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.

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?

APRIL DICKHEAD

 

May Already?!
Aight... April nominations.

What d'ya think?

Dickhead Rappers

Deeby was chilin at Chris' when he's Wii U decided to fuck up and forced them to go outside and reap the benefits of that sunny "Beer in the Park" kinda day.

Living in and around Brick Lane has it's perks. Decent curry to start the night, booze up in a bar and hot girls every day. But like Deeby always says... “Fuck Brick Lane on a weekend.” 

"This beard is different 'cos it's mine."

“Original” Bearded hipsters swarm, bare tourists make it impossible to walk through the place and there's always some Dickhead with a stack of CD's tryna sell a mixtape. Heart warming smile from ear to ear, open and welcoming body language, no facial hair... Manipulative prick.

“Ay! Yo! Brudda...!”

It's awkward, Deeby and Chris have managed to walk past this guy.

“Brudda!” He shouts from 6 yards behind us.
That swarm of bearded guys and tourists make it impossible to walk any further.

The kind rapper pats Chris for his attention. “Shit.” he mutters.

“Brudda! How you gonna walk away from a Brudda like that?” he guilt trips...

“Why does he keep saying Brudda?” Deeby thinks to himself.
“You guys like Rap?”
“Here come's the pitch.” Deeby retorts.
“You a rapper?” Trying hard not to be a dickhead, Chris sounds like a top class Dickhead.

“How could you tell?” he says with a wit and charm.

“Everyone's a rapper. WE'RE bloody rappers...” Cool it, Deeby.
“Alright sweet. Lets drop some bars. Here. Now.”
“Only if you're any good.” Chris haggles.

“Deal.”

He drops some of the dopest bars you'll ever hear from a mixtape pusher on the street.
“Now it's your turn...”
You know that moment when someone does what you do so much better than you do and you immediately lose all confidence and question why you ever started doing what you do?

Well, that sorta happened to Deeby and Chris just then. They started spitting. They forgot they bars. They tried free styling. They flopped. Rap Crime #1. They performed it.

Treats 'em right for being such dickheads... Nominated.

Zero Progress Dickhead

You know what?

I think I'll tell you bout this nomination in the form of a Dickhead Poem.

Show Chris and Deeby up...

On the left there... that's Rich.

So there's this girl. She's kinda hot.

And there's this dickhead, who's kinda not.

And this dickhead had made a bet.

Chris reckons he's already in debt.

10 Grand he would have to miss.

If this girl, the Dickhead could not kiss.

2 Years is plenty of time

That kiss would feel sublime

And after the bet was clearly stated

The dickhead got straight up nominated

A Year flew by. The Dickhead looked slick

When Chris facebook raped him and liked all her profile pics.

This game was hilarious. Nothing like chess.

And funnier to know that he'd made Zero Progress.

Unless he pulls out the candle lit dinner and champagne

It looks like Rich might just get nominated again.

Zero Progress?! Dickhead. Nominated.

Who d'you think wins this month?

Dickhead Out

Dickhead Anecdote #15: Cut Out Chris

 

NOTE:: This anecdote is a continuation of the March Dickhead.

It's Cons' Birthday and it's halloween and he throws a house party and it's off the chain. 

Ultraviolet strobe lights, penthouse views and enough drink to drown a fish in.

Rich is the last one to turn up as usual; The boy's gonna be late to his own funeral, he's excuse'll be because he had to feed the cat or something but the truth will be because he desperately needed to finish watching Breaking Bad.

“You're going on the blog for this.” Chris threaten's Rich every time he turns up late for a gathering which means Chris threaten's Rich every time he turns up for a gathering.

Rich had learned to not let the threat get to him anymore. Nominations had to go through the Board of Directors at DOTY and in this moment nobody cared but Chris, everyone else was in awe of Rich's Adam West Batman outfit.

Hats off to him, he was the only one to get a round of applause as he walked through the door.

Later on in the party (but still relatively early, mind you) Chris is sat on the floor with his legs crossed, his head in his hands and his half full drink by his side, half empty if you really want to know how Chirs was feeling at the time. He was waved. Tidal waved, wavier then a Mexican Wave waved. He couldn't hack it no more. He went home.

