to take the lazy way out, Deeby says “No. You're doing this. 'Cos you're a man.” She's not... for the record.

Outside the Ice Cream place is Chris and Pao. Deeby never turned up, he got the feeling Dona would flop. Dona wasn't there. She was mad late.

Chris had sat in silence shooting Dona evils over his bowl of melted Ice Cream. Getting uncomfortable, she chose to engage in small talk. 

“You haven't touched your food.”
“How are you gonna be an hour late for an event YOU organised?” Chris flipped.

“Oh c'mon, I said I'm sorry already.”

“This happens too often, Dona. There's gotta be a line somewhere.” Pao was good cop.

Dona gandered at her watch and sighed. “I wish I could make it up to you but I gotta go.”
“WHAT?!” Chris flipped, “You just got here.”

“I have to be a party to be at.” Dona implored.

“That explains why your face is powdered in make up and why you were late.” Pao noted.

“PARTY?! This IS your party.”

“There's only three of us, dude.” Pao added.

Dona stood to leave, clasped her hand on his chin, glanced at him through her sad eyes, eyes that said “I'm sorry.”

Chris looked deep into her eyes, to him her eyes read “Suck my dick.” She's not got one... for the record.

...And then she left. Dickhead.

“This your drink?” Dickhead

Drink Responsibly.

Wanda and Chlo have rolled with the gang on many occasions. They know how the Dickheads roll. Bad behaviour gets you named and shamed. Nonetheless, she saw the opportunity and she took it.

Deeby's yard was rammed. Successful house party.

Those who make it past 3am are usually faced with an unfortunate realisation.

“This beer yours?” Wanda asks the nearest stranger. He shakes his head. “Beer? This anyone's beer?” Ignored, she shrugs and reaches for the bottle opener.

“If you're gonna get a white wine get a Moscato, It'd be perfect for a time like this.” Adam, the Dickhead's wine connoisseur was educating Chlo. “You said you like fruity wine, right?”

“Yeah. Is it sweet?” Chlo was interested.

“Sometimes. It's more Musky.”

“Whoever's Hennessey’s this is... I'm nicking a bit.. Is that OK?” Wanda didn't get a reply. “Awesome, thanks.”

“Are you supposed to have it with food?”
“Actually, it doesn't pair well with food,” Adam informed “Which is why I like it. Just drink and get fucked.”

“You're very cultured, aren't you?” Adam blushes and accepts the compliment. “So what's that you're drinking now?” Chlo wonders.

“Lambrini.”

Wanda see a little bottle of red on the kitchen counter. She picks it up, raises it in the air and opens her mouth to make an announcement. It's clear no one is going to pay her attention. “Fuck it.” She thinks to herself. “I'm drinking from the bottle.”

“I cant believe I finished my drinks already?” Chlo wondered. “I could have sworn I had more.”

Sufficiently inebriated, she decides to stop complaining.

“Hey guys, what are we talking about?” Wanda butts in.

“There's my wine!” Chlo shouts in shock, loud enough for most people to hear over the music.

The drunk crowd “Oooh” and “Aaaah” like a live audience out of a sitcom in an attempt to add fuel to the fire.

“But... but.. I've been drinking everyone's drink.”

The drunk crowd “Aww” and “Boo” like they were watching a pantomime. Adam shakes his head at her... “Don't admit it, you Dickhead.”

Nominated.

Be sure to keep your eyes peeled.
Part 2 coming soon.

Dickhead out.

JULY DICKHEAD

Is it August already?
Alright then.
Here's a couple of things that happened in July.

Lost in Dam Dickhead

So it's the first night of the Dickhead's Annual Adventure's in Amsterdam. With Chris being a Cut Out and Rich Cutting out (Yes, there's a difference) it was up to Cons, Deeby, Kai, Adam and The Instigator to turn shit up.

Straight off the plane and into a coffee shop. Hostel was booked in advance, no need to rush (Unlike the 10pm curfew set by that prick Erika from AirBnB. That story's here). Navigating yourself through a major city in a different country shouldn't be met with so much confidence, especially when said country has legalised substances such as psilocybin and you're the dickhead munching 'em like Nik-Naks.

