Sunday, September 25, 2005

She looks like a sugar in a plum...

....plum plum. It was that sort of weekend.

After a Friday night out with Crash and Donna which left us richer to the tune of a tin of evaporated milk, a story guaranteed to put me off chocolate spread for life and the knowledge that we danced very badly indeed in a brightly-lit and almost empty pub, we headed off to deepest Wiltshire bright and early and a bit hungover on Saturday morning. Arriving before anyone else, including my father and stepmum, we set the tone for the remainder of the day by heading to the pub for a relaxing pint before the hoards descended. The pub was hosting a wedding that was in gloriously bad taste (the bridesmaid's dress had a great big bow on the back and the toothless balding man in the cheap suit turned out not to be the requisite innapropriate uncle but the groom, a fact that he amply demonstrated by holding the bride's bottom very firmly while shoving his tongue down her throat) that I could have watched all day. Our presence was required however, so we wandered back and were greeted by Australian Sis and Controlling Husband. Now, CH seems on the surface to be a very nice man indeed, although there was a little too much old-school servile behaviour on display from AS for my liking. I'll reserve judgement though as it was hard to get much of a handle in what he's really like. He's Australian by way of Kosovo and as such his English, particularly when trying to translate drunken banter between people who've known each other for thirty-odd years, is still a work in progress. This led to him being really rather quiet and sloping off to bed early, so we'll see.

As for the rest of the visit; well, it had everything you could wish for. We drank for twelve hours solid and my father fell asleep before he could even eat his dinner. This may have been related to his student-like enthusiasm for drinking everything he could lay his hands on, including some Kosovan brandy that he was swigging from the bottle like a chav with an alcopop. At one point the table next to his recliner had a glass of whisky, a glass of red wine and a glass of cava lined up so it's probably no wonder that shortly before dinner we were drawing straws to see who got to wake him up. After dinner all thoughts of the traditional whining through the washing up were put aside as the Boney M vinyl was cranked up and Woodlands was witness to the triumphant return of the Impromptu Hallway Disco, which ran until the record player broke and no amount of shining a torch on it while sort of poking it a bit would cajole it back into life. Fifi Sis' Other Half regrettably failed to wire up the karaoke mikes he'd helpfully brought with him so we satisfied ourselves with wailing along to some dreadfully bad covers CDs that he'd purchased from a petrol station (under the impression that they were just a bargain at six quid for twelve CDs) and lurching around a bit. When the party broke up slightly we retired to the living room to talk loudly over the sound of my father's laboured drunken snoring as he'd once more collapsed open-mouthed into his chair. I suspect that it would have been a much later night but the Other Half (mine) expressed his desire to go to bed (we were on a blow-up bed in the living room) by simply lying on the floor until the penny dropped. On the subject of the Other Half, he was the victim of a particularly nasty case of middle-of-the-night confusion of the sort that renders it impossible for you to find your way out of a dark room as someone has turned it inside-out while you were sleeping. Desperate for a wee, he did two laps of the living room barking his shins and becoming increasingly panicky before finally locating the light switch and making good his escape. The light going on didn't wake me up though, as I had wisely legislated for it by drinking far too much wine. Regrettably this rendered me bratty and irritating before knocking me out, for which I can only apologise to the long-suffering Other Half.

After a random early morning conversation in which the Other Half and I decided that we were going to give it all up and run a pub instead, we found ourselves on an outing to the local park to amuse Fifi's eldest Minx. I was missing Small Person horribly by this point and was more than ready to go home. However, the park was so random that I'm rather glad I stuck around. Eldest Minx had already told me the way to the park - you go back past the other way and then along, apparently. She only fell over three times on the way, so that was alright then, and the park was something of a curiosity. There were the usual swings and play equipment, but at the opposite end there was a plantation-style house which appeared to host the park in its front garden. There was also a folly and a burial ground, so all in all more sinister than friendly, in my opinion. Fifi and her Other Half decided to get some Sunday papers so we accompanied them to the shop. The walk there was akin to a walk round Royston Vasey and things didn't get any less weird when we arrived at our destination. The Other Half was keen to purchase a revolting squeezy skull with bugs in it that had been making him and Fifi's Other Half (for crying out loud somebody suggest a shorter name for him!!) giggle like six-year-olds since the previous afternoon (FOH had bought two for his nephew and they made me feel proper sick) and of course the papers had to be bought. Hindering this transaction was the presence in the shop doorway of a very odd dog indeed. It appeared to be a cross between a Springer Spaniel and a walrus (waniel? spalrus?) having very short legs and big flippery feet and it stared relentlessly at Fifi which unnerved her no end. I could have stayed there all day reading the notice board (home hairdressing from five pounds [no perms]) and watching old men buying Deep Heat but I had to get home and it's a three hour drive so we reluctantly headed back. On the walk back to the park FOH told a fabulous story detailing the time during his school nativity play when Sister Hildegarde, on becoming concerned at him missing his cue (he was Joseph, complete with dressing gown and talcum powder in his hair), ventured backstage and found him in an ante-room off the wings teaching the shepherds how to masturbate. Marvellous.

And there was pineapple fridge cake and me and Small Person ate it all when we got home. Sorry. Oh, and there were lots of pre-teen hookers in the park and their friend looked like Fred West in a wig. And Unsuitable Terry was very funny indeed, in an unexpectedly good way.

I'm tired and therefore this post has been long and rubbish. That'll teach you.


Blogger elvira black chimed in with...

That was delish! I'm going back now and reading the previous one and all the links to your mom and dad and all the rest.