“Where's Chris?” Rich inquired.
“He cut out.”
“Oi, If I keep getting nominated for turning up late he should get nominated for leaving early.”

I guess Chris' earlier comment got to him after all. Rich had a point though, Chris was the first to leave at many recent events but upon hearing his argument Deeby and Cons turn to each other and share a look that read “This is the perfect opportunity to aggravate Rich.”

“Naaaahhhh....” The two belter simultaneously.

Growing up in Central London, the gang are well aware of how over-rated a news years party on London streets can be and opt for a house party, unwilling to throw one they let Chris lead the way to his friends place whilst promising them that they'll be girls, a bouncy castle and, hold onto your hats, said girls on said bouncy castle. No brainer; Party of the year.

The gang agree to meet at Deeby's and trot together. Rich was late so they met him at the train station.

“You're going on the blog for this.” Chris threatened.

“Your MUM's going on the blog for this.” Rich replied, imaginatively.

It was a long way north on the Northern line and travelling an hour or more to get anywhere was considered really far away for these Dickheads.

“It'll be worth it.” Chris assured everyone.

To kill the time, the gang talk passionately about the amazing year they just had, they ponder who might win Dickhead of the Year and tell each other they love each other whilst ending every sentence with the words #NoHomo.

In that moment their mothers could have asked “If your gang jumped off a cliff would you join them?” and their reply would be “We ride together, we die together. We're the team. The gang. The Dickhead Gang!”

They get to the house party. Meh, there's a couple of girls. Shock Horror. There's no Bouncy Castle.

It's quarter to midnight, room has been made in the living room for a dance floor, nightclub speakers grace the corners and they also have a UV light. It's shit though. Deeby and Cons do everything they can to liven up the party before countdown but not long after they leave, except for Chris of course.

As they scour the streets of London, they turn various enemies into friends, talk to many girls and urinate on many trees (It's the next best thing after bouncy castles), having the time of their lives.

This also happened to be the same night this happened.

“...And Chris aint here.” Rich notes “Nomination?”

“Nah mate.” Cons laughs.

House party was nothing like this...

The gang's manager had organised a photoshoot with a professional photographer and in an attempt to keep himself looking just as professional, he orders the gang to turn up on time. Rich especially, after which the rest of the gang remind him to switch his clock back from Jamaica time.

It's the day of the photo shoot and Rich is on time.... Well, that shut everyone up. It was also a productive day, the crew had managed to stop off at the photographer's desired locations. Well, all except one. The one photo that had been spoken about never happened.

It was to be a gritty image of the gang stood in a shitty council estate whilst London's glorious glass towers, specifically the shard and the gherkin, loomed over them like the Eye of Sauron. A discussion on London's current state of inequality and political unrest. A photograph that could spark another nationwide riot and instigate a revolution.

“Nah, fuck it.” Chris said. “I'm meeting a mate later.” He left.

The gang were left speechless.

“Oi, I turned up on time for this." Rich declared, "Surely, he's going on the blog for this?”

“Yeah probably.” Deeby agreed as they watched him walk away

On the far left... That's Rich.

Top class Dickhead.

MARCH DICKHEAD

Well this is different.
Think this is the first time we've had a group nomination.
5 people nominated for the same random act of “Dickheadness”.

But first...

What's Your Number Dickhead

Dickhead Misleading Stock Photo

Rich is getting nominated for this.

…

Oh you actually wanna KNOW why? Well read on.

Five Guy's Dickhead

Rich, Chris, Deeby, Adam and J-man hit up Five Guys for dinner. 5 guys in Five Guys.

Upon ordering their burgers they quickly find out that Five Guys don't sell Milkshakes in the UK.

“They don't sell Milkshakes? What kind of Burger place doesn't sell milkshakes?!” They protested before scoffing down the best burgers they've ever eaten in their lives. Disappointed that they had no milkshake to wash down their meal, they decided that the burger was also the most over-rated burger they ever ate.

Sippin' on their (Fuckin') soft drinks they notice a corner of the wall covered in child-like crayon drawings. Crayons and A6 pieces of paper are placed beside the wall encouraging all customers to doodle and leave their pictures with members of staff to pin up.

Most of the doodles rave about how amazing Five Guys is (Killer Marketing). The Dickheads decide to join in.

Deeby draws a milkshake and writes #DOTY (Dickhead Marketing).

