Not in the name of art..
But my friend John has some friends in the higher echilons of society around where I live, as a result we were invited to the 21st Birthday party of some aristo in West Sussex (for anybody who knows the area, it's the people who own Borde Hill). It was fancy dress, so we went as Slipknot, using overalls my other friend Dan had nicked from work and 99p Haloween masks. For an idea of how much effort we put into our costumes, here is John and Dan with some of the lovely ladies at the party -



We took advantage of the free bar, to the extent where we took 5 litre bottles of Smirnoff and hid them under our car so we could get them later. This is me sneaking about behind the free bar getting the bottles -



Everything started going a bit pear shaped when we decided to go for a wander, I pissed in the swimming pool, John and Dan found the car park and started letting tyres down. I was stood off to the side of the car park gathering my thoughts when I heard somebody yell "What the fuck are you doing?!" and saw John and Dan sprinting into the bushes, so I dove into the nearest foliage, twisting my ankle in the process. I hid there for a bit, then walked back to the party, but couldn't find John or Dan anywhere. I ended up chatting to the birthday girl's father for about 45 minutes about how wonderful his patio heaters were, then got a call from Dan saying "We're in big trouble Norris, abort, abort, meet us back at the flat!" so I walked down the drive calmly and phoned for a taxi back the their flat.

As I was waiting for the taxi 3 BMWs screeched to a halt next to me and three rather large rugby players jumped out, and one of them grabbed me by the collar, and started yelling at me to tell him where John and Dan were, luckily I was drunk enough not to be shit scared, so I chuckled a bit and said I hadn't seen them for about 2 hours, and he was just about to hit me when his mate pulled him off and said they should go and keep looking.

By this time it was about 4am so I just got the taxi home and slept. When I finally caught up with John and Dan the next day, it turned out they had been chased through woods and over fields by angry posh people, Dan also twisting his ankle in the process (but a lot worse than mine, it was about the size of a basketball), but luckily hadn't been caught.

A few days later we snuck back into the car park to retrieve our car, and, lo and behold, the bottles of vodka were still there!

I have a load more pictures somewhere, I'll see if I can track them down and post them.
(Jon Norris, Fri 30 Sep 2005, 22:53, Reply)