Shed End 07/08 Piss Up

And so it comes round again. Another opportunity for Gullit4 to demonstrate that unkept hair and poncey cider mix as charmingly as herpes and fellatio. However I am getting ahead of myself in a way that BJD failed to, as this tale starts weeks before G4 first mixed Magners with ice.

To say this event was cursed would be like saying Liam is least suave of the two brothers. The first calamity was when I failed to choose a date on which Liam was otherwise occupied. This was then followed by Satantanta moving the match from Saturday to the Monday night and thus we had the unfamiliar occurrence of a piss up with no game to see!

Then, on the night before the grand event, the official photographer pulled out faster than a born again Christian and whilst Mod wept for the Shed End gallery's loss I panicked as I realised I wouldn't be able to pad this out by using over sized photos!

For me the day started well. I didn't sleep through my alarm, I did have a swift pint in Glasgow airport, I didn't miss my flight and I did land safely at Gatwick. Meanwhile, in Dublin, an alarm clock's shrill ring-a-ding-ding was met by no more than a hungover groan, possibly a fungus inducing chocolate air biscuit and ultimately the vision of grandeur you see below.

So whilst EZY787 carried me safely South there was a RyanAir flight with an empty seat where BJD should have been sitting! However he is not a man to give up without a fight and he made plans to catch a flight to Birmingham and get a train from Birmingham New Street in time to meet the crowd mid afternoon.

10.45 I land at Gatwick. I turn on my mobile, a missed call from the good lady wife, and a voice message. 'How sweet' I think, 'probably calling to wish me well' - not exactly. 'Errr Loz, remember I used your bank card last night to go to the supermarket? Well I didn't put it back!'. I check my wallet, she isn't lying, I have a tenner to my name and I am still at the airport - many phrases spring to mind, none of them in the bible.

Meanwhile, in a pub in Croydon, Katznutz, Tim W and Katznutz's mate Scott manage to persuade the publican to let them in before opening time - I think it took about the same level of persuasion that it takes Liam to reapply lemon juice to his hair. I get to the train station and breath a sigh of relief when I discover my tenner will at least get me to Croydon.

Once in Croydon my first port of call is to a bank manager with a heart of pity - I can recommend him to halfwits worldwide. Three pints were consumed in Croydon during which Katznutz shared tales about the trip to Ibrox in the summer for the pre-season friendly against Rangers. Tales which involved Scott missing his flight home and drunkenly knocking on doors in Glasgow asking strangers for a lift to the airport!

Sadly, for reasons of a personal nature, Katznutz couldn't join us for the rest of the festivities (good luck mate) and so at about 1pm Tim W and I bid him, and Scott, a fond farewell and jumped on the tram to Wimbledon, then the tube onto Fulham Broadway. Prior to getting on the tram I received a call from a distressed Gullit4, it was hard to make out what he was saying due to the excessive wailing and grinding of teeth however what I did hear was 'LOZ! HELP, I'M LOST!!' Yes folks that's right, a boy who lives in London, goes to the Bridge every other week phones a handsome adonis who lives in the West of Scotland for directions to a pub in SW6.

The Shed End 2008 piss up curse struck once more as Tim W and I made our way from Fulham Broadway to the Fulham Mitre. Like Alex Curran's legs, the skies opened and by the time we reached the pub we were wetter than Gem in a sauna with Frank Lampard. Already there were G4, Phillip, Phillip's Old Lady (his words not mine) and Valerie.

Meanwhile BJD had managed to get a seat on a plane to Birmingham and fortunately the man who he had bumped off the flight managed to arrive safely as well. Things were looking up for the southerner with the Brummie accent. Looked like he was going to make it after all.

Word of Tim W's arrival spread and within seconds the others appeared. We were joined by Jane, Liam, Liam's brother (Donald) and Nat (wearing a crash helmet, body padding and looking a little like this).