Deeby's been here twice before, “It's no biggie” he thinks to himself but they've circled the Ajax Stadium three times now. Still lugging about their luggage and staring at the screenshot off of google maps on an iPad at one in the morning... some might say these tourists were vulnerable.

Zoot in the mouth, couple shots in the liver, nobody know's which way is up... Deeby would say these tourists were invincible.

No. Really. These guys were lost.

“THIS WAY!” Deeby commands.

“Nope, we've been following your directions for an hour. I'm done.” The Instigator had enough.

“Correction, that friendly driver's directions.”
“Not being funny, but he's banged up Peugeot was missing a head light, it smelt like it had a dead body in the back and the guy tried reaching for Adam's iPad.”

Adam snatched his iPad back rapid.

15 minutes later, checked in and cosy. Deeby's penny dropped. 

“I just realised, that dickhead in the car pointed us in the wrong direction.” 

“I just realised,” Adam retorted, “You're probably gonna get nominated.”

He weren't wrong.

Deeby's Dickhead Statement

Beer in the park kinda day. The gang are out and about. Brick Lane to Bethnal Green, Bethnal Green to Vicky Park. They chat shit, smack talk and make too many not so politically correct jokes. Also Deeby was giving people wet willies that day. Sneaking up behind Cons, he charges at the unsuspecting victim with a lionesses prowess. Ready... Set... ATTACK!!

But Cons was ready. He ducks for dear life and swipes away Deeby's arm with Tai Chi finesse!

“Allow it, Deeby! Why are you always trying to give someone a wet willy? I bet that's what you like to do. I bet that's what gets you off in your fantasies. You walk about town getting orgasms from sticking your wet fingers in their ears. I bet you stick your finger up your arse hole first n'all.”

Quite proud of himself, Cons decided to repeat that last line once or twice more.

“Yeah.. haha. You stick your finger up, find your g spot, give it wriggle, then stick your finger in your mouth AND THEN stick your finger in their ear. You're grim man.”

Ok maybe four or five more times. Who'd have known... Deeby flipped out!

“YEAH! THAT'S WHAT I DO. I STICK MY FINGER UP MY ARSE, THEN I PUT IT IN MY MOUTH, THEN I STICK IT IN YOUR EARS!!”

Besides the fact that that was such a dickhead statement to make. To scream it out in anger so that people up in Mare St could hear ya was beyond the dickhead decibel count. You're getting Nominated.

Cons Dickhead Statement

After the madness that ensued over Deeby's last statement had diffused, Cons decided to put a full stop to the situation with this one sentence.

“Deeby would stick shit into a jap's eye.”

What? Kmt. Dickhead.


Grad Party Dickhead

New Dickhead to tell ya about today.

Technically not a member of the Dickhead Gang, she's hung out with the crew enough times to warrant a nomination if deserved and well, here's her story.

Gronz just graduated. “Well done and all that,” Chris began, “When's the grad party?”

She wasn't really planning on throwing a party but dickhead's know how to peer pressure.
“Fuck me, I've gotta throw a party now.” She thinks to herself in an irish accent; She's Irish. “Nah, I'd rather go out.”

The pre-drinks at was at her place then. The kitchen and living room were packed, bowl of punch on the table, is that a cake? She's done this before. Or so she would have us believe.

“Chocolate?” asked Chris.
“What?” Gronz was baffed.
“The Cake.”
“Oh,” Gronz nudged nudged and winked winked. “That's a 'special' cake!”
“Yep.” “Send me some of that.” “And me!” … The gang grab a slice each. Only one, though. They were gonna go out, remember? Gronz was thinking differently, though.
“I've had a couple of slices but I cant feel anything.” she admitted.
“Oh no, don't do that.” Chris says with very little urgency as she scoffs down three more slices.

The night out was incredible. Mans got wasted. Girls got pulled. Girls got wasted. Mans was fooled. They laughed. They drank. They were merry.
Well, I say “they”. Not Gronz. Them five slices hit her in five minutes and she was out for five hours.

It was HER bloody graduation party n'all and now she's just graduated into Dickhead of the Year.
The Dickhead.

Who d'you think wins this month?

JUNE DICKHEAD

 Is it July, yeah?
The Dickheads are supposed to be in Amsterdam this month.
Well, until August. Here's what happened in June...