Chris writes “5 Guys, 1 cup”!

Adam draws a middle finger (a middle finger that looks worryingly phallic) also noting how much he needs a milkshake.

Rich simply writes “Get's some fucking shakes, BITCH!”

J-man being the creative one writes “Want an adventure? Excitement? Intrigue? Call this number...” and jots down Rich's phone number. Rich is getting nominated for not realising.

Here's a game kids, can you find their drawings in this photo?

With no pins to stick their pictures up and too afraid to ask waiters for some, the gang steal pins from other crappy doodles because... dickheads.

Team Feelings Dickhead

One Day J-man decided to send a video in a private message to Deeby, Chris and Cons that read...

“Hey guys, this is the most disgustingly soppy thing I have ever seen. So Con's this one is right up your street (Team feelings ftw.)”

This is said video...

Oh wait.

If you truly want to understand why J-man was nominated you must press play and watch the video in it's entirety and fully immerse yourself in the pointlessness of this experience...

But we strongly advise that you do not.

Why?

Just Why?

Cut Out Dickhead!

Well, this story's getting it's own friggin' anecdote.

Next couple of weeks.
Keep your ears peeled.

Who d'you think wins this month?

Dickhead Out!

Dickhead Of The Year 2014 is...

DICKHEAD OF THE YEAR 2014

And the award goes to...

Yes, it took half of January to get the results in but there's a proper process, you know. Believe it or not we have independent adjudicators that judge each dickhead nomination with meticulous attention and cast their vote accordingly...

Well, don't you wanna know who won each month first? Read on...
(Click on the links to read the full nomination.)

January :: Chris: Pizza Dickhead

February:: Dona: Birthday Dickhead

March:: J-man: Racist Dickhead

April:: Rich: Betting Dickhead #2

May:: Rich: Phone Bill Dickhead

June:: Chris: Sleeping on the Beach Dickhead

July:: Deeby: Sister Dickhead

August:: Rich: Notting Hill Dickhead

September:: Rich: Time Zone Dickhead

October:: Chris: The “I Need Bed” Dickhead

November:: Cons: Elf Dickhead

December:: Chris: Dickhead Home Wrecker

Now, usually the prize goes to the most Dickhead worthy ACT of the year... but being dickhead's themselves, our independent adjudicators decided that by gaining such a high number of nominations, coming joint 1^st in the monthly count and even being the only person nominated in one month (August), Rich was by far the most talented Dickhead to take part in the competition.

Many Congratulations, Rich, Dickhead of the Year 2014.

Dickhead Of The Year 2015 to be revealed this time next year.

December Dickhead!!

IT'S 2015!!

All the Nominations for the 2014 Dickhead of the Year are in..
Well, almost. Don't forget December.
Only one Nomination. Check it.

Dickhead Home Wrecker!

Chris and the members of his Super Smash Bro's Fan Fiction club (I know, right? What a Geek) throw a christmas party. Turns out the sort of people that take part in this club vary from trendy art students to weird middle aged wankers, I mean bankers. 

That one in the middle is doin' yoga

Deeby is enjoying his night elsewhere with the rest of The Dickhead Gang and persistently rings Chris in the hope of getting him to join them. It's midnight when Deeby rings an obviously drunk Chris once more.

“Oi Chris, Where are ya?”
“Bruv.” The word slurred. “Mate, ” He continues to cry. “Aww mate.”

“What's happened?” Deeby asks.

“I got with someone from the club.”

“Yes, Chris!”

“No Deeby!”

“Why? Is she not hot?”

“Nah, she's hot. Really hot. Spanish. Tanned. Talented. An incredible writer...” (Geek), “And she plays Super Smash Bro's...” (Double Geek).

Errr... Wrong game, love.

In their drunken state, their exchange took a left turn as Deeby wanted to get on with his party. As a result, he never found out what Chris was being a baby about. The next day though, hanging like Mofo's...

“Oi Deeby, How was your party?”

“Mate, I'm mashed. Weren't as good as yours though, was it?”
“What? I don't remember anything.” Chris admits.

“Oh Shame,” Deeby chuckles. “Remember anything about making out with a Super Smashing Spanish Sista?”

“What?” Chris suddenly sounded very worried.

