Sunday, July 4
Prom Coverage Week Day 1: Before
So, the prom that was on Friday.
Its ironic, really. By the time this gets uploaded, I'll be on a canal boat, getting pissed as a fart. Right now, I'm recovering from long enough spent at work after... but today is not the dat you find out what actually happened. This is called "tension building". Today, its what it took to prepare me for the prom.
Me
This is Chyld, the hero of our tales. Its curious, since he happens to be me. He is quite well suited to the rigours of being a metalhead, drummer, and semi-professional stoner, but none of these are particularly good attributes for preparing for a prom. Except perhaps the getting stoned bit, but more on that later.
A suit
Apparently, blokes are obliged to wear suits to proms, and girls are obliged to wear ridiculously elaborate dresses. There's probably something to be said here, but we're not ranting for femenism right now. Isn't it curious that there's no male equivilant of femenism? Probably because the femenists would complain about it...
...sorry, back on track. My own suit has seen a lot of wear (a whole years worth!), and usually is found indulging in massive acts of hedonism. Here's a list:
>My cousins wedding, where me and my cousin I get on best with pilfered all the leftover champagne and white wine, got merrily pissed in a bizarre marquee thing, and pined for green.
>A party held by my one and only true lay, where I was ripping bongs half the night.
>My birthday party, where I got exceptionally plastered, had a joint, played Ring of Fire (a game involving drawing cards, drinking huge quantities, and talking properly), and threw up all over the bar.
>My granma's funeral. No hedonism there.
>...the prom. More tomorrow.
A Tie
I have several ties, but they're not enough. I have a tie with a dragon on it, that 'Brian Blessed' (crossref: forum, good friend, Friend Who Works At Foxes) has, a tie saying "Kiss Me", and a black tie for funerals. All good, but not what I wanted. I searched the entire internet for a black tie with a line of skulls down the middle, but I had no luck. So I wore the Kiss Me tie, in the hope that I would. Did I? You'll find out tomorrow! Be bloody patient! I've got to write a whole week of updates in two days!
A Date
Yeah, the other mainstay. Suits and women. It being me, it was obvious who I asked months ago to be my date. Back ages ago, before palava with us nearly having sex (ooh dear, shouldn't have told you all that! Never mind), her being flittish and indecisive, then going after another man while we were trying to sort everything out. There was a period when it seemed that we weren't going as a couple at all.
However, she phoned me at home at 1:15pm on the Friday, to explain everything that was going on. A combination of general horny-teenagerness, empathy, and only-being-awake-for-fifteen-minutes, resulted in me accepting her non-present apologies (slipping too far ahead again), and us being instated as a couple again. Want to know what happened? You know when to join us again...
A Corsage
Back in the golden summer of 2002, when MSN Messanger was still a relative novelty, and alcahol was a delightful illegal treat as opposed to what you buy in the pub on Friday, I was talking to CompleteAnarchy on MSN, and talk turned to the rapidly approaching Year 11 Prom. "r u getting k80 a crosage?" he asked. Not knowing what a crosage was, I consulted every source I could find on the matter: the dictionary, and my mother. The former was not helpful, the latter suggest "corsage", and told me that it was a flowery arrangement one got ones prom date. Thus enlightened, I told him "Yes". Well, if anyones going to be a gentleman, I am...
I ordered a delightful arrangement of white orchids for my lady, and he ordered one made of roses for his. Fortunatly, K80 had a black and white dress on, and CA's missus had a red one. I sense this was more design than chance. I can't remember.
This year, I decided to do exactly the same thing. Since K80 wasn't being helpful (here's a hint, younger ladies: get your dress earlier than "the day before", so we can choose colours properly), I ordered a colourful collection of... I don't even know what they were called.
On the same day, TinyOne felt it time to tell me that said date was messing around with other men while I was being all nice and Chyld-like. Much abuse headed K80-ward, declarations of "she's not my date" were batted round, and the corsage was being assembled. In the end, as you now know, we patched it all up, and I picked up my bizarrly white corsage.
Just for reference, the corsage pictured is almost the same as the one I bought.
Finally, there's the things I used to pretty me up. Enough chemicals to keep a meth-head in business, enough smelly things to kill a thousand Nurglings, and some mud. I can't be arsed to list them all.
