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After finishing dinner (and gargling for 20 minutes trying
to hide our curry stink breath) we drove to center of Essex nightlife,
which is made up of a couple of bars and clubs located in a giant
mall in Basildon. A place which Grant's lil' sister so brilliantly
nicknamed Bas Vegas.
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the gleaming seductress
that is Bas Vegas! The minute we stepped out of the car, our
pulses quickened as we were bathed in her come-hither neon glow.
We first went into a "pre-club bar" called Bond's where
we met up with some of Grant's friends from high school. Here's
the
Grizza with HS chums Martin Green and Matt Blake (Greeney
& Blakey, respectively).
Oh, and let's not forget the lovely ladies! Charlene brought
the cavalry! Here's me with Dani, Charlene and Tracey.
The bar was fucking hilarious. There were TV mounted all over
the place that were showing "hi-light" clips of rowdy things
that had happened in the bar on an endless loop. Here's one of
my faves: a line of people laying their heads on the bar backwards
while the bartender pours down the line directly into all of
the mouths.
Best. Photo. Ever.
Seriously though, who else can make the biddies giggle like
the Grizza? NO ONE, that's who! Check out Dani all touching
his chest and shit. Kid's the fucking mack.
ESS-EX! Ladies lemme hear you now!
ESS-EX! C'mon where my nig-noggz at?
Hahahah. What's better than Fatty's face in this picture?
After warming up at the pre-club bar, it was time to head over
to THE CLUB! We left Bond's and walked all of 50 ft across the
parking lot over to a club called "Ikon." (This place
actually housed two clubs, Ikon is for 18-25 year olds, and the
other side of the club was called "Diva" and it was
for people 25 and up. Grant pointed out all sorts of 45 year
old drunk single
women and explained that in local slang, "25 and up" clubs
are more commonly called "Grab-a-Grannies." Awwwwwwesome.)
Right when we got into the club, Grant ran into John Henderson,
yet another high school pal of his.
Here's Steve, Charlene, Chris, Dani, Grant and the Fatty out
on near the dancefloor and visibly liquored up at this point.
And hey, I bet you'd completely forgotten that this was Halloween
night. We'd almost forgotten too - or at least until Charlene
and Dave found these creepy masks that the put on. (This was
our first Halloween in two years that we didn't get to attend
Viola's
"My Friends
are
All
Out
of Your
League"
Supermodel
Party [2002, 2001].)
Here's the dancefloor of the 25 and under club on the other side
of the building. See those screens on the background? They kept
flashing a phone number on the screen and if you sent a text
message to it, they'd post whatever you'd texted on the big screens
for everyone to see. I'm telling you, they're living in the future over
there in Essex! The future!
Grant in a rare "I'm on the dancefloor but I'm not doing the
Molly Ringwald dance" moment.
Meanwhile, across the dancefloor, I was about to take Dani to
a little place I like to call Jersey Boogie School.
Hahahaha. Check me out all dancing all low up in her booty.
My disco finger brings all the girls to my yard. I could teach
you but I've have to charge. Dig? (By the way, if I die anytime
soon, make sure this pic finds its way into the casket collage,
mmmkay?)
Grant and Steve.
Charlene getting her dance on (if you look over her shoulder
you'll see Dani and I cutting some rug in the background trying
to get in on her pic).
Hahahaha. Right before the shutter clicked Grant bombed Chris
with a super sneaky "Who does this guy think he is?" pose.
Grant and Martin give up a lil' "Blue Steel" cheekbone action
for the cam.
Martin on the dancefloor doing' the watusi. Shortly after this
picture was taken, Martin told me a story that made me laugh
so hard I almost crapped in my pants. Apparently, a friend of
his from high school named Barry Quested (aka - Bazza Big Balls)
has testicles the size of tennis balls. He and Martin traveled
to Turkey together and when Martin left his camera unattended,
the Bazza took Martin's camera, and used it up the remaining
exposures taking a bunch of pictures of his ginormous balls.
An unknowing Martin
dropped
the film off to be developed a few days later with a young girl
who was working at the film processing center. When he returned
a few hours later to pick up the film, the girl had been sent
home (keep in mind, Turkey is VERY sexually repressed) and Martin
was instead greeted by several very bearded, very angry men.
They threatened to have him arrested and as they handed him
the envelope of photos, one of the men just kept saying "Dese
are AWFUL! JUST AWFUL!" Over and over again.
Martin and er, some guy dressed up as a priest.
Grant was all excited because he thought this woman was dressed up as something
for Halloween
but then a few days later he saw the picture and realized that she was just
dressed up as herself.
Random gangsign.
This guy that's getting pointed to was awesome.
Here's a better pic of him. He was dating this girl who had these
weird saggy titties and no bra and the entire time they were
making out on the dancefloor he kept taking her titties and TWISTING
the fuck out of them.
Grant demonstrates. It was amazing.
Dani and the Fatty (who, by the looks of this photo, has had
a few drinks).
After I was done showing Dani my moves out on the dancefloor...
...it was time to seal the deal with some sweet, sweet makeout.
Just in case you didn't get a good look at my expression in the
pic above, here's a close-up.
Get Lucky...
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...Loverboy.
Hahaha.
As people started passing out all around us, we decided it was
probalby best to pack it up and call it a night. We'd made it
through the night without anyone even trying to pick a fight
and figured it'd be best to quit while we were ahead.
The group headed outside for our last round of goodbyes. With
the exception of Grant who was staying behind for a few more
days to hang with his family, the rest of us were heading back
to the States in the morning.
Here's me with, um, something tied around my head showing of
something called the "Cheeky Girls Gallery." Huh?
Fatty, Charlene, Martin and Dani.
The only question I have is how did we not get beat up? Look
at us.
We posed for one last group photo before all going our separate
ways. Let's hear it for Halloween 2003. Wooooo!
On the way home, we stopped for a little McDonalds drive thru
action.
Mmmmm....delicious guilt.
The first thing the four of us did upon getting back to Grant's
parents house was off our shiney shoes.
Size 12 foot in size
9 shoe = Swollen, red big toe! Ouchie.
Right before going to bed, we caught Grant dancing around in
front of the mirror in his little bikini underwear - I tried
to take a picture, but he saw me and dived to block the lens
at the very last second. You're a lucky, lucky boy Mr. Stoddard.
After icing my angry toe, I donned the lovely Gemma's sleep mask
and slipped off to Nigh-nigh land to dream of slutty Essex girls
and homeward bound airplanes.
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