Vomit; To eject matter from the stomach through the mouth

I KNOW you are excited to read this post after that B-E-A-UTIFUL title. 

You may have noticed, I seem to have had a lot of 'sick' incidents in my life. This was not always the case. As a child there is just ONE instance that I recall actually vomiting. 

I had been off primary school ill with a 'stomach bug'. I didn't truly believe I was ill and just wanted an excuse to be off school.

My brothers had finished school and had just gone to purchase a Hamster (Long haired Albino named Elvis, WELL cool). Now, because I was 'sick' Daniel wouldn't let me hold Elvis. I tried to convince him that I was fine... he was having none of it. 

In a fit of rage I stomped out of his room and across the landing to my room .... didn't quite make it. In fact 2 steps outside Daniel's room, I felt something building up my throat "MUM, DAD, I'M GOING TO BE SICK!!!!!"

"RACHEL GET IN THAT BATHROOM NOWWWWWW!!" (The bathroom was on the otherside of the landing next to my room..... at this point it may as well have been 10 miles away)

I didn't make it. I PROJECTILE vomited across the entire landing, it hit the airing cupboard, the stairs, the bannister, the bathroom door, EVERYTHING. 

It is safe to say my father was NOT best pleased. 

Turns out I was ill after all - I am convinced it was karma for faking it in the first place.

The puking was then put on hold for a good few years.... until alcohol entered my life quite heavily.

Some LOVELY spewing moments:

1) Eli's 'Pimps & Hoes' 16th Birthday party (Classy or what?!) - puking in Eli's backgarden whilst in mid conversation. Smoothering my brother's white tie in regurgitated food and alcohol. I didn't give it back.

2) Richard's house party in 6th form. Sitting on his doorstep spewing my guts out in the direct path of anyone entering the house. Having my eldest brother pick me up and hanging my head out the car window, puking into the wind the whole way home. My mother querying the cream specks that SMOTHERED the back end of her car the next day.

3) Laura's close family & friends gathering for her 18th - having had a fight with her boyfriend and humiliating myself completely - I let things escalate drink wise and spent a large portion of the night hanging my head down her toilet.

4) A random night in Suburban - got involved with a boy that had brought his own bottle of Sambucca in. Naughty. Had to be PUT in a Taxi. Puked my guts up all over myself, the taxi seat and partially on the back of the driver's head. Had to go via a petrol garage to get cash out and pay the taxi driver an additional £70 for 'ruining his seats for good'. Got home and got in the shower - Vomited in the shower.

On top of the world....... until it all came crashing down, in the taxi.

5) Another night in Suburban - Decided to ignore my hideous intolerance to Jagermeister. Got absolutely wasted (andddd emotional over a boy... how embarrassing) Puked in a number of different areas of the Bar's beer garden.... then kissed the boy in the above story (different night) IMMEDIATELY after. Feel quite bad for him in retrospect.... guessing another person's sick doesn't taste great. I had to return to the bar the next day for some Sunday drinks (whyyyyy I did this to myself I cannot remember).... one of the barmen and friends of mine said "I HAD TO CLEAR UP EVERY SINGLE BIG OF SICK YOU LEFT US RACH. THANKS, THANKS ALOT." What a state. 

Hazy. VERYYYYY Hazy.

6) Night out in Clapham, which AGAIN involved Jager. Stayed the night at my friend Lauren's. Woke up feeling god AWFUL, watched X Factor catch up (standard). Rang dad to pick me up as could not face the train in my state. Got in car. Dad did half a 3 point turn. RANNNNNNNN out of car and banged on Lauren's door - legged it upstairs and had my head in her toilet for a good 10 minutes. Dad was not impressed.

 

SAY NO TO JAGER. STUPID GIRL

Beef; a problem or grudge with someone (or alternatively the flesh of a cow)

Oceana kingston is the rather 'Idyllic' setting for tonight's story.

"Set in the beautiful Kingston Upon Thames - Oceana features 7 themed rooms, and brings together a hideaway of style and fun. " - BA HA HA HA HA HA HA ..... NO!!


