Thusrday night. The Plough. Stufro's 18th. Well, well well...

I was the first to arrive at the party that evening, turning up promply at eight 'o clock. Before anyone else had arrived. Even Stufro. This cuased much confusion on my part, and solicted a little journey into the bar and back, by which time Stufro had spontaneously materialized in the lounge. Stange.

To my suprise, Stufro's much self-advertised promises of a grand mix-off featureing his and Tait's "MAD SKILLZ" on the turntables the likes of which Aberdeenshire has never seen was, well, never seen. No hard-house. No squeaky toy. No "danger! danger!". Instead there was a seemingly inept DJ on the stage who insisted in churning out the most vile aural filth he could muster, basically by going through his eerily complete back cataloge of the crappiest teeny-bopping chart nonsense ever comitted to silicone. The night did not bode well...

We began by showing stufro with the usual humiliating gift parade, notably including several inflatable objects. Apparently Stufro has a thing for well inflated items. I will pass on commentary as I'm much too scared by the implications of this. Around the time Tait turned up the music started to imporve, especially after Ewan Tait and D started cajoleing the poor old DJ nonce with thier CD-Rs. Things got into a good swing after "song 2" started a mass mosh-a-thon, after which poing a very professional pre-mix-up started to do the rounds, prompting me to to my usual hyperrapiddiscoraveflailing routine before the beach balls were introduced. "I believe" from Run Lola Run was played, much to everyone's enjoyment, but I soon become the victim of a massive stitch that impeded by dacning ability somewhat for the rest of the night. The band played on however, providing much merriemt as we all did the Macarena with ironic glee (except, perhaps, for Stufro's mum, who may well have mistaken it for a genuine like of the track, and joined in), as well as my own stuffing JaffaCakes in my gob in time to "all my life" untill the orangy sponge sucked all the moisture from my mouth and left me unable to chew, forcing me to just swallow dry JaffaCake. Brilliant. James's "sit down" also provided oppertunity for a hugely creative and highly original set of dance moves. Betcha can't geuss how?

Some interesting shenanigans were to be had in the toilets, such as the "girls toilet party", ot the round of "vocational guidance councillor" that srtarted up with the various people doing the toilet in the Men's at the time. Very amusing. One thing of not is Pippa's angel like status during what may otherwise have proved to be a near-fatal burnout period. Her quick thinking to provide us with ice gave a nigh-on spiritual-sexual euphoria to all of whom the ice was applied to. She saved us all...

By the late evening the music stepped up the pace yet again, becoming quite euphoric as the arm-linked jumping began. The last track I had before I had to go was "firestarter". I hate "firestarter". But I didn't care. We just all went mental. That is the power of the dance.

I must party again...