Parties - why do we do it?

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Cuddles, Apr 28, 2008.

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  1. Well thank the dear lord that 's over - the wife's annual birthday party. Me, I'm more the half a dozen close friends and an intimate, refined dinner party type, finishing off with good port or brandy, cigars and lighting my own farts while my guest strugggle to remain vertical, giggling.

    Her indoors however likes the full monte, Busby Berkely production values and a cast which would make DW Griffiths blanch. So yesterday Cuddles Towers let down its drawbridge and we invited the world and his wife and/or girlfriend over for drinks, cocktail sticks with nibbles, three kinds of curry and two enormous hunks of beef - one bloody, one which was technically resuscitable given a crash team of emergency vets.

    I bought three cases of decent enough wine - half price at Sainsbury's thank you God! I bought six cases of assorted beers of the finest quality. No eight ace or non-specific beer d'Alsace, we are talking Sam Adams and Heineken. I did all the catering, helped her indoors with the block and area. Then sttod back, with a bin bag in one hand and a bottle poised in the other in case I came across a guest who had sipped from their glass and needed immediate re-refreshment.

    We started at 1400 and drew to a sedate close around midninght - well it is a school day today after all. Due to my amazing tactical pre-science I had almost completed clearing up before the last guest had gone; it was all I could do to prevent myself from wresting their glass from their fingers and sweeping them into the drive but I held on and made coffee and grown-up drinks for the stragglers.

    So I repaired to my couch feeling pretty chuffed, that there was a minimum amount of tidying to do in the a.m.. I was less chuffed this morning however to discover that some people, who you think you've know all their lives can turn out to be cnuts. Or maybe the Emperor was making a visit incognito...

    Who is the cnut who takes a sip from a can ogf beer, then leaves the three quarter full can in either a)an impossible location or b)exactly where you will put your foot whilst trying to feed children/dogs and self before school run?

    Are there more than one of them or do they just walk through the party with a six pack, leaving the "fulls" (as opposed to empties) in pre-selected spots of their choosing?

    Who puts their cigarettes out in a dog's water bowl FFS? It is rude and unpleasant, almost as rude and unpleasant as the (German and female thankfully) guest who tried to give me a quick w4nk as I escorted them out. I wouldn't normally mind but it was TFB's birthday FFS, although technically it could have been mine too...

    If you put five ashtrays out, why use the patio? I am no kill-joy anti-smoker by any means. Sometimes I think I only have the power of nicotine to thank for the continued even keel and balanced temper of TFB. when she tried to quit three years ago I applied for the Fenianette and i to go onto the at risk register but unfortunately there was a waiting list...

    Who puts cutlery, cigarette packets and sundry items into the ice-butts where the booze is cooling?

    Why do people who hate each other choose YOUR party to reveal their antipathy to each other? It did prevent the cake cutting becoming an anti-climax and I must confess I didn't think one of the two ladies even knew words like that.

    If there are three or four dogs and multiple children romping around, what tw4t puts a glass of red wine on the edge of a low table? I actually know the answer to that and believe you me, a kipper down the back of their sofa next time we're away to them is indicated.

    If there are two butts of beer, wine and fruity drinks for the ladies in obvious positions, what tw4t decides to go foraging in my beer fridge and drink my collection of "interesting" ales? Or rather leave bottles of them with one sip taken, in inaccessible places?

    I love a gathering, don't get me wrong. I spent 200 quid on ensuring there was enough booze to satisfy even our friends' appetites. I even gave in to pleading from the luscious 40 something wives of our friends to get out my cocktail shaker and produce multi-coloured and sickeningly sweet lady-drinks. That old Connecticut favourite the "Woo-Woo" went down very well. I even invented one, using creme de cassis, calvados, blue curacao and orange juice, in honour of one of them. I was I admit showing off that I can make a pousse cafe with the best of them.

    I was gratified by the fact that most people used 200 yards worth of energy to get up the 100 yards of drive and one of the fence panels played a blinder in keeping an elderly gentleman friend of ours upright. It was a good party apparently, according to those who know about such things. Admittedly their status as bona fide witnesses may be in question due to the predominance of "being shedded" amongst them.

    However I stand here amongst the cleared-over debris and have to ask, who brought the bottle of Slovenian riesling? Why do we have more bottles of pink wine than we did at the onset? How come we drank all of the Heineken but mysteriously six cans were there floating in a butt this morning which I had checked seven hours previously and found empty of Heineken? Why was a pair of ladies nether garments found in the shed, apparently having been freshly starched? :oops:

    Parties pose so many questions. Luckily there were no fisticuffs this year but TFB had promised not to cut up rough with her mother, Medusa O'Donnell. So I say, as I have said every year since records began, "No more parties!".

    See you all this time next year... :roll:
  2. Pm me next time you have a shindig i'll put the details on mongspace to liven things up for you. At the least it will put the missus off parties forever win win for you matey
  3. A kind thought. A real win win would be to advertise it on mongspace, then set up the claymores along the drive with interlocking arcs of fire for the GPMG SF and 50 cals on the roofs. A cut off group could be lying up near the roadside and after "STOP!!" the invited guests could carry out a clearing patrol, making sure the dead weren't shamming.
  4. Cuddles - gentleman-about-town, genial host and raconteur.

    We salute you.
  5. Cuddles, please check your cellar for!