The thing is... I may mock Oceana Kingston now, but truthfully this club was pretty much my prime location for nights out between the ages of 17 and 19. With the help of an older friend's passport until I 'came of age' I was able to spend EVERY.SINGLE* Monday and Wednesday there for about 2 years. FABULOUS RIGHT??!!


*Admittedly, there was a brief stint of utter MADNESS in the middle of  6 months in which I  (YES I!!!) was banned (YES BANNED!!!) from Oceana Kingston. This hideous injustice came at the hands of a bouncer who accused me of making 'too much noise' at 3am ..... OUTSIDE A CLUB..... when the ENTIRETY of Kingston's youth was also standing around making raucous noise. WHAT.A.PRICK.
NB: Just like the prison system in this country I only served half my sentence. BAM. 




Back to the point.   

A group of us were out for Corall's 'leaving for Nigeria' party. Having a giggle and a dance and taking an obscene amount of 'super cool' pouty photos sticking our fingers up in a 'trendy' manner.

Gosh we were cool. 


The night continued into the early hours and towards the end we were having a boogie in the "Venetian Grand Ballroom" - 'The grandeur of the room is complemented and enhanced by state of the art sound and light technology to provide you with a unique dance experience'. - Jokers.
Something happened at this point. A small fight broke out between my friends.... I am still not sure why, but I do believe it was to do with this young lad:

Either way.... the BEEF continued outside 'Oces'........

For once in an argument I was merely the innocent bystander. GO ME.


This rather boring fight - so boring I can't even remember its reasoning - went on for HOURS AND HOURS. It even got to the point that we had missed ALL the Taxis, NO buses were running (Night buses were a rare occurrence at the time)..... and all the chip shops were shut. 
This did not stop dear Jemma begging to be gained entry to her favourite garlic sauce joint.


  

Peering in like a lost puppy.....

Completely stuck in a cold Kingston we had no choice. We quite hideously rang Jemma's poor dad to pick us up.
How embarrassing. A pair of adults can't even find their way home. UGH. 
Having said that, I was able to ignore said embarrassment quite happily once snuggled up in the warm leather of Jem's 4X4. 






After relatively little sleep, Jem and I decided to go into Camden town.... far too active considering our state. As Jemma soon found out. 

The whole train journey into Waterloo Jem was fighting the urge to spew her guts out.... apparently. I 
really hadn't noticed, far too concerned with my own POUNDING frontal lobe.
We hopped off the train at Waterloo.. suddenly I see Jem's lanky striped legs BOUNDING towards the nearest pillar, at which point she WRETCHES and VOMITS everywhere!!!
LOVELY STUFF  
.....didn't stop her from delving into a nice Camden produced Bolognese though.....

Fast; Moving or capable of moving at high speed.

My family have always been a cat family.... well add in a few gerbils, hamsters, rats, a one day ferret and some pointless stick insects... but mostly cats.

While I am still living at home with my beloved catties, Tobey & Cleo....

  

......My brothers felt the need to rebel against the feline pet market and went for DOGS!!

Yogi Bear - the Rodeshian Ridgeback

Coco Pops - the Blue Whippet

Hunny Loops - the Miniature Daschund 

Special names I know.....

Anywhoo.... this story is about Coco, the incredibly speedy and uncatchable Whippet.

When Coco was a 'teenage' dog she was ridiculously hyperactive and quite uncontrollable.... but always lovely and good natured blah blah blah. 

My friends Jemma, Jamie and I were about to go on a picnic to Richmond Park, as it was a lovely warm day and we figured why the heck not. I, had a brief relapse in judgement, and quite stupidly suggested we take Coco. 

Having had some food and cracked open our ciders we were in full picnic mode. Coco, however was watching all the other dogs galloping around gleefully and was looking a little restless. 

Nervously, we decided to let her off her lead. 

Now, if you have visited Richmond Park you will know that it is not your average park. It is approximately 10 square Km in size. And I had just unleashed a WHIPPET, effectively a racing dog, into this vast grassland. OH CRAP

Whippet Stat: The Whippet is the ultimate sprinter, unsurpassed by any other breed in its ability to accelerate to top speed and to twist and turn with matchless dexterity.... something I am NOT.

