Sunday, April 29, 2007
dear readers, i am worn out. herself decided that it would be a good idea to have a birthday party. this was not just for her but for himself, whose birthday is a week after hers. then she also roped in two other friends as well who are also april babes.
himself was not at all keen on the party idea. "loads of people will come to the house!" he wailed. "we will have to talk to them!" "that is the whole point of parties," said herself impatiently, "people come to your house and you talk to them. if you are really organised you have food and wine too. sometimes there is even dancing!"
preparations were ongoing for some time. the new pond was finished, lights and candles were put around the garden and huge amounts of food were made. catering was made a little trickier because herself had failed to keep track of who she had invited, and then even worse had failed to keep track of which people couldn't come. she went out and purchased a large salmon to poach. the first time she said she was going to poach a salmon i was all ready with my swimming trunks but it would appear that poaching is a cooking method rather than a way of saving money. she came back with not only a salmon but also a selection of lights. these included some rather nifty purple numbers shaped like flowers which she explained had solar lights in them. these were to float on the pond. "god, those are really vulgar!" said himself. he has become rather pretentious where the pond is concerned, particularly as he is what is known as a "hairy-arsed pompey fan".
the pond is supposed to be zen. this means calm and tranquil. my boy has been doing his best to prevent calm and tranquility settling into the pond. as soon as it was full he had his swimming trunks on and was swimming around in it. then a gaudy plastic pirate ship was launched. then the remote controlled hovercraft did a few speedy turns. "its more like butlins than tibet!" said himself.
the party approached. herself sat in the garden having her toenails painted red by her young friend. having your toenails painted seems to me a smart move. you cannot walk for ages while they dry so you have to issue orders and be waited on hand and foot which suits herself down to the ground. the young friend's boyfriend put hair gel on herself's hair in a vain effort to make her look more like a lurcher. mrs captain arrived with the most beautiful cake. i was placed on my lead and for a brief moment thought i was going to get a walk. but no. it was merely to stop me eating all the food. i cannot see why they could not spare a bit when there was so much but i did at least get to be stroked quite a lot by some very nice people including a very lovely autistic girl with wonderfully flappy hands.
candles were lit, including some that floated rather tastefully on the pond. music played. wine flowed and food was munched. my boy and his minder ( a usefully tall person who was able to fix things up without a ladder) started filming. "i am making a horror film." said my boy. "no ketchup!" warned herself. as i have said before, beefburger people take things literally. it was therefore no surprise to anyone when my boy's mate was intercepted up to his elbows in salsa. "its for blood!" he explained (herself had failed to list all possible types of food that could be used for special effects and the young folks had therefore found an alternative to ketchup). most of the young folks present were on the autistic spectrum. this seems to be a common feature with the peeps' friends. i suppose it makes it easier not having to explain why my boy has his head inside the washing machine and other oddities.
darkness fell. the horror film got darker too. suddenly my boy let out a shriek. "its on fire!" he yelled. people converged on the pond. it was indeed on fire. this could only happen to us. water is not supposed to catch fire. on closer examination it appeared that it was not the water that had caught fire but one of the vulgar lilies with solar lights in. one of the more intellectual guests commented that it reminded him of a viking longboat on its way to valhalla. my boy leapt into action and sploshed water onto the conflagration. this propelled it under a large and inflammable looking palm. "oh shit!" said my boy. he is not allowed to swear but as he was engaged in saving the peeps from homelessness if the house burnt down herself pretended not to hear. further sploshing put out the flames and order was restored.
this was not the end of the pyrotechnics for the evening. my boy has a particularly wild friend who has no sense of danger. while the peeps backs were turned the friend showed my boy a rather scary trick which involved filling your hand with gas from a lighter and opening it to show a flaming palm. herself took a dim view of the young folks being anywhere near a lighter, especially as the house is made of wood. they were made to sit quietly at the computer where they busied themselves setting fire to the sim people's kitchen.
the final guests left at 2.30am by which time i was ready for my pit. the peeps still haven't finished the clearing up. this is in part due to herself reading a book from cover to cover in between throwing cans and bottles into bags and himself sitting on the sofa watching football. my boy has been editing his horror movie which will shortly be released to the world. and in case you are wondering what the picture is - it is the melted vulgar lily...