"When you're footloose & you just feel limbless..."

I've been suffering with blogger's block a bit this week.
With this in mind it's time to turn to the trusty timeline.

Autumn 1984: Got absolutely legless for first time at a friends birthday party.

My memory of this party is sketchy at best but I'll relay what I can.
I think it was November & it was the birthday of Flickyhair. Flickyhair was one of my friends from the 2nd tier, so to speak. He wasn't one of my best friends but I did hang out with him a lot & he was quite the geezer. In terms of girls he tried with extremely limited success to be my mentor. This was a thankless task. At 14 I was the archetypal ugly duckling (not that I'm a beautiful swan now but you know what I mean) & the girls gave me a very wide berth. He did manage to get me together with Baff. Baff was not a pretty thing but she did turn out to be the first girl who I ever kissed properly. Ghastly experience.

Much to the amusement of everybody in the whole school, if not the whole city, Flickyhair's dad drove a Robin Reliant. I once during the holidays went to Mablethorpe with him & his folks in said car. Bizarrely, as we made our way to the Lincolnshire coast, every other 3 wheeled crapmobile that we saw was greeted with over-enthusiastic waving & flashing of lights by the family Flickyhair. Odd types these Robin Reliant drivers!
I also seem to remember that The Duke Of Jokes took a trip to sunny Mablethorpe with the Flickyhairs. I'm still mentally scarred by the legend that was written in the sand in colossal letters by my "friends"; Flash is a wanker. Bastards!

Anyway, back to the party. It was held in Wrenthorpe, about a mile from my house (& still the home to The DOJ). So I cycled down there on Ronnie, my lovely racer.
The guests at this gathering numbered 7, 3 girls & 4 boys. Flickyhair's parents had gone out for the evening & left us to it. I remember there being lots of cider. I drank lots of cider. It became apparent very early on that 4 into 3 didn't go & guess who was the odd one out. It wasn't long until I was sitting on my own with only the record player & a 2 litre bottle of cider for company.
I played Frankie Goes To Hollywood's "Welcome to the pleasuredome" which I then proceeded to sing to the rabbits in the garden. Only then did the other revellers remove their tongues from each other's mouth to see what was going on. Oh how they laughed. They then went on to play with me like I was some sort of toy. Let's give him more cider & see what he does then! The undoubted highlight of my evening then came. Sensing how upset I must have been to have been left on my own to get in such a state, one of the girls hung with me a little while. BBB was one of the few girls in my school that didn't treat me like a leper. Incidentally she is also the owner of the first ever nipple I touched some months later. Sadly for me her tonsil tennis partner was getting impatient & wanted her back. She stood up, pulled me to my feet, looked at me sadly & said sorry. She then totally shocked me by giving me what was without question the loveliest snog of my young life. Aaah...
I skipped off into the garden to serenade the rabbits some more when I started to feel a bit odd. There was no time to study this feeling or compare it to other sensations that I'd previously experienced because before you could say "petrified bunnies" I had started to vomit in a projectile stylee. And it didn't end.
For the first time in hours I saw Flickyhair. He was gonna sort me out, make me better. He was going to accomplish this by using all manner of tricks that he'd clearly learned from watching Minder or Prisoner Cell Block H. Plying me with copious amounts of black coffee was his first option. I'm sure I don't need to tell you the result of that action. I was very reluctant to comply with Plan B.
"You want me to get in that freezing cold bath with all my clothes on??? No way!!!"
I did put up a brave struggle but I was heavily outnumbered & soon I was very wet, very cold & still very drunk.
Around this time Mr & Mrs. Flickyhair returned & I was saved from anymore of my dear friend's wonderful ideas.
Flickyhair was dispatched to Outwood on my bike by his angry parents & after drying me off a bit I was bundled into the Robin Reliant for my trip home.
As we went up Potovens Lane we passed Flickyhair riding my bike, "Look that bastard Flickyhair has nicked my bloody bike now!" I exclaimed to no response. We pulled up on Ledger Lane & I slurred a thankyou to Flickyhair's dad (Polite even in the face of gallons of cheap cider).
I walked into my house, took off my coat & stumbled into the living room. I stood in the doorway & with all the composure I could muster said "I'm not feeling very well, I'm off to bed". My dad looked at me & with a smirk said "Ok son, goodnight".
"Goodnight love" said my mum.
"Phew!" I thought to myself as I closed the living room door behind me "I thought I was in for a right bollocking!"
As the door clicked shut I heard my folks erupt into the kind of riotous laughter usually reserved for a Morecambe & Wise Christmas special.
Bastards!