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.”
“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.