25 September, 2005 20:41  
Blogger Urban Chick chimed in with...

well that all sounded mighty civilised (esp the dancing to boney m bit)

but damn you for not keeping me a piece of pineapple fridge cake


25 September, 2005 21:49  
Blogger Urban Chick chimed in with...

ooh ooh...just saw what's playing in your car: pat benatar's best shots

takes me right back to the sixth form where we leapt around on the beds* hollering 'stop using sex as a weapon' (highly amusing given that virutally none of us was having sex let alone using it as a weapon)

* boarding school - saynomore

augbut = the dying days of august

25 September, 2005 21:54  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

sadly it's rubbish on a re-listen. all shoulder pads and keyboards and bonnie tyler-esque angst.

kkqpork: dyslexic racist barbecue food.

25 September, 2005 21:58  
Blogger Donna chimed in with...

A fab night it was too - thank you both for your entertaining company, and special thanks to Other Half for his lovely dancing.

Crash did suffer with his back the next day as predicted.

I did think of you having to drive whilst I drank a gallon of water then turned over to snooze on the other side.

And please don't get us drunk and extract embarassing stories ever again, well at least not til next weekend.

ogmpkxpy: a cross between an oompa lumpa and a pixie

25 September, 2005 22:20  
Blogger Smat chimed in with...

sound like a fabulous (ly excruciating but makes a brilliant blog) weekend!
And do we get the recipe for the pineapple fridge cake? Sound like the kind of thing Baby Smats would go for.

25 September, 2005 22:52  
Blogger patroclus chimed in with...

Rubbish, my arse. That post was excellent! Glad you, OH, FS, FSOH and the Minxes survived more or less intact, *and* that there was pineapple fridge cake. Marvellous.

25 September, 2005 23:02  
Blogger Steve chimed in with...

"like a chav with an alcopop".


25 September, 2005 23:16  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

i've been googling for a recipe but they're all american and bang on about graham crackers and the like.

it's not like i've got a half day (more on which later)and therefore should be working harder expecially as my assistant is off sick this week or anything.

26 September, 2005 11:39  
Blogger spindleshanks chimed in with...

so many treats for us surly girl - what a top weekend (at least for blog-tainment value)

26 September, 2005 12:43  
Blogger Smat chimed in with...

Looking here
it would seem that a Graham cracker is a poor American version of a digestive. Not that digestives were invented to supress the libido (see )unlike the graham cracker.
Do you notice any libido-suppressment after eating the pineapple fridge cake? I think we might need a full-scale in-depth study.

26 September, 2005 13:18  
Anonymous Paul King chimed in with...

Surly Girl

Does this look about right:

Pineapple Fridge Cake

1 tin Condensed Milk

1 Tbl Custard powder

250g tin Crushed pineapple

1 pcket Leibnitz/Rich Tea/Digestive biscuits

1 Tbl Maizena/Corn Starch

Preparation: Pour condensed milk into a pan. Add 1 can of water (use the milk tin for the measure) and heat till boiling point. Mix the custard powder and Maizena with cold water and add to boiling condensed milk mixture. Stir well until it thickens. Add crushed pineapple to mixture and mix well. Alternate layers of Liebnitz biscuits with the pineapple condensed milk mixture. Top with whipped cream.

26 September, 2005 13:49  
Blogger Who is this Dave? chimed in with...

I'm with SMAT on this. Paul should make many of these things, and send them out to us. Afterwards he will need to send dancing girls/blokes/Surly herself (delete as applicable) to see if our libidos have been suppressed.

26 September, 2005 16:09  
Blogger Whinger chimed in with...

I laughed out loud at poor Other Half's middle-of-the-night adventures. So sad when the room turns itself around!

26 September, 2005 17:02  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

kingster - i have no clue what corn starch is (cornflour maybe, on reflection) but the rest of it sounds spot on. and i'd recommend digestives for the biscuit base. mmmm, biscuit base....

as for libido surpressing, i couldn't possibly say.

and i feel i must share the time when someone turned the room inside out in the uttoxeter travelodge and instead of ending up in the bathroom i instead found myself on the top floor landing, very confused and rather glad i'd slept in a t-shirt. i suspect the cctv footage is still doing the rounds of travelodge night receptionists.

26 September, 2005 19:45  
Blogger patroclus chimed in with...

If you eat Graham Crackers while listening to "Young and Dumb" by Ike & Tina Turner, do the two cancel each other out, thus inducing an equilibrium in the libido?

That was a rhetorical question, but it's an experiment I may try. I'll let you know the results shortly.

26 September, 2005 22:11  
Blogger Kyahgirl chimed in with...

Oh sg, I've been wondering all weekend how it went. (Yes, I need to get a life). I hope I haven't gone and inflated any narcisstic tendencies but I really did think of you guys once or twice.
You're a very funny writer. Looks like you need to collect more data on CH eh?

27 September, 2005 03:51  
Blogger surly girl chimed in with...

so, patroclus, how did it go? did you wildly frug the night away to the sounds of ike and tina, or did the crackers induce sitting in a chair with a bonnet on?

as for CH, the jury remains out. we'll see what happens when their baby arrives around christmas time. in the event it was AS who pissed me off the most, but that's a whole other story, and not an interesting one, sadly.

oh, and uc? i signed up for your shindig. i haveno idea what we do now so please keep me informed!

27 September, 2005 09:18  
Blogger Fifi chimed in with...

i am still having disturbing flashbacks about that dog...

27 September, 2005 10:24  
Anonymous Other Half chimed in with...

Was an interesting weekend for sure. Great to see everyone again and how we survived Saturday's drinking marathon is difficult to explain. My liver is still in intensive care !!!!!!!

27 September, 2005 11:19  

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