While I’m not sure that all functioning faculties have been restored to normal, if I don’t crack on and review my 80’s Zombie School Disco from Saturday night the moment will be lost.
Whilst my sister’s gazebo survived unscathed; as did ‘Troy Bolton’ (dressed as a zombie ghoul) I can’t say the same for my liver or remaining brain cells.
All the effort Bman put in with the lasers and strobes etc was fab although he didn’t have as much joy with his weird contact lens & his phoney scars which refused to play and had to be abandoned. This left him looking rather more like some kind of Polish Beetlejuice which may not have been the effect he was aiming for, while I looked like Kim Wilde gone to seed.
Have to say a massive kudos to ‘Sonny Cockit & Fellatio Tubbs’ for the attention to detail for the 80’s theme if not to the spelling!!) & for coming at all as ‘Cockit’ was feeling a little under the weather.
The 80’s themed quiz I devised went well although the 80s DVD quiz we attempted later on after the Childerbeast had all been put to bed was apparently a bit of a buzz killer. I blame Suggs entirely for this.
I have no recollection of this whatsoever as I was away with my old pal Jose Cuervo by then and was, so I’m told, face down in the sofa. Mercifully, there is no photographic or video evidence of this because it’s usually me who takes that kind of photo of other people. Perhaps my camera was concealed beneath my prone body at the time, after I had crashed to the couch in what was apparently an impressive face-plant after announcing that I needed a wee. Also thankfully I hadn’t needed a wee that much that I soiled myself. (I know this because I tested the couch cushions & my discarded tights in the morning for telltale dampness). Hey! Don’t judge me! Who needs to be classy when you’re painted up like a zombie? No-one, that’s who – it’s a licence to act like an unthinking, mindless lurching carcass!
So anyhoo, I woke up next morning naked in bed next to Emma (which wouldn’t be the first time). I also felt, unsurprisingly like a bag of shite!
When I finally dragged my sorry ass downstairs and laid on the couch with Gill under a duvet, I thought a glass of pineapple juice and a yogurt might help… but I was wrong and had to bolt upstairs to barf.
I felt all the better for it until we put on Strictly Come Dancing Halloween Special on the magic digibox and I thought I must’ve eaten the worm from the tequila when I kept seeing an overweight devil shimmying and shaking infront of my eyes. It wasn’t. It was Russell Grant camping it up big style and not doing much to improve the sensitivity of my stomach.
The house lay in a state of disarray until yesterday when Bman had to tidy it all up while I was at work, still feeling rough as a dog & teaching inmates who’d had parole for a week & were giddy about going Trick or Treating all about Samhain and how it’s marked all over the world in it’s various forms. Bman found things beneath the couch and tables that he really doesn’t want to talk about in detail but I still think he may have had the better deal!
All in all, it was a great success and I only wish we had a larger house so we could invite more people. Maybe next year we could hold it at The Moss? This would be awesome and will also let me know whether or not my mum still reads my work as I am sure she would have something to say about that suggestion – she’s been on the wrong end of some of my house parties before!
BTW…. the fake blood is STILL in my freakin’ hair!