Party Photos!
2006-09-19, 9:39 p.m.
This is my party and how I did it�..First, cut the grass (make sure its stripey!)
Collect loads of garden furniture from all your friends and get a six year old to wash it.
Make a rainbow! 
Go out to dinner, scoff yourself silly on Chinese food and be unreasonably proud of your beautiful daughters.
Collect sister (BiL arriving later) and Geordie Guitar Dude from respective train stations, install them in house and fill them with alcohol.
Next morning, put them to work. (Sis wonders how to get flange A47 into socket B73 using connecting bracket C56)
Blow up millions of balloons and arrange them around the garden furniture - if you look carefully, you can see BiL engaged in "farting about with fairy lights".
Do the flowers
Cook a pig
Turn your childrens beautiful summerhouse into a bar! 
(and then wait til it gets dark to get a better picture of it!) 
Set up a load of music stuff in the sitting room - the vacuum cleaner's not part of it, I think its just for decoration
Commence Partying!
At this point there's a bit of a hiatus in the photos as some of the people attending are real people and not just virtual cyber personalities. Im not comfortable with putting people's photos up if I dont have their permission so some will have to wait until I get the OK. In the meantime tho, here's smashthegas and annanotbob whom I assume wont mind too much. It was lovely to see them both again, especially as they'd come a pretty long way and Smash, at least, had had the most horrific train journey this side of the TransSiberiaExpress
Later, GeordieGuitar Dude, BrummieDrummer and Simba the Keyboard King got down and got funky.
In response to the question posed, they are respectively: single, married-but-single-that-night and married. Musicians are always just a little bit single, no matter how happily married they are!
I'll skip over all the bits where I danced on the lawn with Slave and where I leapt from the patio into BFs waiting arms and where I went upstairs to be sick after necking half a pint of whisky (It was a BET! I HAD to!) but rallied to carry on drinking later.
In later entries (and once I have full permission of the photographees), I'll try to fill in some of the detail. Until then, I leave you with Breakfast Next Morning - I use the word "morning" in its looset possible incarnation and the charming mental picture of Smash, in my kitchen, scrubbing the scrambled egg pan (Awwww, blesss!)
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