Caught by the neighbours
Many moons ago when my sister and I still lived at home, it so happened that it was my sister's 18th birthday and my dad's 50th on the same weekend. Their birthday's are 3 days apart. Funny that.

M&D fucked-off for a filthy weekend somewhere. Don't know where, didn't ask. Me and my sister set about plans for her 18th birthday party, despite strict instructions by M&D not to have a party. Come on, WTF did they expect?

Party was planned for the Saturday night. We lived in a mid-terraced house and neighbours were duly warned. Saturday evening arrived and only a handful of people turned-up. Admittedly we hadn't had much notice (parents didn't tell us they were going away until Friday) and hadn't really invited anyone. We lived in quite a small village and knew most people anyway, so we had the stroke of genius to pop down to the village shop, to buy some booze I think, and put a sign up in the window, something like, "Party at no. 2 blah blah Street. All welcome" or a similarly ill-conceived choice of words.

Thinking 30 or 40 people would be a good turn out, 100 or so turned up. Oh fuck. There were bodies everywhere. Parents spirits cabinet was raided, furniture was broken, fights broke out and the police were called. It was fucking awesome.

Next morning, it was like a fucking war zone. I kicked the stragglers out of the house, surveyed the damage and set about fixing stuff. Having little to fuck-all DIY knowledge, it was as much a surprise to me as everyone else that the telephone table got reattached to the wall and the walls got painted. By close of play, we felt confident that we'd got away with it.

And if it wasn't for those pesky neighbours - the nosy cunts - we would have. Before they'd even got out of the car, the neighbours had asked M&D if we were redecorating as they'd seen me with a paint brush and paint. You ain't seen nothing til you've seen a short, Glaswegian woman rage like a banshee on heat. Our feet never touched the ground.

My sister was going through something of a turbulent time with M&D at the time, so she, in between sobs, asked me to take the wrap. Like the stupid, naive twat that I am, I did. Grounded for months, had to repay the cost of all the booze that was stolen, and had my Nana to babysit me thereafter (I was 17) - I shit you not.

Not long after, my sister moved out and I got thrown out. Funny that.
(Tighthead, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 13:24, 6 replies)

Why is it funny that their birthdays are three days apart?
( IHaveABadFeelingAboutThis most likely working from home on, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 14:27, closed)

Well...
It isn't. It was to emphasise the point that their birthdays are 3 days apart, she having her 18th birthday and he having his 50th over the same weekend i.e. 3 days apart. Anything else?
(Tighthead, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 14:55, closed)

You should have called the French polishers
It's just possible that they could have saved your life.
( Scrumper, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 14:45, closed)

I was
thinking exactly the same thing. Although cigarette ash is supposedly as effective and mildly cheaper.
(feedingtimeatthezoo day 1 of his bikini diet started, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 14:57, closed)

If French Polishers...
...could have also replaced the booze, mopped up the vomit, fixed furniture back to walls, painted and plastered, I would have considered calling them. Unfortunately the Yellow Pages got binned as well, and this was before t'interweb access!
(Tighthead, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 15:03, closed)

any parent who expects their child not to celebrate their 18th
with an almighty piss-up is being unreasonable.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 2 Oct 2009, 21:54, closed)