“Mate,” Deeby query's “What's wrong with her?”

“Nah, I didn't get with her, I couldn't have got with her.”

“Mate, What's wrong with her?”

“I was probably just drunk and hype when I told you that. I didn't get with her.”

“CHRIS!!”

“She's 40, married and has two kids.”

Is that a PS1?

Deeby let's that sink in...

“Shit, Chris. You're a home wrecker.”

“Nah, I didn't get with her.” Chris insists.

“You're a home wrecker, dude.”

“Trust me, I didn't get with her.”

“Is she hot?”

“Smoking... Fuck My Life. I might have got with her. Next week is gonna be so awkward.”

“Chris, do you remember anything from last night?”

“Very little.”

“Well, you better find out. If you didn't get with her, you're a dickhead for making that shit up, I mean, who does that? If you did, You're a dickhead home wrecker. And I really wanna find out which kind you are.

It's 2015. He never found out, so he's nominated for both.

Have a Dickhead 2015 y'all!!

Results for the 2014 Dickhead of the Year coming soon.

October Dickhead

October went...
And not a single post was written.
We ain't even sorry, Bitches!
October was Dope!

Check Mate Dickhead

Rich’s parents are away, and knowing they would be in advance, Rich decides to throw a house party. “This house party is gonna be sick you know, piff, girls, alcohol” Rich boasts with a grin. The day of the house party finally comes and everyone has been drinking, smoking, chatting – it’s going well so far.

Suddenly, out of the blue, Deeby brings out a chess board which he found in Rich’s house. Then he actually starts PLAYING chess right there and then in the middle of the party.

Chris and Rich are sat at the far end of the room looking at Deeby with dropped jaws. “Bruv I can’t believe this is actually happening. How are they playing chess at my house party! They’re killing the vibe!” as Chris nods in agreement, equally shocked.

 

Chewing Gum Dickhead

J-man is a prick when he is with Sare, no news there. Most of the time Sare is the butt of his jokes, and right now, J-man is probably laughing at the fact that I just called her a “butt”. 

After getting settled with the gang, he produces a pack of chewing gum. No one know's where from, but he does. He opens the pack and pops one into his mouth, as you do. “Want one?” he offers the person to his left, and then to the next, and then to the next. By the time he gets to Sare there are only 2 bits of gum left. “Here you go, Sare.” he says handing her the pack. “Oh gee, thanks.” She's sarcastic. No one knows why.

“Err Jamie,” Chris pries, “Was that Sare's packet of gum you just offered us?” J-man chuckles “Yeah.” “That was unnecessary.”

J-man chuckles “Yeah.”

What a dickhead!

Chyna Porn Dickhead

 

With no official DJ hired for the house party, music was provided via anyone with a phone with access to the internet and that little auxiliary wire that connects your phone to speakers. Naturally requests were coming from all over the room and from various phones. People were using their own phones and people were using other peoples phones. Phones were left vulnerable and not a single frape was made (These dickheads deserve a medal)... but a discovery was. 

As one song was coming to a close on a phone not belonging to Aks, he picks up the phone to find it unlocked and ready for a song change. Whether it had been up on the screen already, or if Aks was in fact attempting to frape said phone or indeed had to actually make the effort to scroll through

it's browsing history to find what he found and would thus make him a dickhead, is irrelevant information. 

“Eurgh!!! Everyone look at this!” Aks exclaims whilst parading the phone about. “Who's phone is this? Who's Chyna? Why are you looking at Porn?” “Oi, that's my phone! What you doing?” demands Rich. With no music blaring, the conversation is had and heard by everyone.

“What's Chyna porn?” Aks asks again.

“Aww, I bet my brother's been through my phone again. Ash, why were you looking at porn on my phone?” He shouts up the stairs, probably inviting unwanted attention. “Rich, who d'you think you're fooling? We all know it was you.”

“Yeah whatever, I was looking at Chyna porn.” He surrenders... instantly.

“Whatever man. Don't look at porn and keep on your phone and then have your phone out at your own house party. That's a dickhead move.” The party warn him, “And watch regular porn, this shit is grim.”

 The picture above. That's Chyna. I know, right? Dickhead!

Boobgrab Dickhead!
 

J-man is a prick when he is with Sar, no news there... 

