Friday 20th June saw the start of a long-anticipated holiday with a whole bunch of really good mates.  By 7am the eleven of us were heading for Newcastle airport.  Me and David got straight into holiday spirit, cracking our first beers open somewhere on the A1 at the back of the minibus.

I’ll get the boring facts right out of the way now.  We flew from Newcastle to Murcia.  The villa was in Torrevieja, which is in the Costa Blanca, which is in the province of Alicante.  It was really hot all week.

The villa was amazing.  Five bedrooms, two kitchens, and a pool big enough to dive into without banging your face on the bottom of it.  Me, Martyn, and Errickson quickly claimed a basement bedroom. It had no windows, so it was a lot cooler.  It also meant we were up late nearly every day because at 1pm the room was still pitch black.

For me, the highlight of the week was the evening of the Gentlemen’s Function.  The five guys dressed smart on top and in matching shorts on the bottom, and sat down for a few games of drinking poker on the villa’s roof (’solarium’).  There were temporary tattoos, shots of a mystery green drink which turned out to be a dirty gin, and a dodgy lamp that gave the feeling of being at a mob meeting.  Being gentlemanly and all, there was a shot of Sambuca as punishment for anyone caught using foul language.  To balance this, there was a piece of cheese whenever you played an Ace.  Everyone got cheese if the Ace of Spades was played, and the person playing that card would be unanimously, albeit temporarily, loved.

Whilst the gentlemen were functioning, the girls went out for a meal and scouted out the nightlife.  They found a little rock bar with a pirate theme, called The Pirate Bar.  Two nights later we all went down to The Pirate Bar for a big night out.  All the staff were dressed as pirates, and there was a solo guitarist entertaining, who even let me wear his guitar for a bit.  I was going to bust out some mad licks but I was drunk and a little bit scared, and I didn’t want to make him mad since I’d already been flirting with his wife.

After The Pirate Bar, a few of us continued on to a rubbish little club called Temple.  At this point I would like to relate a piece of advice to a friend:

HANNAH MEASHAM! STOP LETTING 15 YEAR OLD BOYS SUCK YOUR NECK YOU FILTHY BITCH!

Other holiday antics included skinny-dip-diving into the pool, the inflatable ’spacker’ animals, getting nicely sun burnt, trying to find the beach, a puppet show for next door, prizing apart paella and the Black Mamba - hunter of the unconscious.

Dave’s holiday rating:

5 suns out of 5

On Wednesday last week I went to Download festival after work for a crazy week of alcohol fuelled rock action. I got off to a typically ‘Dave’ start by forgetting half of my tent, so I ended up sharing. Cheers to the guys who lent me some floor space.

Some highlights of the week were definitely a string of flying sausages launched by a 3-man catapult, and the most awesome drinking game in the world. It has a song, and it goes like this!

Take a drink…

…put some in…

…pass it on…

…that’s the game!

We chanted the lyrics and followed the actions until nobody could feel their faces any more, and headed off into the village for some noise. That was the drunkest I got all week, and also the night I lost my phone in a little mosh pit.

The festival was awesome from start to finish. The sun was out nearly all weekend, so I got my nose burnt in accordance with Download tradition, and a number of bands were surprisingly awesome. My top bands of the weekend were Children Of Bodom, Pendulum, and Disturbed. I thought they all put really good shows on.

Also, I think the drummer from Judas Priest drinks in a pub just down the road from me. If it is him, he told one of my mates to fuck off when he visited…

I think the weekend that’s just passed was probably the overall drunkest I’ve had this year, and sadly that speaks volumes.

Matty asleep

The weekend kicked off on Friday after work with a ‘few’ ‘quiet’ drinks with Rheanne, my friend from Coventry. A bottle of tequila and a few hours sleep later, I was waking up to greet my ‘boro friends to start 24 Hour Pinty People.

The idea behind ‘24 Hour Pinty People’ is to attempt to drink 24 cans in 24 hours, opening a can on the hour, every hour. Things went fairly smoothly from noon til around midnight when Errickson busted out a deck of cards and announced it was time to play Mao. The first rule of Mao is that you may not discuss the rules of Mao. Try playing it twelve hours into a drinking binge and see how you fair. Also, bring a guy called Errickson who in turn brings a bottle of whiskey, and see how you fair.

My watch also stopped shortly after midnight. Until about 2:30am, I kept thinking I hadn’t opened a new can after the hour had passed and absorbing more alcohol using my stomach and guts.

There are many stories that could be told, but what happens in 24 Pinty hours stays in 24 Pinty hours (read: I don’t want to tell embarrassing stories here). By the time people crashed about 16 hours in, we’d had drinking games, sunshine, nudity, a broken toilet, fish ‘n’ chips, a musical performance, a mosh pit, bum racing, boxes on heads, arses in faces, and a man face down in a cupboard. 15 bodies, 16 hours, untold cans, and one big fucking clean up operation.

Painty people

On Sunday I went into town to get some new jeans and ended up buying a canvas and paints. Tony and Jayne came round and we did a bit of painted. I haven’t painted anything optionally since before I hit the teens, so I was quite pleased that I the paint on the canvas inside the lines and outside my ears.

Another successful weekend. Next up is Download Festival starting Wednesday!

I got an unexpected treat in the form of a day off on Friday, so on Thursday I drove back to Middlesbrough, surprising my mam shortly followed by an awesome night out in The Crown. It’s weird actually, I was in a Scream pub (name of the chain) in Coventry last week, telling tales of days gone by in The Crown and how I missed it so, then the next day I found out I was going to be making a visit! It seems Sambukius, the god of cheap shots, smiled upon me that day.

On Friday I got a haircut, then went for a few quiet pints in town to catch up with a few people who couldn’t make it out on Saturday night. I spent the night in the house, which I haven’t done in a long time without having people round.

circa 1992

On Saturday morning I went to a friend’s wedding. I can’t really describe how I felt to see the first friend I ever made getting married at the first wedding I’ve ever been to. They make a beautiful couple and it was an incredibly joyous occasion for all present, but it subsided it escalated the mild feeling of dread I’ve had about growing up since I turned 21. Congratulations to Mike and Marie Lester, doubtlessly having a wail of a time on honeymoon right now.

circa a few days ago (new blonde guy)

Then there was Saturday night. The best medicine for feeling like maturity could seize you at any moment is a shedload of cheap booze and a snog off a barmaid. Damn, I had a good night on Saturday night. Could be the best one I’ve had this year, rivalled perhaps only by last time I was in Boro. There’s tales that could be told but everyone who was out knows all about it. We know

Sunday was another long day. It started off hanging around in town a bit for Middlesbrough Music Live and catching up with a few more friends, and ended up enjoying a film with a friend from Coventry.  My Middlesbrough vacation was drawn to a pretty little close, and so was the biggest social catch up I’ve had in my life.  Bye!