Dolly's 2nd House Party - the director's cut

I thought I'd break from the usual travelogue this week and recount a singular event, that being Dolly's Second House Party at my friends Sam & Maria's on Saturday night. It really had taken a lot of preparation by both myself and the hosts but by the time we got to 7pm and the first arrivals, the following had been achieved:

(Sam & Maria)
Clear lounge (venue) of sofas and put them in dining room (acts dressing room). Fill venue with fourteen chairs that have been successfully borrowed. Put mirror in dressing room. Construct outside lavvy from chemical toilet and shed. Vet and invite eleven friends and get their ticket money for the event. Make excellent signs. Dress room with shimmer curtains (essential). Give ticket money to organiser (Me).

(Me)
Additionally corral another thirteen people and somehow get the vast majority of their money as well. Go to Sainsburys and spend £208 on cider, lager, beer, guinness, rum, gin, vodka, red wine, white wine, rose wine, budget Bailey's derivative, cranberry juice, apple juice, orange juice, diet coke, coke zero, regular coke, caffeine-free coke, diet lemonade, various tonic waters, large bags of nuts, box of Black Magic (in addition to previous £12 spent on case of Stella (Fighting lager)). Book comedians and burlesque dancers, remember to bring ribbon and scissors. Liaise with comedian and pick up dancer from station.

(Steve)
Bring over four bar stools, plastic pint glasses, half glasses, wine glasses, ice buckets, implements and other bar paraphernalia or as I like to call it baraphernalia. Generally be a good egg and organise booze supplies in kitchen to create quite hilariously well-stocked bar.

Steve enjoying the show. The woman in the bottom right hand corner is NOT crying, honest.

The first hour's "meet & greet" was tame enough as the two groups of friends mixed easily and the drink began to flow. Both comedians were drinking with the crowd, both dancers were staying in their dressing room in what appeared to be abject terror. We called people in to the venue at around 8.30pm and advised that those that had been before sat at the front. Those that had been before did not, leaving the lovely Chloe and Vicky perched in the driver's seats. Both appeared fine. I began the show with my latest unofficial opening and put on the first act, Pam Ford, who over the next ten minutes destroyed Maria's good character to the great hilarity of her invited guests.She was followed by burly star Dolly Rose who delighted with a bunch-of-grapes balloon pop. I called a break. Chloe and Vicky were fine.

Delightful Dolly Rose balloon-popping

Now the booze was flowing. As Steve worked up a sweat in the kitchen I perused the back yard and dressing room with equal interest (All the ladies looked lovely and the one's we'd booked were in varying states of undress throughout the night - of course I was in and out of the dressing room - I'm not an idiot). Pam was escorted to the neighbours, complaining of laddered tights. I didn't pry. We reconvened for part two. Transvestite musical and artistic comedian "Mushy Bees" took the stage to no shortage of applause and laughter and (from some quarters) confusion. He was followed by the lovely Lena Mae who peeled flowers off herself but didn't sing because she had a sore throat. I didn't ask. Everybody went wild. I called a break. Chloe and Vicky were sweetness and light.

The rum had already gone but the rest of the booze appeared to be holding up all right and the chilli nuts were an absolute hit. Whoever had said they wanted cider was obviously lying. There was still a lot of cider. I reminded everyone to get two drinks for the next section, because we were playing "Roxanne". We got back in the room, , I dropped my trousers for a second helping of comedy pants, we had a quick game of "Heads & Tails" for three sticks of rock (when I had remembered the rules - it's very complicated) and then got on with Roxanne. Someone always messes up on Roxanne and this time it was the lovely Vicky, who on instruction (and accepting her fate) very calmly polished off a good half a pint of white wine in one hit. Dolly Rose came back on and did another dance which involved her losing weight, somehow. We called another break, things were running late and the only abstainer of the night, Kris, offered to drop her off at the station. They departed. When I'd asked him what he wanted to drink (several days before) he said "I don't drink, can I have a box of chocolates?", hence the Black magic. Chloe and Vicky were fine.

In the break I asked for a photo of me in the outside lavvy. I think it came out rather well...

My mother is so proud

Time for the last bit. People fell back in to the room and collapsed on each other. I did my best to get them (and myself) settled and re-introduced Fam Pord, who staggered back on for another ten minutes of screaming Aussie vitriolic brilliance. She tottered off in fresh tights and a cowboy hat. Lena Mae came back out dressed in red. The audience howled, hooted, whistled and cheered. She finished her act with an explosion of glitter and left to rapturous applause. I tried to wrap up the show. Chloe and Vicky tried to take it over. I had no choice but to let them. After performing a minor burlesque double act of their own, Vicky threw herself prostate on the glitter and began making "Snow angel" movements. Everybody drifted out of the room, some climbing over her. More drinks were had. Vicky & Chloe enlisted the help of the previously well-behaved Rhianna for a bap-flashing episode in the kitchen which I was not a party to as I was in the dressing room paying off the turns.

Vicky. Snow angel or glitter devil?

...And then we all went to the Arena Tavern. The Arena tavern really wasn't expecting that. I spent most of Sunday aching and wondering what had happened. It's now Wednesday night and things are only really coming back to me now. Pammy has been complaining of flashbacks. Lena Mae has admitted the end of the party terrified her. God only knows what she would have made of the pub. Maria has been complaining loudly (and justifiably) about glitter and nobody, nobody can wait for the next one...