June 2002 Archives - wibbler.com

Mel’s Party

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On Saturday, for the first time in a few months, I went to a house party. My friend Mel had invited Jac and I (purely for entertainment value, apparently) to South London for a knees up, and, after a visit to Sainsbury’s, where I asked a complete stranger if he had any marshmellows (I SWEAR he looked like he worked there…), we duly turned up with some alcohol and, randomly, a small packet of Gungo peas. “Finger food”, Jac explained, although quite how a selection of small dried peas from Jamaica could pass as ideal party nibbles, no-one could quite explain. Least of all Jac…
After loudly and mistakenly calling my good friend Ellie W-P “Mel” whilst everyone dissolved in tears of laughter around me, Jac and I settled into our well-worn “party joker” monikers. Ellie C did the honours on the barbeque, managing to drop most of the food through the bars into the ash, and forgetting to bring round the dips, instead just furnishing us with bread sticks. The evening, bless it, passed largely without incident, save for Jac’s poor hearing – he mistook the name Claudia Schiffer for Corduroy Shifter (“that well-known trouser salesman”), and his uncanny ability to make me cry with laughter. During a lull in the conversation, I noticed a strange waft coming in through the window. “Do you have an Indian round here?”, I asked, noting the familiar smell of an indian restaurant, “There’s a strange smell coming from outside…”. “Yes, ” replied Mel, “there’s one just around the corner”. At which point Jac, completely misunderstanding the situation, yelled out the window, “GO AND HAVE A SHOWER, YOU SMELLY MAN”.
I didn’t fully recover for several minutes…

Dad’s Quote

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Quote of the night from my dad:
“Your mother always says no when she means yes. That, of course, is how I fell in love with her in the first place.”

Early for work

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Well done me. It’s 7am, and I’ve unexpectedly arrived 1 1/2 hours early for work.
tum de dum de dum… *twiddles fingers*

Zoe’s 21st Birthday Party

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Oh, and WHAT a party it was last night. Elli’s sister Zoe kindly had a 21st birthday, an excuse we all immediately pounced on for a knees up. Once again, the Cowell residence did themselves proud, with neverending food, neverending champagne and almost neverending Pimms fueling some drunken goon-like dancing, women sporting particularly short skirts, and outrageous “happenings” on the outside bench. The highlight of the night was possibly when Jac fell asleep in the loudest room in the house, with the DJ pumping out classic after classic, and slowly but surely falling off his chair into a crumpled heap. His brand new ?500 dinner suit went down a storm, however, and he snogged for the second time in two days, breaking all previous records. Quite why this has happened we’re still trying to work out. “As it’s your 21st birthday,” I announced, “we thought we’d go for a gardening theme” somehow covered the fact that I was actually in a B & Q store when I suddenly remembered her birthday. Our customary stupid presents culminated in a bag of fresh moss and a garden hoe. Lucky, lucky girl, eh?

Quotes of the moment
Me, after revealing a present: “You don’t want to get the hoe covered in earth. There’s nothing worse that having a dirty hoe on your conscience, believe me”, cunningly exploiting the Jerry Springer definition of ‘hoe’ to great effect.
Jac, after being told he looked “dishy”: “I hope that’s not in the ceramic sense.”

Nick’s surprise party

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Nick‘s surprise birthday party (in which we lured him on the inexplicably unrealistic “come and help get a piano out of a taxi” – what a large taxi that must have been…) was a huge success, culminating in Jac getting ‘married’ to a lovely blonde woman, with Simon H as the vicar (complete with wig), and the host’s mother losing her pants…
And I’m doing it all again tonight for Elli’s sister’s 21st. Christ, someone fetch the asprin…

Quotes of the moment (an idea blatantly stolen from Jac’s site):
Jac greeting a fully standing, 5’1″ Michelle: “Hello Michelle, nice to meet you, don’t get up.”
60 year old woman: “Has anyone seen my pants?”
Jac, hearing of a piano removal:”Does anyone have a piano shoe?”
Shunta, several minutes after the surprise party is revealed: “So, where’s this piano then?”

Thank you.

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I thought I’d just take a moment to thank all the 400 visitors to wibbler.com every week. Thank you. It really melts my butter. I want to thank you firstly for taking the trouble to come and read my inane ramblings (I can witter on for hours, god help you), and secondly because I’m absolutely chuffed to bits, and prone to boasting wildly even the smallest thing…
Now i’m off to burst my head.

Tea with the Managing Director

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First day back at work, and I wangle a drink or two with the Managing Director, visiting our office for the day. MARVELLOUS. The rest of the office, of course, are horrendously cheesed off…

Alton Towers trip…

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Well, Alton Towers was a blast. Friday night we arrived at the hotel, after 5 hours of cracking traffic. Truly, I loved it. Saturday, though, made up for everything. Alton Towers beckoned, and at 8.30am, as we arrived, we noticed a suitably small note on the tickets: “Valid from 9.30am only.”. Marvellous…
9.30am. We raced in, and ran for Air, the new ride. The first inkling that something was due to loosen my bowels came when the floor at the start of the ride gave way, and the seats went forward, rendering us almost horizontal, superman style. Christ. After twists and turns that would confuse even the most twist-and-turny people, half way through the ride I noticed I was lying flat on my back, hurtling backwards through a particularly sadistic section of the rollercoaster, barely able to breathe. If that sounds awful, I assure you it wasn’t. By the end of the ride, all was forgiven and I immediately wanted to turn round and do it again…
The rest of the day was spent going on the most adventurous rides (Nemesis, Oblivion – which, quite frankly, scares me – to name a few), and of course watching England’s practically orgasmic 3-0 win over Denmark, with the most impressive Posh and Becks lookalikes ever, by a large screen in the grounds. The lookalikes kept everybody entertained by kicking any balls that came their way and, regardless of the poor quality of the kicks, the cheers went up every time the golden foot touched the ball. Marvellous. And it happened to be filmed for the BBC’s coverage of the event. I was in a whole 2 frames of the broadcast.
Fame at last. No, really. Honest.