The second Coco was let free she SPRINTED off after the nearest child.... her chosen victim was a small chinese boy that was happily flying a kite with his parents. 

Coco would never harm a child, however she does like to taunt them by running up at about 35mph and at the.very.last.second changing direction. She didn't quite hit the chinese boy, however he did fall to the ground from sheer fear and then we suspect he pooped his pants. WHOOPS, my bad. 

At this point the three of us jump up. Jemma and I are most definitely NOT sprinters, but WAIT... I realise we have Jamie with us - probably the fasted runner and keeno sportsman in my old school - he will catch Coco No problemo. 

I was WRONG.

The three of us were hecticly running all round the picnic site trying to control this stupid dog. The only time Coco would slow was when she came across other dogs. AHHH an epiphany. 

I went and stood next to a middle aged woman who had a rather dopey sheep dog - I pretty much used this woman and her old dog as bait. She understood my desperation thank god.

It worked. Coco was back on her lead and in our custody.

Unfortunately, it didn't end there. Coco had tasted freedom and she wanted more.

A few minutes later Coco ripped her lead out from under Jemma's bum.... we all leaped forward to catch it.... I grabbed hold of the ropey bit and as Coco bolted away I suffered the WORST ROPE BURN EVERRRRRR. 

Each of my fingers on my left hand was on fire! No time to whimper in agony - Coco was running at high speeds across Richmond Park with her long length lead locked at full capacity and bouncing around behind her. 

"JAMIE GET UP AND FUCKING RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!"

"COCCCCCCOOOOOOOOO"

If you are having trouble imagining the scene - watch this. 

SO... Jamie and Jemma both went running after Coco for a second time. I had no shoes on and had refused to go BOUNDING across the park trampling in deer and rabbit (and chinese kid) poop. Consequently, both Jem and Jamie had given me their ciders to hold and I had no hands free.

The guys had managed to get Coco running in the opposite direction and back to the picnic mat.....DIRECTLY towards me in fact. 

I faced a hard decision, do I:

A) Drop both ciders and literally THROW myself at the dog in the hope i catch her?

B) Keep hold of the ciders and go home to my brother empty handed (well... bar the cider) and dogless? - dramatic I know but it was looking likely at this point.

To be honest, I didn't have the time to make an informed decision. 

Coco ran STRAIGHT into me... pretty much causing a similar 'Chinese boy' accident, minus the poop. SOMEHOW (seriously, god knows how) I had managed to catch the rogue Whippet in between my knees. I was restraining her with sheer muscle (YEAHHHHHH strength of a thousand men!).

I SCREAMED out to Jem and Jamie to get their asses over to me pronto.... I surely couldn't hold her for long.

WE HAD HER!!! It was a good moment, and BONUS I still had the ciders in hand. 

We swiftly left the park, hanging our heads in shame at the palaver we had caused. Never to return (with Coco in tow) again. 

Continuation; The action of carrying something on over a period of time or the process of being carried on.

A few short hours after writing my previous post I received .. quite literally .... the LONGEST text I have ever seen!!
This text came from a certain older brother of mine.... and can only be described as an ENDLESS LIST of Australia based stories that I had rather stupidly managed to leave off my post.

So here we go..... Daniel Cooper hits Australia. Part deux
(I am not sure why I am allowing my family to take over my blog.... but the stories are amusing enough so ho hum).

We are currently on the plane to Singapore (on route to Oz). Daniel, now less Inebriated, more HANGING, is snoooooozing away (Meanwhile I am getting VERY pissed off with his uneven snoring pattern) 
The Air hostesses begin to bash their way through the aisles with their overly square and metal food trolleys - Lunch is being served. They get to the row before ours. I prod my sleeping brother.
"Dan... Lunch. Wake the hell up"
NOTHING
"Hmmmmmmm...." SIGH
Now.... I could put some effort in and wake him up - but then I will bear the brunt of his grumpy wrath.
PLUS.... he is hideously hungover and WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND wants plane food when hungover????
So being the exxxxcellent sister that I am. I left him to it.

An hour or so goes by.

"Rach.... what time is it? When are they serving food, i'm starving" ermmmmm AWKWARD.