    Also you didn't mention the mong couple who used the pile of coats in the spare bedroom as a shag nest!
    Or the tw@t who emptied your fridge although you plainly provided mounds of grub.
  6. old_fat_and_hairy

    old_fat_and_hairy LE Book Reviewer Reviews Editor

    Can I come to your next one?

    I'll bring a good single malt.
  7. blue-sophist

    blue-sophist LE Good Egg (charities)

    Cuddles, you have illuminated the problem of allowing hordes of proles into Cuddles Towers. Your preferred method [the selected few] would have produced a more agreeable result.

    On the basis of your sad tale, which moved me near to [*the fridge / another bottle / Austria] I believe Mrs C should be beaten stoutly with a kitchen whisk, invited to do all the necessary cleaning/tidying and then requested [firmly] to present all future invitation lists for Staff scrutiny.

    HI's next birthday should, perhaps, be held in a tented environment somewhere in the Cairngorms.

    However, I request an invitation to one of your more select occasions, purely in the interests of research :wink:
  8. Went to a party Saturday night and saw one of the best table knockovers ever.
    Big munter of a host stands up off the sofa, teeters dangerously into a 70deg angle, straightens up to 85deg, and then promptly goes down faster than a lead balloon full throttle over the glass coffee table.
    Fortunately the table was covered with burning rose coloured candles, wine glasses, other beer drinks, and a pot of that smelly leafy crap that women love so much.
    Splattered with candle wax, shards of glass, and a heap of potpourri, the 300lbs blob gets to her feet only to step on the table top, slip on the spilt beer and take another head dive into three on-lookers knocking THEM and THEIR drinks over as well.

    Laugh, I nearly feckin died.
  9. Bluey, should you ever pass through this realm then I would be disappointed, nay insulted were you not to knock at the lodge and enquire if the laird was in.

    As for the squalid mating, apart from the German beast's assault upon my honour there were two teenagers (17 years old) who arrived with grass-stains on his knees and moss on her back. I merely winked at her, for she is not my daughter and hence can get it at her leisure. Her mother and step-father were too embroiled in my hospitality to notice so I think she may have squeezed in under the radar. I did notice that the dog they had been "walking" seemed untired and appeared to have a shot of jizz across his snout...though it may have been drool...
  10. blue-sophist

    blue-sophist LE Good Egg (charities)

    Your kind observation noted. I extend the same general invite to Sophist Towers should you pass this way. Overnight accommodation at Haut de la Garenne is currently unuseable, but i suspect you might seek something better than a Youth Hostel / Charnel House anyway :wink:

    As for the "yoof" at the party ... what ever happened to the gentlemanly way, to avoid such embarrassments, we used to ensure the young female was dusted down and cleansed afterwards? Usually through the application of vigorous stroking? Or was that before? Dammit ... the memory's all gone fuzzy. :roll:
  11. "You sad story has touched my heart,

    Rarely have I met anyone with such a tale of woe as you,

    Now Fcuk off and get out of my ears"

    Motto in Council Benefit Office.
  12. I have just spat coffee out all over my computer. Thank you.

    Laugh, i nearly got electrocuted!!

  13. And don't forget their 7 children...
  14. Sorry bout that :D

    Honestly though, me and my mate had to step outside we were laughing so hard.
  15. Cuddles, you have just given me flashbacks to my 30th birthday party in Germany. Mr Slug went out that morning and purchased most of the meat counter in the local German shop (can't remember what it was called) and a few lettuce leaves and a tub of sauercraut for the weirdy beardies, a shed load of any alcohol he could find and before he got back, my brother and his wife of the time arrived (after driving through the night from Whitehaven) and demanded answers as to "why the barbecue wasn't lit yet and where is the effing booze"? It was 1300hrs local time and I had got out of hospital the day before (sinuses) and couldn't be bothered arguing with him (mainly because he is bigger than me) so gave him the charcoal and a bottle of his own beer that he brought and let him crack on.

    Things didn't get better from there. People from work and friends turned up willy nilly throughout the day, demanding food and alkyhol. I think Mr Slug had to re-stoke the BBQ about 12 times. Just as we thought things were winding down at about 2130hrs, (thank goodness we thought - the 4 of us were going to Heidelburg the next morning at early McSquirly), some bright spark had decided to phone the mess and ask them to pop along to have a few drinks.

    Lo and behold, I answered the door 10 mins later to find 2 of the lads from the mess there with crates of beer in their arms:

    "Sorry, there's only us 2 that could come".

    "That's OK lads, there's still some scoff left, come in".


    12 of the little bastards had turned up, all with crates.

    The BBQ went back on again.

    At about 3am, I left Mr Slug and Bro to tidy everything up and went to bed. The conversation on journey to Heidelberg consisted of "They are right dirty bastards, they left bottles and fags all over the house and garden, they blew the speakers up on the stereo, and lagged all over the next door neighbours garden - they are never coming back" etc. etc.

    3 days later, we return to Gutersloh. Slug goes to the kitchen to put the kettle on and immediately pukes. "Mr Slug, what is that fecking smell?"

    The dirty bastards had filled every pan on the pan stand and dishes in the cupboard with fruit salad and the food they couldn't be bothered to eat. It was August and it had been sat there for 3 days. The place was humming.

    I didn't invite them back.

    The lesson to learn is: Don't leave your husband to tidy up when he is still wankered.

    (And what is with putting fags out in 3/4 full bottles and cans? Waste of beer and the butts take ages to dry out).