Birthdays and pikey weddings! Dontcha love em?

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Bugsy, Jul 25, 2006.

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  1. I attended the 95th birthday party of one of my aunties recently, and a right geriatric do it turned out to be. My big fat ‘orrible brother was also there with his group, but if they thought they were going to play a normal gig they were pulled back down to earth by the turn of events. They did a few old soul and R & B numbers, but when they wanted to continue in that vein, all the old folks gave them the slow handclap. They must have felt like “Phoney Tony” at the Women's Institute. So the rest of the evening was accompanied by shite like “Roll Out The Barrel” and “Won’t You Come Home Bill Bailey” and other stuff like that dating from the time just after Harold got the arrow in his eye.

    The absolute highlight of the evening for me was when they dragged out the birthday cake. It was gigantic, so big they had to wheel it out on a trolley. Well, I assume it had to be that size to accommodate all the candles. It’s a good job we weren’t celebrating al fresco, because I’m sure the next passing Boeing 747 would have dropped its undercarriage thinking it was already at Shannon International.

    But then came the big moment when this little old lady had to blow out all the candles. I was already richly stoned by that time, of course, since it was the only reasonable way to get through the evening, and the sight of my old auntie huffing and puffing at this sort of mini forest-fire in front of her had me in stitches. It really cracked me up. In addition, Ken, the drummer, had decided to lead off in a big drum-roll as a sort of dramatic accompaniment to the big moment. And this drum-roll just went on and on and on, as my old auntie tried in vain to extinguish this mat of burning wax on the top of the cake. Of course, Ken had committed himself by then, so he had to continue with it, otherwise he would’ve ruined the whole thing. In the event, I did the ruining because I was laughing so much. It was like a Monty Python sketch.

    My mean and vindictive relatives retaliated by refusing to give me a piece of the cake, but I got my own back by secretly spiking the big punchbowl with four bottles of vodka I found. I added a big bottle of blackcurrant squash to mask the taste a bit, and after about half-an-hour people were starting to fall all over the place and argue with each other. All in all, it was a typical family get-together.

    I can only remember one party that was worse than that, and that was when my pikey mate Mark got married. His family and the pikey family of his wife had never really got along with each other and the marriage was supposed to cement them together, much the same as royal families used to do it in the past (or still do it now, for all I know).

    The do was at a big pub in a place called Yardley somewhere in the Midlands, and it was surprisingly peaceful, with everybody doing their best not to spoil the couple’s big day; until it came time to go home. Everybody had ordered taxis, of course, because they were all p1ssed out of their minds, but everybody knows what it’s like trying to get a taxi at two o'clock on a Saturday morning. We were all standing around on the car-park in a big crowd and when the taxis started to arrive in dribs and drabs, the arguments about who had ordered which one started almost immediately and in no time at all the fists and boots were flying.

    At the sight of all this sudden mayhem, the taxi-drivers fücked off, and I suppose you can’t really blame them. There were at least a dozen fights going on all over the pub car-park with shouts of: “Don’t you punch my wife, you bästard”, "I’ll kill you, you fücker”, etc. In my “intellectually detached” state, the whole thing reminded me of a battle scene I once saw in “Richard III”, since a few of the combatants had ripped lengths of wood out of the fencing and were belabouring each other with them. I suppose their swordsmanship would have been better if they hadn’t been so p1ssed, although one of them, in spite of being legless and who turned out to be an exponent of Kendo as a hobby, was making a very effective job of laying out the opposition. At first, I thought it was because he had the longest piece of wood, but after watching him for a while, it became apparent that he really knew what he was doing. He looked like a Samurai with a gigantic sword six foot long and four inches wide.

    I suspect the taxi-drivers gave the nod to the Old Bill, because they arrived with a couple of “Follow Me” cars and one Paddy-wagon. But they obviously decided that one wasn’t going to be enough and radioed for reinforcements. The opposing forces saw them coming and niftily formed a coalition against them. That’s when the battle spilled out into the road and stopped the bit of traffic that was around at that time of the morning. In the end, we were all thrown in the chokey overnight, but even there the punch-ups continued. What a fücking night that was!

    The unfair thing was that I wasn’t involved in any of the fighting anyway; firstly, because I was much too stoned and; secondly, because I wasn’t even sure who belonged to which faction. But I still got bundled into one of the Paddy-wagons, along with all the rest of the lunatics. Fortunately, in the confusion of trying to get fifty or sixty drunks into the cells, the Old Bill forgot to search us, so I was still totally stoned when they released us the next morning.
     
  2. It sounds like my kind of party...where was my invite??? :x
     
  3. Is there a shorter version of this post with less words in? the start seems good but i really cant concentrate on anything this long?? make it into two or three bugsy will ya? or only girls will read it and i think as i scanned it i might have even seen a ref to a man with a stick!
     
  4. On Saturday night some eejit arranged to let our village community centre to a Pikey clan for the Pikey chieftain's 50th birthday. It was mayhem!

    I was just finishing a quiet chat in my local when one of the bar maid's appeared somewhat distressed. The pub was providing the outside bar for the dirty thieving pikey sods' do and it was all going a bit Pete Tong. The three eighteen (-ish) year old staff were being had over big style by the conniving lying gyppo b'tards.

    As this was on my way home and frankly I'll fight anyone for a pound I thought I would add my presence to assist the closing of the bar. As self-appointed canteen cowboy I had the pleasure of facing down a hundred and fifty pikeys armed merely with a metaphorical swagger stick. It took me back to seeing off the MUD and HOS - except then I had Warrior-borne infantry back-up and a Browning. All I had on Saturday was a kind of buzzing, humming sense of my superiority to the drunken assemblage of bare-knuckle fighting, car thief, lower biological order specimens.

    Once I'd cleared the hall, we then had to get the drink from the bar area to the van and back to the pub securely. The evening turned into a command task, with security issues. it was pure enjoyment. not least was the pleasure of going eye-ball to eye-ball with the Crown Prince Pikey and laughing in his face as he tried EVERYTHING short of throwing the first punch to get a scrap on. Cnut. Which interestingly is what he called me, several times. However I am now a grown up and just smiled at him.

    Well pikeys being pikeys, they tried to breach my cordon, steal bottles of spirits (oh the look on their faces when I just took it back from them...priceless!) and intimidate the young bar-girls but I exuded an aura of professional calm that night. My wife always says I missed my generation but I tell you this, if Saturday night was anything to go by Khartoum would not have fallen - NOT on my watch - and we would have got the column away from Isandlwhaha too!!!
     
  5. Nice one, Cuddles. :D :D :D Good drills, that man!

    MsG
     
  6. spike7451

    spike7451 RIP

    Yardly!! That's one place you dont wanna go!! Mong mental asylum!!! :twisted:
    Thankfully,I'm from the posh end of Birmingham,Solihull!!! :D
     
  7. Gremlin

    Gremlin LE Good Egg (charities)

    Thanks Spike, I'd always wondered where the upmarket bit of Brum is ;)
     
  8. lol... bet that pub in yardley was the "ring o bells" where all the bed and breakfast places are...
     
  9. spike7451

    spike7451 RIP

    Yeesss,we wrap the napkins around the McDonalds burger so one does'nt get sauce on ones fingers,dont you know. :wink:
     
  10. Gremlin

    Gremlin LE Good Egg (charities)

    ^ Roofffllll