ULURU

About half way into our trip we were staying in a hotel close to Ayre's Rock (Uluru either/or).
We had been to visit the large mounds of orange rock (don't get me wrong they actually ARE incredible) that evening and had watched the sunset over them with our flowing glasses of Champagne. Following this was the standard (but pretty awesome) night time BBQ under the stars - all very nice and very middle class English people on holiday of us.

Once this had finished we got the coach back to our hotel.

If any of you have visited Ayre's Rock you will know that the 'Full Uluru experience' does not end there, because apparently SUNSET is not enough, we have to see SUNRISE as well. Which equals horrendously early start for the Cooper family.
With this in mind... Daniel suggests the Cooper siblings take a trip to the hotel bar that night. Being quite late already our elder brother opts out.
Daniel and I hit the bar. Ohhhhhh the stupidity.
Once again on a family holiday Dan manages to get me absolutely trashed. AND once AGAIN ladies and gentlemen.... I spew my guts up. I have no recollection of this and was kindly reminded of it by said brother.
Early early... ever so early start to the day - hungover, feeling like crap, thinking it would be as scorching hot as it was the day before, i left my hotel room and flumped onto the coach.
Turns out Uluru does not warm up until the FLIPPING sun comes out!!!!!!  - why this didn't occur to me I am not sure.
I am there freezing my ASS off, hanging, in a sleeveless top, watching a rock. RUDDY HELL.

Ok, so Dan did lend me his jumper..... 


Plane Journey from HELL
I mentioned in my previous post that Daniel and I left Australia early due to work commitments etc. So we flew back a week earlier than our parents and brother.
My brother and I sat down.... we had pretty shocking seats in the middle row of the plane - always a chore, never a pleasure.
Reluctantly we took our seats. Now.... the Coopers are not small people. HOWEVER, what was about to sit in front of us made Dan and I look like the Borrowers. An absolutely TONK young man thudded his butt down on the seat in front of Dan - the seat dropped back a good few inches from his sheer bulk.
I LOLED. I had been forced into having the non aisle seat on account of my short stature and now I was indirectly having my revenge. 

I laughed too soon.
Suddenly, a woman.... EQUALLY as HENCH as the man approached the row in front of us. NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOO. The worst was happening.
This rugby shirt wearing 'lady' cLaMbErEd over her 'boyfriend' (Yeah, that's right... he didn't even get up) to quite literally FALL into her poor seat, which I genuinely heard SQUEAL as it  was forced to drop back a few inches.
The cherry on top - these were the kind of people that like to 'relaxxxxxxxxx' on their flight. This includes such activities as over drinking, loud chewing, burping, farting and PUTTING THEIR CHAIR BACK THE SECOND THE PLANE IS IN THE AIR. I hate these types of people!!!!!! Especially, when their chairs are already resting on my FOREHEAD just from sheer body force. 
Watching movies on the back of their chairs was an absolute JOKE. 

Unfortunately, we were also on a flight that had a mere 2 hour stop over in Singapore.
Translation - queue for 20 minutes to get off plane. Follow Dan to the (actually pretty scenic) Singapore Airport smoking area, sit in smoke clouds for 15 minutes. Go to Airport toilets in the mind set that I will be stuck on a plane for the next 13 hours - queue with my fellow passengers for 15 minutes. Grab a fruit smoothy at the single open cafe in our terminal, sit in absolute silence for 20 minutes. One last toilet trip - just in case. Hear boarding call to get back on flight. Queue for 20 minutes to sit back into our hideously unpleasing seats with our MAMMOTH friends in front of us.
WHAT.A.DREAM


We finally arrived back in England. HOMEEEEEEEE the land where Ozzy Rules does not exist - thank the lord!!!!! (MOST absurd sport ever!)
Just to give you a little re cap of my day:
We landed in England at 6.30am
Arrived home at 8.30am ish
I met my good friend Jemma for drinks and a Picnic along the Thames at 12.30 (having had a shower, etc... promise)
And then for some reason decided NOT to give in to my jet lag. No no.... having had zero sleep for potentially the last 40 hours... I went out that night to Oceana (GRIMMMMM).

