Let Me Slip Away

Rosanne's party was, in a word, excellent.

I arrived at Abi's house (an hour late. Shh.) to see an Abi in the shortest shorts known to man, and an irritable Thomas, dressed from head to toe in black 'ninja' gear. Bear in mind that this was one of the hottest days of the year so far. Tom stormed off home to change into his lycra.

Alone at last, the Scab and I skipped up the stairs to view the wonder that is The Princess Bride. Joe and Kris arrived, Joe complaining at our choice in film. He then proceeded to watch said film intently, his gaze torn from the screen only to reprimand those who dared to utter a single word. Mike joined us for an hour, ate pizza, and then trundled off to Waitrose. Haha. Steve and Emma clocked in, and costume trying on ensued. Due to the paternal parental unit's involvement in the Royal Mail, it was decided that Stuv and myself should be postmen. Or, postwomen, in fact, with Kris as our cat. Emma, for some obscure reason, had procured a rather large clown suit, big enough for all of us to fit into. Joe was toting his army gear, and Abi borrowed her brother's lifeguard uniform. Nat wore all black, and stuck a piece of card in his collar, claiming vicardom. Yeh, nice try.

After six billion years of trekking through the urban jungle that is Walton, braving the South-West Train system, and clambering up the hill of Egham, we arrived at Rozza's, complete with a bucket fileld with pegs and a rubber chicken. Essential, I assure you.

I was surprised that the majority of the people actually bothered dressing up for this party, some putting more effort into it than others, but actually wearing costumes nonetheless. The party consisted of the usual elements - broken chairs, drunken "I love you"s, injuries from being punched by Rosanne (I still have a bruise, you twat) and the archetypal fallings over.

After everyone left, Rozza, Emma and I decided that it would be fun to sit in the kitchen, eat Frosties, and be inventive with plastic cups. It's best not to ask. At 5:30, on a brainwave (on my behalf, I might add), Roxy and myself played 'The Game of Life", which is, basically, the cop-out version of Monopoly. We played for two and a half hours, whilst tucking into Ben and Jerry's, and accidently glimpsing things in the study that should never be glimpsed.

A good party was had by all.