This one time, right out of the blue, he squeezed her boob whilst simultaneously squeaking...

“Boobgrab!”

...which might have been ok if, when, you're um... Nope. I'm not sure that's ever ok. Dickhead. 

The "I Need Bed" Dickhead

 

If there was a party that the Dickhead Gang could NOT have missed this year, it would have been this one. This wasn't just a friday. This was “Con's 21^st Bday Halloween Special Piff Friday”. A lot of effort had been put into this party and it was all paying off. Halloween decorations adorned the house lit only by UV strobe lighting that lit up glow in the dark stuff. Boys were jamming, Girls were dancing,. It was going down.

Then it hit him. Chris got so waved he had his head in his hands and was contemplating life in the most pitiful of stances. “Nah man,” he says “I need a bed, man” He gets up and shoots off to the nearest bed just as the party was warming up.
To which Cons says “Chris, you just got nominated for Dickhead of the Year.” To which Deeby and Rich think “You know what? Yeah. Chris just got himself nominated...”
By the very Birthday boy host of the very special night... That Chris missed.

Dickhead.

Who d'you think should win this month? Drop a comment below.

Dickhead out.

September Dickhead

September's over already?
Dickhead of the Year 2014 will receive their crown in about 3 months from today.
Mental. So who was a Dickhead in September?
Read on, init!

 

Re-union Dickhead

Earlier in the year, Kris was nominated for this (Click Here). August came and they still hadn't seen her. Dona must've felt bad about it, having Kris nominated for DOTY and everything 'cos she decided to organise a little reunion.
So doubtful that her efforts would be successful, Deeby, Chris and Pao place a bet with her.
“You pull this off, we'll give you a hundred quid. You don't, you give us a hundred quid. Everyone on this list must attend. You have 30 day's from now. Deal?”

“Deal.” Dona agrees.

The next few days was horrible. A barrage of questions about everyones availability, hobbies, interests and dietary requirements spewed out of the little indian like a Brick Lane curry out of Deeby's arse. With 2 days left till the event Dona continues to ask the boys for help organising the meet in between changing the date and time of the event.

On the day a few people arrive on time. Aks is an hour early as Dona failed to keep him up to speed, she then has a full on rant at Deeby like it was his fault and then believe or not.... Turns up late.

Hats off to her, she pulled it off.

But the hassle. Oh God, the hassle.
You're nominated, Dona!

Time Zone Dickhead

Rich lives in his own time zone. The man's gonna be late for his own funeral. Without his knowledge, the rest of the gang had begun using a system to get him where they wanted him, when they wanted him there and without causing themselves any inconvenience. It goes like this.

You say... “Hey Rich, I'll meet you at the station at 6:00”
He replies, “Alright mate, I'll see you there at 6:00.”
You get to the station at 7:00.
He meets you there at 7:02.

He apologises and spews out a couple of excuses, none of which you care about 'cos you always planned to meet him at 7:00 anyways.

Imagine Deeby's surprise when he had gone through the process above only for Rich to still be late.
“I bet you weren't even that busy,” Deeby argued “I bet you was doing something stupid like watching 24.”
Rich laughed “Yeah mate, I was.”
“But that's only like forty five minutes long. You're almost two hours late. It wouldn't make sense, not unless you watched two episodes of 24.”

Rich laughed some more “Yeah mate, I did.”
And the mystery as to why Rich is so late so often is solved.
He's a dickhead.

Big Mouth Dickhead

The Dickhead Gang roll down the streets of East London late on a Friday night 'cos they're hard and they'll have ya. No news there.
In the distance not so far ahead is a couple. A white man who's about seven feet tall and an asian woman who's roughly four feet tall (Height may or may not be exaggerated).
The entire gang notice the odd pairing, it's hard not to. What's easy to do is stay quiet. Their conversation was already stagnant, after all. While everyone else was thinking of ways to progress from the current silence in a humane manner. Chris decided to point them out and say “Errr man, that's some Human Trafficking shit right there.”
No, Chris. You're just a dickhead.

Who d'you think wins this month?

Dickhead out.

Dickhead Anecdote #10: Dam Bitch! (Part 2)

Woah Woah Woah,  wait a minute. If you ain't read Part 1 yet, go read that first. Done? Good.
As you were...