THE RESULT: brace yourself.....

Inebriated; Exhilarated or stupefied by or as if by alcohol; intoxicated.

On my Gap year My family and I took a trip round Australia - via Singapore.
FYI: the Coopers all on holiday together, on the other side of the world, is REALLY not a great idea.


My story is specifically about a Master Daniel James Cooper:

Now before Daniel entered his current profession he was Bar Manager of our favourite Wimbledon watering hole - Suburban. Prior to this he was a Bar Man(ager) at TGI Friday's, as well as partaking in some part time DJing throughout. So, it is safe to say alcohol and partying was a major factor of Daniel's life for quite some time.

Just incase you were wondering...... this was the morning after the night above for my dear dear brother. Crayon Special.

Anyway, back to the point.
We were off fairly early to Heathrow to begin our trip to Australia - about 8am I think was the pick up time for Daniel.
We turned up at his house, cab filled with my family and our gigantic suitcases (we do NOT travel light). Dad nips out and rings Daniel's door bell. We wait a few minutes in the Taxi. No sign,
I go to the front door and keep my finger on the door bell for a good few long rings. FINALLY a confused looking creature answers the door.
"Dan, what the hell.... we have a plane to catch. Come on. Where's your suitcase?!"
"Ohhhhh er yeah.... ermmm wait let me go see.............. Yup there's my bag." - An open, half empty holdall lay on the floor with clothes thrown in willynilly.
"Right, soooo is this all you are taking? What have you even packed?"
"I'm not sure.... I don't remember doing it. It'll be fine"
PRICK!!! - It takes me HOURS and HOURS of stressing and endless checklists before I am comfortable enough to go off on holiday safe in the knowledge that 'It will be fine'!!!!
"OK, fine, whatever. Where is your passport?"
Daniel walks out of his room and into the kitchen. I throw a few more random clothes into his bag and zip it up. I walk into the kitchen to find Daniel with his face in the fridge.
"Dan, what you doing?"
"Looking for my passport, DUH"
"You're in the fridge you dick"
"Oh.... yeah.... may as well have some milk whilst i'm here"
"DANIEL. PASSPORT. NOW"
"CHILLLLLLLLLLLL. It's been in my back pocket the whole time. I put it there for safe keeping."

Thank god for that. I finally push Daniel into the Taxi and we set off.

Heathrow
So you know..... at this point in life Daniel has started hanging out in Wimbledon with ALOT of South Africans.  SOME (not all...) of which are notoriously racist.

Daniel is in NO WAY racist. However, he IS a big mouthed, cheeky, sarcastic git who is far too outspoken, especially when inebriated (Rather like his sister).
There happened to be a fair number of Black holiday makers in the airport that day and drunk daniel thought it would be HI-LAR-IOUS to start mocking them at the top of his voice..... with certain South African phrases spoken in a hideously un-PC accent.
Since Daniel is the tallest member of the family - it was difficult to stop his voice from carrying. Short of throwing a few punches his way there wasn't much I could do.

We finally found our check in desk and proceeded to hand all our luggage over. We all stood there nervously knowing that Daniel is not clever in these situations at the best of times - let alone when PESSED.

E.g. The year we went to Greece the check in lady asked if we had any guns or knives in our bags. Daniel being the DOUCHE he is exclaimed.... "Yeah, i've got a giant machete in mine". The lady did not take his sarcasm lightly and it took ALOT of persuasion before she believed he was kidding.
FUNNY BOY.


Right, this time however there was a question of lighters not being allowed on board in our baggage or on our persons. Daniel being both a barman and a smoker was likely to have some on him. We all turned to look at him.
He started drunkenly fumbling around his many...many... many pockets..... as well as through his luggage and pulled out lighter after lighter. I believe the count reached a WHOPPING 16 lighters.
SO unnecessary


Next came Customs. What a barrel of laughs that was. I some how got lumbered with the job of looking after the drunken imbecile in one queue whilst my parents and other brother Andrew scampered off into another queue.
I went ahead of Daniel. Error.
We were asked to remove our shoes. OK... I did mine pretty easily and throw all my hand luggage into a tray.
Daniel however, was causing quite a scene behind me. He was wearing pretty baggy jeans with no belt.
It would seem that as dear Daniel bent down to pick his shoes up - his jeans (and boxers) went with him....... MUCH to the dismay of an old couple stood DIRECTLY behind him.
I spun round, reacting to the squeal of an old lady, and saw Daniel with pretty much his entire arse on display. I subtly gestured to Dan to pull his jeans up and get the hell out of the way.
NO such luck. Daniel whipped his jeans up and then turned around to shake the poor old lady's hand.
OH THE SHAME.