The beers flowed and, as you would expect from minds so great, we found a cure for three previously untreatable diseases (all of which boiled down to eating porridge for breakfast), were treated to G4 stealing coffee for Jane, agreed that Roy Keane is a 'mad paddy' and came to the rational conclusion that swearing is fun.

Meanwhile, at Birmingham airport a black cab taking BJD to Birmingham New Street decided to have an 'adult discussion' with a long term parking courtesy bus and the respective drivers decided to follow suit. The police needed a witness and the Thompson Twins biggest fan fitted the bill.

By this time we had moved outside to sit in the decking area of the pub to allow the smokers to smoke and the non smokers to revel in the sound of wildlife scaring thunder and the kind of rain that would knock Didier Drogba off his feet and have him calling for a stretcher. The concept of sitting down and standing back up was beginning to prove difficult for G4, as was standing at the bar without falling through the bar hatch (anyone who has seen the classic 'Only Fools and Horses' clip will know what I mean).

At some point Phillip and Jean (his 'old lady' - apologies if the spelling is wrong) decided to go to the Chelsea Megastore - they were never seen again, for all we know there could now be two American werewolves in London. Also around this time I am alleged to have made some disparaging remark about women and make up, I would defend my corner but seeing as I had a fair few ales by then and Jane was drinking cranberry juice it is pretty safe to say her recollection may be more credible than mine.

Meanwhile, back in Birmingham BJD was doing his impression of Cheryl Tweedy. By that I mean he was being asked for a statement by PC Plod, not that he was making a poor choice in husband. It is at this stage that he finally accepted he wasn't going to make it to London and we bid farewell to his tale of woe!

Back at the pub the chat was flowing. G4 took humour to a whole new level by declaring to passing women that I was an idiot, a joke he told many times before the night was out and each time he found it funnier than the previous time - at the same time he was drooling. Throughout this Valerie was confirming that being Dutch meant loving porn, taking copious amount of drugs and enjoying humorous anecdotes about grassy knolls. She also took time to correct our pronunciation of Dutch player's names, we are actually pronouncing them correctly, we are just not expectorating at the right syllables.

Two plates of nacho's appeared and promptly disappeared - G4 seemed to take them in by osmosis whilst Liam was canny enough to tuck a few behind his ear so he could have the pleasure of eating the last piece. Meanwhile Jane was teaching us boys a thing or two about swearing with style, Donald was impressed 'feck' he uttered - fair to say he wasn't learning much.

'What of Nat?' I hear you ask. Well Nat had spent the previous seven hours wrestling with a variety of outdoor patio heaters obsessed with the notion to get the buggers working, there was, after all, a collection of brass monkeys in the corner asking people if they could borrow a welding kit. Eventually he succeeded and, after his face returned from scarlet to simply rouge he introduced a friend to the group then buggered off to the bar and left the poor girl at the mercy of a complete bunch of strangers - G4 drooled.

It was then time to bid farewell to Liam and Donald who had a prior engagement with a sign making company who they contracted to make up a 'No whites, cats or English' sign for the B&B they are opening up in Bournemouth. The drinking pace was beginning to wane, apart from Jane who had drunk so much coffee she was beginning to long after Pauly and consider buying a Lambretta.

Hunger pangs were kicking in as the night drew to an end so we ditched Nat and made our way to a Noodle House on Fulham Road. 'I'll have a Babycham' said G4 eventually settling for a glass of house red. For some bizarre reason a bowl of Hot & Sour soup seemed a good idea to me at the time - given that it would soon be mixing with ale and gin I think it is safe to say I would be regretting it in the morning. Discussions turned to the Shed End forums and G4 announced he had a hit list of 20 users. Pauly was number 18 even though Pauly had helped draw it up.

After the meal it was time to make our way back to our various beds for the night. G4 left us at Earls Court, Tim and I changed trains at Victoria leaving Jane to make her way on her lonesome. Val made the short stroll to posh hotelville. And so another piss up ended. Lessons learned is that next year we should make it a little earlier in the year to try and avoid fixtures being moved!