“We've spent 30 minutes in Holland. 20 of those minutes have been sat outside this toilet.” Deeby noted.

“He's definitely taking a shit.” Chris added.

Rich finally steps out of the toilet. Chris and Deeby applaud him. Rich has his hands in the air and his head hung in shame as he admits “I couldn't go, man. That was a lot.”

Chris and Deeby decide its best not to ask what that means and leave the airport.

“It's this train... Yeah, I'm pretty sure, it's this one... And this stop. We get off here... And then we get on this tram... Yep, yep. I definitely recognise this place. Let's get off here...”

“What you getting you camera out for?” Rich protested.

“'Cos we're in Dam, Bitch!” Deeby replied.

“You're pissing me off, we ain't even found a hostel yet, we've been walking about in the rain for hours, I wanna put my bags down and you're taking pictures! Let's find a fucking hostel, man.”
It was an hour or four after Rich humorously lost his shit that the gang finally got settled and found a coffee shop to jam in.

I've got that shirt.

After a zoot and a chat with two bright American girls, the gang finally started to feel like they were on holiday. Not a moment after the girls had left... “Which one would you bang?!” Urges Rich.
It's a legitimate question, just not one that should be asked moments before you spend 20 mins in the bathroom.
“He's not taking another shit, is he?” Deeby asks “He took one earlier.”
Chris pulled his trademark face. It read “That's grim!”

Halfway through another zoot, Rich's phone buzzes. “Awww fuckin' 'ell!” cries Rich.
“What?”
“Just got another message from my auntie”
“So?”
“Brother Richard.” he began “We love you. We care for you. Keep the Devil at bay. May marijuana taste like Bitter Gold. Love auntie. What the fuck, man? I bet my mum told her to send me that. You two have no idea how lucky you are not to have parents on your back all the time.”

“I hear that,” Deeby agreed “And what are you doing? You've been on your phone for ages.”

“I just wrote a poem.” Chris explained.
“What?”
“Yeah, bruv. Just wrote a poem.”
Rich and Deeby burst into laughter. Rich, the first to gather his thoughts, eloquently says... “You're fucked, mate.”

How have they scored so many goals? ...And why haven't I cut my hair yet?

“We get to watch the World Cup in a foreign land.” Rich was excited, this was half his reason for visiting Amsterdam in the first place. “Germany vs Brazil today. Argentina vs Holland tomorrow. Yeeeeeah boy!” With him building so much hype, it came as a massive surprise when at half time of the Germany/Brazil game (Germany being 5-0 up), Rich decides to pack it in and pass out! Gone. Fully asleep. “He's supposed to be the heavyweight.” Deeby clarified.

Chris laughs... “Dickhead of the year goes to...!”

Chris' Poem: Poetry

Is a poem when you're high really a poem.
Perhaps instead it is a Vision. Into the soul.
Being high is like a poem.

Poetry. 

Dam Bitch!
Part 3 coming soon.

Dickhead Anecdote #9: Dam Bitch! (Part 1)

“Just imagine undressing her down to her golden-laced thong... hidden amongst the stretch marks wrapped around her wrinkly and royal waist. Her boobs are soft and saggy but her nipples are interestingly hard. Oh and she's still wearing her crown 'cos then otherwise what's the point.”

Apparently, a 6 hour journey with Chris and Deeby can get so boring, the only interesting conversation left to be had is what it might be like to have sex with the queen.

“You'd have to stick a hoover or a duster up there first,” Rich continues “There's probably more cobwebs up there than in my attic.”

Deeby's close to vomiting, but Rich is getting a kick out of that. Until they had landed in mainland Europe, things weren't plain sailing for Rich.

Dayum Phillip!! Who's your friend?

The night before the flight, Rich's mum had him sat in the living room and was close to performing an exorcism (The previous exorcism had obviously not worked, but that's for another anecdote).
“The power of Christ compels you, Rich. The power of Christ compels you. May the devil leave your soul. May your holiday in Amsterdam be full of pain and anguish... And I pray the Weed tastes like Bitter Gold. Bitter Gold. BITTER GOLD!”

“Shit boy!” Say's Chris “Your mum weren't fucking around. That's a serious prayer.”
“I know, man. You two have no idea how lucky you are not to have parents on your back about it all the time.” For once, Rich was making sense. Chris and Deeby didn't bother arguing. “Anyways, back to the real problem,” He continued “Scope the place out, there must be a way.”