We Finally Finally made it onto the flight.... thank god that ordeal was over.

ORRRRRR NOT...

Turns out that for the rest of my flight... and holiday in fact.... I was assumed to be Mrs Cooper, Daniel's wife.
This was a mind-numbing error on the travel company's part as Daniel and I were both flying back earlier than Mum, Dad and Andrew for work. The Travel company just could not get to grips with this and came to the conclusion that we must therefore be a married couple.
On every International flight, internal flight, hotel reservation and tour booking we were mistaken for a happily married couple.
OH Fanbloodytastic. 

The Cooper Family on Ramsay Street. Yeahhhhhh.

Horrific; causing horror

In 2006-2007 I took an impromptu Gap Year. This was partially down to my sheer laziness at not applying to Art school with any real gusto and partly because my inner preppy just wanted to doss around and go traveling for a bit. 

In May I went Interailing with my very oldest best friend Laura. We did a tour of Italy and then went up into Paris. 

We were two EXTREME backpackers on a journey of discovery.

YEAHHHHHH HARDCORE EXTREMISTS!!!!

In all honesty - most of the trip was spent mocking foreigners, eating ice cream and taking photos of eachother's faces infront of famous Italian tourist attractions. 

Looking back, I realise now that we really should have taken the focus away from our 'youthful' faces.

We started in Rome.

A nice enough place... during the day, bar the huge lake of urine that seemed to lurk outside the main train station.

One of the nights we were on our way back to the hotel after some dinner and drinks, when a young Italian boy offered us some yellow roses.... for money. In our well mannered young English girl way we sweetly declined the flowers and walked on. The horrid little boys ran after us and threw the roses at our heads, whilst shouting perverse profanities in his native tongue. Slimy Git 

Next came Pisa. 

A very lovely and scenic place to visit. Nothing hideous to report.

WELL, except the actual climbing of the tower of Pisa, which came with an incredibly dizzy downwards jaunt caused by the Tower's serious subsidence issue. 

They REALLY ought to get that fixed. 

Florence

Erm. yeah. So dull I actually forgot about it and skipped straight to Venice whilst writing this post. 

We queued up to see The David for 3 WHOLE HOURS in smoldering sun. 

It was magnificent. The rest of the museum was shocking. 

VENICE - ONE OF MY FAVOURITE PLACES EVER!! Stunning, lots of shops, cafes, water, river boats, bridges and nice people.

However, we did get ridiculously LOST on our way to our Hostel/ Camp site thingy. So badly lost in fact, that we rang our parents in England and actually expected them to be able to help. Absolutely no logic there then. 

Losing the will to live whilst lost on the outskirts

Two more things - Venice smells slightly of sewers in hot weather and Laura got pigeon pooed on in St. Mark's square. BA HA HA

Having been pooed on 8 times in my life by this point I was DAMN shocked it wasn't me. 

Milan

OH MY GOSH - the most overrated place on earth. 

Be warned - the men that reside here can be likened to horny pubescent neanderthals that have no qualms with looking you up and down, whistling, making depraved comments and even doing the following......

It was 8am and Laura and I were moving on from one Milan Hostel to a nice B&B closer into town (a treat to ourselves).

We were plodding along a main road, carrying our huge backpacks, no make up and very tired. We see a casual Italian jogger running towards us wearing a pair of VERY short bright green running shorts that left very little to the imagination.

 

The guy strode up to, gave a little smirk and looked us both up and down. He then decided to lift both sides of his shorts up and revealed a rather large, shaven, purple penis, which, with the movement of his jogging flew past us HELICOPTER styley. He had the audacity to shove his way IN BETWEEN me and Laura whilst displaying his manhood in all its phallic glory. 

