Although, having said that it’s an expensive month for me, I did just go away for three days in Edinburgh on a stag do and rack up an impressive amount of spending.
And 90% of that spending was on booze and food, so I don’t even have anything to show for it other than a two-day hangover and exhaustion. Cheers!
I’m going to a mate’s stag do next weekend, and on one of the days we all have to dress up. The theme this time round is to dress up as a country, which we drew out of a hat a few weeks ago.
As you can see, I drew China.
I found this jacket at a little shop in Chinatown earlier today, and the hat is actually an old lampshade. I love the jacket, especially the collar styling. If it makes it back from Edinburgh in one piece, I might find opportunity to wear it again…
Eddie’s Stag Do - JagerBombs
I took my little video camera to the stag do I was on the other weekend, and since then I’ve been editing like a madman. Most of the footage is of us being drunken idiots, and will probably only amuse ourselves, but this one is pretty damn funny.
We found a bar that was doing JagerBombs for just £1 on a Saturday night, and I’ve genuinely got no idea how many we get through. This is an edited video from that night, and I’m very happy with how good the camera worked in low light levels.
My favourite bit is at 4:45 or so, the expression on a mate’s face as he downs the shot. So expressive, and fucking hilarious. Oh, and I look like a right tit at the end of the video. In HD too…
There’s a few more videos on my YouTube profile, and I’ve got a couple more to edit in the next few days. I’m the narrator for most of them, and usually the loudest voice, if you want to hear my dulcet English tones.
The stupid things you do when you’re drunk. As the caption on my mate’s Facebook has it:
Minnie Mouse umpiring a Balancing Competition between Robin Hood & Captain America, with Dennis the Menace (complete with bag) as official photographer….
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about an epic Facebook message thread that me and some mates have been using to talk about an upcoming stag do for one of us. I said that we’d started to throw in some betting ideas for things like First Person to Puke, or To Call Their Missus.
The latest market one of the guys posted is for First To Leave A Club Before Kick-Out Time. I’m happy to report that I am the rank outsider for this one, viewed by my peers as practically certain to be there until the end:
20/1 - I hate to say it but this lad is arguably one of the most consistent performers, unlikely to make an early exit, just beering it up and a good time here.
What can I say? When I go out, I go out!
I’m off on a mate’s stag do at the end of April, and there’s already a couple of epic Facebook message threads floating about between a load of us. They’ve quickly descended into the usual banter and ripping the piss out of each other (just like as if we were all in the pub together, I guess), but today one of the guys posted a great little summary of betting odds for various events to occur over the weekend.
Obviously, most of the reasoning behind why certain people are favourites are very much in-jokes and based on a lot of history, so I won’t repeat them here, but the categories are pretty enlightening:
First to puke. There’s a couple of the guys that are notorious for not being able to handle their drink, so this one’s a sure-fire certainty to happen.
People who might actually end up together after the weekend. Two of the guys are gay, and there’s rampant speculation as to who will be next / join them…
First to cause a fight. Not that we’re punchy at all, but a couple of us tend to let our mouths run away with us after a few beers. I’m definitely one of them, and never know when to shut up.
First to use the word ‘cunt’ as of Saturday 7am (i.e. at the airport). We swear. A lot. Ridiculously so. I predict the first occurrence of this word to be literally as we set foot into the airport. And probably right in front of a family with small children, knowing us.
First to mention their missus. One of us is married, two are engaged, and at least four of the rest of us have long-term girlfriends. It’s inevitable. A better bet would be who gets a call or text from the girlfriend/fiancée/wife first.
First to flirt with the other sex (successfully). Despite the above, it’s lads away for a weekend, the majority of which will be spent inebriated. Again, inevitable.
Person to eat the most over the course of the weekend. A tough call between the stag himself and a couple of other legendary “are you going to finish that?” eaters.
7 weeks and counting. It’s going to be brilliant.
The intro to an invite to a stag do for one of my good mates. We’re having a long weekend up in Newcastle at the end of April, which will no doubt wipe five years off of the life of my liver. The two best men organising it should be putting on quite a programme of events, I reckon.
I’m an usher in the wedding, the first time I’ve been involved in one since I was a pageboy at the age of about six or seven, dressed in maroon corduroy knickerbockers. I’m very, very excited.
Eddie’s the second of our group to get married, which is about right for a bunch of guys in their mid-20s. Another one got engaged over Christmas, while at least five of us live with long-term girlfriends. Two of the guys also turned out to be gay. There’s only a couple of kids around, that I can think of, but no doubt that’ll increase in the next couple of years.
It’s weird to think that we’re all adults now, seeing as I’ve known most of them since we started secondary school nearly 14 years ago, and a couple of them for even longer than that. Although we’re spread out across the south of the country nowadays, it’s so easy to slip back into the old ways when we’re all together, which is unfortunately ever more infrequently.
So it’s another wedding this summer, possibly one more next year, and then who knows. One of the best men, who has been living with his girlfriend for a while now, was using the other best man as a buffer to hold off proposing, as best man number two has been with his missus for years and years without popping the question. Of course, with best man number two doing so at Christmas, that’s switched the peer pressure from himself to best man number one.
And I guess that would put me next in line after that.