They were now at Southend airport. Rich was looking for “loopholes” in the airports security. “How to smuggle weed back into the UK?” No one had any real intention of doing so, it's just a question pondered by pretty much everyone that visits Amsterdam. No sharp objects, no explosives and No liquids, “Which is just as well,” Rich thought “They wouldn't be any help if you plan on smuggling back any ganja, if you know what I mean... I mean weed... You know, MARIJUANA.”
“Bloody 'ell, Rich. Would you keep your voice down. We're about to get our bags checked.” Deeby protested. He gives him a hand and puts Rich's bag in the tray.
“What's in your bag your, Rich? It's well heavy.”
“Oh yeah, I packed some Whey Protein Powders and other such products.” Rich says candidly.

“Why the fuck would you pack Whey Protein Powders?”
“Mate, don't grill me about this now. I think I'm still a little bit high.”
“Alright alright,” Deeby settles “Lets just get through security. We've got nothing to worry about anymore.”

Protein Powder. No Coke. Me Swear.

Chris and Deeby watch Rich wrangle with security from a distance as they empty the contents of his bag.
“No liquids, Rich. How hard is that?” Chris thought aloud. “That's the biggest bottle of Mouthwash I've ever seen. It would probably double as a flammable.”

“This is actually really funny to watch,” Deeby added “He really doesn't need this right now. He's still really high.”

“He's always high. I bet he was high when he packed.”

“We're not even in Amsterdam yet.” Deeby noted.
Chris laughs... “Dickhead of the year goes to...!”



Dam Bitch!
Part 2 coming soon.

Dickhead anecdote 8: Freshers

Freshers. A huge student night out. Everyone’s bought a ticket. It’s gonna be a MAD one.
You wouldn’t want to flop this kind of night out, would you? Well four Dickheads flopped left, right and centre. See how below:

Chris: No entry Dickhead

Pre-drinks for this kind of night out are a must... and they’re even better if you play a drinking game. The lads decide to play The Call of Duty (COD) drinking game. Here's the rules, a swig of beer every time you die, and two if you get stabbed. Unfortunately, Chris isn’t very good at the game…. He dies…. A LOT. 

Call of Duty: Classic Pissheads

POW, skip to a few hours later and Chris is excitedly jumping over one of the barriers to queue at the club. “You ain’t getting in, mate” says the bouncer. To make things worse, jumping the barrier wasn’t even necessary – Nobody was even in the queue yet! Dickhead!

Pao: KO’d Dickhead

Pao gets in to enjoy the night out, but not for very long! He gets into a fight he doesn’t even remember and is sent home in a taxi with a bloody nose. To this day he doesn’t remember what happened. Maybe he tried to move to someone’s girl? Maybe he spilt someone’s drink? Maybe he’s just a dickhead!

Bradley: Walking home Dickhead

Bradley notices that all his friends are gone! Chris didn’t get in and Pao disappeared, what’s the next logical thing to do? Go home. Walk. Why not? Makes sense. At least, it would if Bradley’s home was anywhere remotely near the club! This night out was in Hertfordshire and Bradley lives in London. Casually and drunkly walking along the motorway, Bradley truly believes he’ll get home. The police see him, stop him and escort him back to Pao’s house. Dickhead!

Meanwhile, Bradderz is like...

J: Window Dickhead

Props to J, he manages to stay in the club for the whole night. When it was clear Chris was never gonna get into the night of a lifetime, J gave Chris his home key. Of course, Chris decides to complicate matters by hitchhiking in someone else’s taxi and staying at another friend’s house. With Pao knocked out and unlikely to wake at the sound of a nuclear bomb and Bradley still experiencing his run in with the police, J is oblivious when he knocks on his front door as to why no one is answering.

J panics, how the hell is he going to get in? Simple: He jumps over the fence to the backyard, gets the ladder in the garden, climbs up to Pao’s window and….. REMOVES THE ENTIRE WINDOW. Literally, pulls the window out of it’s frame, climbs in and to goes to bed.

Yep, Pao sleeps through it all!

Dickhead, dickhead, dickhead aaaand Dickhead.

Dickhead out.