THEN he crossed over the road and started to run back ahead of us in an attempt to over take us and perform the whole indecent exposure for a SECOND TIME!!!

Both Laura and I actually started shouting across the street and telling him to bugger off, it finally worked and he ran off into the park to no doubt scare some unwitting old pensioner out of her skin. 

Paris went off without a hitch - just a WONDERFUL day spent in Disneyland in bright yellow ponchos reliving our youth.

.........Oh also, don't bother going to the Musee du Louvre. It is shit. That is all.

Mock; Tease or laugh at in a scornful or contemptuous manner.

I have a Special friend.

His name is Alex.

Likes: Bagels, mild cheese, Dr Pepper, Menthol cigarettes, pickled onions from the jar, laughing at those less fortunate than him, spending all day in his boxers, mopping the floor, awful reality TVshows, his mum, spooning, snap caps, Vans, singing at the top of his voice and wet farts.

Dislikes: Loud chewing (lad after my own heart), unavailable washing machines, mature cheese, shopfloor work, slow walkers, people blowing their nose, mess in the bathroom, dust, clumps of hair, taking his coat off and housemates not following his every rule.


There are two stand out occurrences in my time of knowing Alex that can make me LOL any place and any time.... even years later.
Although, I will admit, quite often his face or a whitty/degrading/pompous comment will also do the trick. E.g.

Incident one:

I was having a good old fashion Mancunian night out at Warehouse Project with these fine people...

We had all been drinking for a few hours already and the tomfoolery continued inside the club/derelict car park.

Alex was growing increasingly messy and had decided to hit the bar and buy 4 more cans of beer. 

Not sure why he bought four all at once but his decisions often allude me.

The girls and I were watching and waiting from a small distance.... after Alex had bought his drinks he SPUN round and started walking towards the main room.... quite out of the blue his legs picked up some  unexpected speed. 

We all began to notice that he was moving far too fast for his feet to carry him. 

The sheer weight of transporting one can in each pocket and one in each hand had caused him to double over, his face parallel with the floor - he broke into what can only be described as a swift canter, with zero control over his velocity or direction. 

SUDDENLY Alex fell forward HEAD FIRST straight into some wired fencing where two huge bouncers were standing. 

All I recall, is seeing Alex, arse in the air surrounded by dumfounded bouncers and his unopened cans rolling across the ground towards us like tumbleweed.
The whole saga reminded me of a small child in the playground that hasn't quite got to grips with his limbs and consequently falls head over heels in the most numb-skulled and ungraceful of ways. 


Incident two:
We were all at a houseparty at Rob's house.
Our friend Flossie had managed to get quite overly drunk. After lots of embarrassing and painful falls to the floor we lovingly plonked her in the spare bed upstairs.
Being the great friend that I am, I stood back and documented the whole thing on my camera.

Now, Flossie had decided to have Spaghetti for dinner that night... and following that drank copious amounts of Rose wine at the party. So you can just imagine what her B-E-A-Utiful vomit came out like.
I will note that pretty much every guest spewed at this particular party but Flossie was the first to crack.


The poor spare bed took an absolute battering of the semi-digested food kind.
A new boy was due to move into this house in two days - in lieu of cleaning the mattress, Rob decided to just flip it over. GREAT GUY.
Right, it got to the point that we felt Flossie should either have her stomach pumped or go home. The boys attempted to carry her down the stairs - keeping her low slung jeans and knickers from revealing her dignity was a massive issue but we will bypass that quickly.
Alex was one of these helpful boys - Kudos to him for that.
Once Alex had helped drop Flossie on the doorstep he came back in and stood in front of me.

I took one look at his chin and the hugest bladder paining GAFFOR of laughter erupted from my mouth.

"What????!!! WHAT?? TELL ME NOW!!!! OI Bitch tell me right now before I slap you!!"

Hanging from Alex's chin was a piece of regurgitated pink spaghetti straight from the depths of Flossie's stomach. OH MY GOSH.
If you know Alex you will KNOW that this could not have happened to a more deserving person.