Shed End 07/08 Piss Up - What Loz Missed!

Introduction

Detailed below are some of the comments which were posted on the forum in the days after the 2007/2008 Shed End Piss Up. Liam lies - the defence rests.

BJD

I hope everyone had a good time. Saturday for me was a very painful day! I've just read Loz's account and as well as being hilarious its more or less true - except the fact about my Brummie accent.

I did something i have never done in my life and that is slept through an alarm. This meant a insane dash to Dublin airport only to get there a my gate was closing.

Which was a sickener. Cheapest flight i could get a London airport was 300 euro- not a chance. So i did the next best thing - Birmingham which i got for 70 euros, Had to wait 5 hours, but that's what bars and the NME are for.

Obviously the flight was late which meant I didn't get into Brum until just before 3. My plan was to get a cab to Solihull station and then get the first train to Marylebone (a journey I have done a trillion times) Within 10 seconds the taxi had been hit by a bus and within 30 seconds the respective drivers got into a nasty fight. The taxi driver came of worse and asked the police to press charges and asked me if I could be a witness and i tried to get out of it but the rozzers basically said I had no choice. This mean 2 hours at Sheldon nick and my day ruined. Bearing in mind my plan was to come back up to Brum later in the night i gave up and went out in Solihull instead.

So apologies to all, all my fault of course for missing the alarm! Roll on next year

Liam

It was a great pleasure meeting all of you, and Gullit4.

Ratings

Philip's old lady 9 Charming woman, pity we couldn't talk more.

Philip 7 Catholic. Married to Philip's old lady.

Valerie 8 First Dutch person in history with a sense of humour. Looked after Liam's brother very well.

Gullit4 6 Yes, that Gullit4, the one who started the "Shed End is Crap" thread and slagged off all his fellow posters. Had the nerve to show up. Every time he went to the toilet we spoke about him.

Bjd 8 Didn't arrive but kept us all amused with updates on his mishaps.

Loz 7 Freely admitted that he cheats on all the quizzes, and that was after only 1 pint. Went downhill from there.

Tim W 8 Also looked after Liam's brother, who was really impressed by him. Loses a point for not bringing his daughter.

Nat 9 Supplied the food, sorted out the heater, bought drinks. Cheers mate!

Jane 10 Beautiful, charming, with a great sense of humour and a wicked laugh. Stole the show, predictably enough.

Liam's Brother 8 Mixed well, listened respectfully, and laughed in the right places. Loses a point for terrorising Liam for the first 12 years of his life.

Philip

Hello, everyone. Phillip and his boss (formerly referred to as "the old lady") have returned to the States, but are in something known as a "zombie state", due perhaps to travelling across the pond. In any event, my regrets for not returning back from the Megastore mid afternoon, but we got caught in a hailstorm that soaked us to the bone, and so we went back to the hotel to dry up before we caught pneumonia. That London weather!!!!

We did take pictures, and once we return to a normal state in a day or two, we will post them.

Liam's ratings are spot on.

Katznutz

A fantastic account Loz! (Loz: aint he sweet)

Great to meet up again & with Tim too!

Thanks for the good wishes & I told Mrs Katz about our little meeting & she's glad I made the time (She says thanks too & she's still in hospital & will be for about another week I reckon)

Glad the others turned up & shame I missed the rest of the day

Valerie - the piss up, a different perspective!

Having fulfilled the promise to my parents to get them tea from Fortnum & Mason (you can’t find any tea in the whole of Greater Amsterdam, you see), I rush myself into the Fulham Mitre at 1.30 pm, fully expecting to be scolded by Loz for being late. However, only G4 got there before me, and to get back at Loz, we discuss how he can make the most money from his kids. Sell them as a complete package, or harvest the organs and sell them separately? This fruitful discussion is interrupted by the arrival of Phillip and his missus, Jean. Jean is wearing a Chelsea jumper, and catches the eye of a decrepit human blob, who proclaims himself to be an Arsenal fan. G4 gently entices him into a conversation on boring football, only to be accused of “knowing his football”. For G4, the afternoon can only go downhill from there.