Stick Fight Dickhead

It's that beer in the park kind of day and the Dickheads are chillin' by the lake. Kai picked up a stick. It's about 60cm tall and an inch in diameter, brown and hails from a chopped down tree near Canary Wharf.

Gandalf be like "I got the Magic Stick!"

“Oi C'mon on then. I'll take on any of you mans init.” He exclaimed.

The instigator scans the floor real quick and finds his weapon.

“Alright then. Let's go, you Dunce!” The instigator was ready.

“On three,” Umpire Cons declared. “1... 2...” Swing. Crack. Well, that was quick. The instigator was terminated. His stick, obliterated.

“I'm next.” Competitive Cons leapt to his feet and studied the edge of the lake. There was a variety of sticks and it quickly became obvious The Instigator's didn't spend enough time looking for a decent stick.

Kai's next contender was the branch of a young Beech tree, commonly found in and around London but most prominent in St Paul; They are well known for their skin like smooth bark making them difficult to chip. Smart choice, Competitive Cons. “On three!” ditto'd Deeby, “1... 2...” Swing.

“You're shit!” Deeby wasn't very good at consolation, “Go on then, I'll batter you!”

Deeby was Cardiff stick fight champion of 2013. His stick was a one and half metre branch called MoonWhisper and for all you stat fans, it remained undefeated for a whopping 12 fights before J-man snapped it with his knee and called Deeby gay for naming it.

“On three, then?” The Instigator started the countdown. “1... 2...” Smack.
Both sticks survived the first hit.

“Round two,” the Instigator persevered, “1... 2...” Crack. They both swore they could've heard some damage but both sticks looked perfectly intact. This suddenly got very interesting.

“Again. 1... 2...” SHNAP!! It was now in two. One half in his hands, the other half on the floor.

“Here. Hold the stick of a real champion.”
Deeby grabbed it and threw it in the lake.
Kai called him a sore loser.
We call him a Dickhead.

AirBnB Dickheads

Now you might remember last year; Chris was on a roll being a Dickhead in Amsterdam. He wrote a poem about poetry after getting high (Read here). 

Trying to get The Dickhead Gang to organise a lads do took blood, sweat and tears but they were using WhatsApp. Looking for an apartment, Deeby finds an MTV Cribs-like mansion in Dam Central. 10 Beds, Balconies overlooking the city and a jacuzzi. A fucking Jacuzzi.
“Costs an arm and a leg but who doesn't want a Jacuzzi?” Deeby thought, “I'm bookin' it!” And so he put down the deposit.

“Aww, you done all that?” Kai complained.
“What?!” Deeby retorted.

“Costs an arm and a leg, don't it?!”

Their flight was in four days and the gang were still having hang ups about where to sleep.

The Instigator saved the day. He found the gang a different MTV Cribs-like apartment. Maybe not as many beds but there were extra sofa's and the gang agreed, without him knowing, that they looked like the perfect size for Rich.

To save himself from looking like a complete tosser, The instigator thought it'd be best to show the apartment to the gang, with all it's grandeur panache and grandeur prices, BEFORE putting down a deposit.

“Bruh, that's kinda cheap, you know.” Rich noted.

“Yeah. And those rooms are immense.” Cons added.

“Air BnB are legit too,” Chris said, “I think you should get it.”

“Sweet,” The Instigator thought, “Deeby?”

“But.... But the jacuzzi, Bro.” Deeby sobbed.

“No one wants a jacuzzi, man.”

“Fine,” Deeby deflated. “Lets stay at this place.”

The Instigator took charge, he spoke with a friendly girl named Erika and everyone sent him their money.

Then they never heard from Erika again.

“If it's too good to be true, it probably is.” says The Dickhead Gangs Independent Adjudicator.
Dickheads lost a Jacuzzi.
They're all Nominated.

Cut Out Dickhead

Now you might remember last year; Rich was on a roll being a Dickhead in Amsterdam. He missed London so much he started fantasizing about the Queen (Swear down).

Trying to get The Dickhead Gang to organise a lads do took blood, sweat and tears.

A night before the flight Rich Cut Out.

“Aww, you done all that?”

Dickhead!!

Who d'you think's the biggest Dickhead this month?