Now, come back tomorrow, when I actually begin to speak of what actually happened!
Its ironic, really. By the time this gets uploaded, I'll be on a canal boat, getting pissed as a fart. Right now, I'm recovering from long enough spent at work after... but today is not the dat you find out what actually happened. This is called "tension building". Today, its what it took to prepare me for the prom.
Me
This is Chyld, the hero of our tales. Its curious, since he happens to be me. He is quite well suited to the rigours of being a metalhead, drummer, and semi-professional stoner, but none of these are particularly good attributes for preparing for a prom. Except perhaps the getting stoned bit, but more on that later.
A suit
Apparently, blokes are obliged to wear suits to proms, and girls are obliged to wear ridiculously elaborate dresses. There's probably something to be said here, but we're not ranting for femenism right now. Isn't it curious that there's no male equivilant of femenism? Probably because the femenists would complain about it...
...sorry, back on track. My own suit has seen a lot of wear (a whole years worth!), and usually is found indulging in massive acts of hedonism. Here's a list:
>My cousins wedding, where me and my cousin I get on best with pilfered all the leftover champagne and white wine, got merrily pissed in a bizarre marquee thing, and pined for green.
>A party held by my one and only true lay, where I was ripping bongs half the night.
>My birthday party, where I got exceptionally plastered, had a joint, played Ring of Fire (a game involving drawing cards, drinking huge quantities, and talking properly), and threw up all over the bar.
>My granma's funeral. No hedonism there.
>...the prom. More tomorrow.
A Tie
I have several ties, but they're not enough. I have a tie with a dragon on it, that 'Brian Blessed' (crossref: forum, good friend, Friend Who Works At Foxes) has, a tie saying "Kiss Me", and a black tie for funerals. All good, but not what I wanted. I searched the entire internet for a black tie with a line of skulls down the middle, but I had no luck. So I wore the Kiss Me tie, in the hope that I would. Did I? You'll find out tomorrow! Be bloody patient! I've got to write a whole week of updates in two days!
A Date
Yeah, the other mainstay. Suits and women. It being me, it was obvious who I asked months ago to be my date. Back ages ago, before palava with us nearly having sex (ooh dear, shouldn't have told you all that! Never mind), her being flittish and indecisive, then going after another man while we were trying to sort everything out. There was a period when it seemed that we weren't going as a couple at all.
However, she phoned me at home at 1:15pm on the Friday, to explain everything that was going on. A combination of general horny-teenagerness, empathy, and only-being-awake-for-fifteen-minutes, resulted in me accepting her non-present apologies (slipping too far ahead again), and us being instated as a couple again. Want to know what happened? You know when to join us again...
A Corsage
Back in the golden summer of 2002, when MSN Messanger was still a relative novelty, and alcahol was a delightful illegal treat as opposed to what you buy in the pub on Friday, I was talking to CompleteAnarchy on MSN, and talk turned to the rapidly approaching Year 11 Prom. "r u getting k80 a crosage?" he asked. Not knowing what a crosage was, I consulted every source I could find on the matter: the dictionary, and my mother. The former was not helpful, the latter suggest "corsage", and told me that it was a flowery arrangement one got ones prom date. Thus enlightened, I told him "Yes". Well, if anyones going to be a gentleman, I am...
I ordered a delightful arrangement of white orchids for my lady, and he ordered one made of roses for his. Fortunatly, K80 had a black and white dress on, and CA's missus had a red one. I sense this was more design than chance. I can't remember.
This year, I decided to do exactly the same thing. Since K80 wasn't being helpful (here's a hint, younger ladies: get your dress earlier than "the day before", so we can choose colours properly), I ordered a colourful collection of... I don't even know what they were called.
On the same day, TinyOne felt it time to tell me that said date was messing around with other men while I was being all nice and Chyld-like. Much abuse headed K80-ward, declarations of "she's not my date" were batted round, and the corsage was being assembled. In the end, as you now know, we patched it all up, and I picked up my bizarrly white corsage.
Just for reference, the corsage pictured is almost the same as the one I bought.
Finally, there's the things I used to pretty me up. Enough chemicals to keep a meth-head in business, enough smelly things to kill a thousand Nurglings, and some mud. I can't be arsed to list them all.
Now, come back tomorrow, when I actually begin to speak of what actually happened!
