12 August 2005

W. A. C.

There is a time for silly. This week that time was Monday night. After a day of much work, the clock struck 5 and my mid-week weekend started. So after buying much meat, beer, coffee beans and wine I caught a lift with Sam and the lovely Charlie (for Charlotte, not Charles) and off to Naughton (big house in the middle of nowhere - often the party epicentre of North Fife) we went. Well, we had to stop by Cupar first to pick up Pete W, sous chef extraordinaire and also the bearer of fine booze. Little did we know that there was a bearer of shit booze as well - but more on that later...

So we got to Naughton to find much joy, revelry, beer and football. Pete C was on top form in spite of a 5am start and almost 10 hours driving the horse box up from Hertfordshire. My 2nd girlfriend was from Hertfordshire. Anyway. Lil was there as well and then Ellie, Elise, Dave, Louisa, Harry, Becky, Noel, Kirsty (late, as bloody usual, but she brought great buns... and some bread rolls) all turned up in a staggered arrival pattern. It was a wee bit chilly but the BBQ spirit had taken us and I started making burgers inside while everyone persevered to have fun outside.That's the 2 Petes (C on the left, W on the right) - In the background you can see Noel telling Lil he'd like to take pictures of her. Or something...

Sadly it was not the weather that perturbed our BBQ in the end... it was a lack of propane. We noticed this when the BBQ was getting colder. Fortunately we hadn't put the burgers on yet and the salad had yet to be tossed. So it transmogrified (total Calvin word there) from a BBQ party to a kitchen party after vein attempts to play football were also aborted.

So we ate burgers, a hastily prepared salad and a massive amount of ice cream, for the lucky there were Stroopwafeln..

Kitchen parties rock. We had the iPod hooked up to the speakers and were talking total nonsense.Then the purveyor of shit booze made themselves known... yes, Sam had brought the legendary, the one and only... Wild Africa Cream, a true train wreck of a drink, combining gag reflex with nausea. We all tried a taste, some from brandy snifters while the more brave, lunatic among us took a slightly different route, choosing instead to face the danger head on, so Pete C grabbed the bottle and tucked in. I stuck to the brandy snifter myself but the result in both cases was the same. It was so unpleasant that the bottle was put aside and beer and wine were used in copious quantities to rinse our violated palates. It was destiny that it would make a reappearance.
Kitchen parties at Naughton consist of loads of silly things happening all at once and nobody really all that sure which particular silliness they're taking part in... this is a good example of the situation... sometimes there is table diving and almost constantly laughter. I'm not entirely sure what everyone is laughing about in this instance but I guess the point comes across. Much hysteria later and we all realised that the kitchen was a terrible mess. So we ran away... It was suggested that we play charades. So we did. We split into teams and came up with a forfeit... yes, the leopard-spotted beauty returned and the forfeit determined. If you failed to get the charade within 1min. 30sec. then the person charading had to sup Wild Africa Cream from a champagne glass. Unsurprisingly, Dave had to drink after this bewildering effort.Eventually we ran out of cream... so I made some more from a mix containing tequila, bailey's, malibu, whisky and anything else we could find. That got drunk too. I think that's when we all went to bed. I'm sure there's other stuff, but I can't remember. To be honest, I'm not sure if this all happened as I described it. But it was just what I needed. As was the convalescence that followed. Probably another post that, as I'm tired and need my bed.

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