Phillip has some an interesting jewellery. He’s wearing a ring with the Confederate flag, and I’m still not decided whether it’s a ring we should have kissed, or a throw-back from Lucretia Borgia with a slide-away top for his stash of poison, or an initiation gift from the Ku Klux Klan commemorating Phillip’s first successful lynching.

Slowly, the rest of the Shed End faithful drop in, impersonating drowning cats. Loz, Tim W, Liam (who assures me his brother is also on his way in), Jane, Nat (brave, I thought) with a Chinese girlfriend in tow (lovely girl, but we can’t agree on the Tibet issue), am I missing any names? There are some unfaithful missing, either with or without notice: BJD seems to have all the bad luck in the world, and is stuck in Birmingham giving evidence in a motor accident scene, Yorkleyblue has forsaken us for his wife (did she threaten him or is it a happy marriage?), Mick has forsaken us for his brother and sister-in-law (or was that his sister and his brother-in-law?), Paul Seery has man-flu, Bluebeard must have had a good excuse, otherwise he wouldn’t have abandoned us, Andy….. we don’t know what happened to him. We blame Setanta for the smaller turn-out than usual.

The list of cancellations makes Loz worry about whom I am going to have sex with, very sweet I thought. Once I find out he is without his credit card, Loz himself isn’t even close to making it to my shortlist, I can tell you that. Liam later on even decides it is necessary to save brother Donald from my clutches, although I was very civilised the entire evening.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, so we grab the opportunity to gossip and laugh at the absentees. Well, what do you expect, it’s their own fault, isn’t it? If only they had shown up, we wouldn't have laughed behind their backs, we would have laughed in their faces! As it is, I hear some stunning secrets about double identities, which I managed not to blab out despite the gallons of beer. Also, I discover that Jane, like me, can go happily without human contact for at least a week. I always thought I was the only misanthrope (since Scrooge got turned), but it not just me, it’s Jane as well! What a relief.

Despite the dismal weather, some of us sit outside. Liam and I, despite the fact that we’re not smokers, sit outside and smoke. We’re greeted by a scary pitbull dog called Shy. I think “I hope he’ll go after Liam first” and undoubtedly Liam thinks “I hope he’ll go after Valerie first”. We’re very relieved when Shy’s mummy decides it’s naptime for Shy. By now, we all have moved to the patio. The reason why my hangover the next day will prove to be not as bad as last year’s must be that I shiver most of the alcohol out of my system. God, I’m freezing my t*ts off!

Phillip and the missus, who decides she prefer to be called “loved one” but is afraid this may lead to people thinking that she’s dead, go off to raid the Chelsea Megastore, and promise to come back within the hour. They never return. What happened to them? Did that Arsenal supporter (the one who said G4 knew his football, remember? He won't let us forget it) wait for them and kill them off? Phillip will be identified by his ring, that’s a comforting thought. I hope someone finds their camera though, because they were the only ones taking pictures.

The rest of the afternoon and the evening is a bit hazy. I do remember losing the thread of my thoughts on quite a few occasions, but hopefully nobody noticed. At about 11 pm Loz, Tim, Jane, G4 and myself stumble out of the Mitre and get some food into us. We say goodbye in front of Fulham Broadway tube station, them 4 having to travel to get to their beds, I mercifully only have to crawl 2 minutes to mine.

Great fun, great fun! Next year with a match, and perhaps as early as October (then we wouldn’t have to wait so long). Oh, and G4 wins the Alpha-Omega Award for being there from the beginning till the end.

I still have some pics from this event if anyone wants to see them? Jane

I still have some pics from this event if anyone wants to see them? Jane

Yes, please, Jane - photos of the piss-ups of yesteryear would be most welcome!