The Boys

This is like a Part II to the 'Besties' post.

I've always had two female besties and a group of male friends with whom I drink and tend to be in a relationship with one of them. First off, the 'Beccles Crew' which consisted of cousin Luke, boyfriend Shane and a variety of other people. Then the 'Bungay Crew' who I, until two months ago, would still call 'Ben's friends' because they are people who Ben went to school with / know through Bungay so I met through him. However, most of them I met when I was 15, so eight years later, I can call them my own friends. There were also smaller pockets of the '1 2 Toft Monks Crew' and the 'Eccles Gang', but we don't talk about them much. So it wasn't until I got to university and met the coolest kids on this planet and we all formed a power-group of awesomeness, that I could actually call my own. They are my boys. They are not people I know through someone else, and they are not the friends of a boyfriend who didn't know me before the relationship. They are my boys. And I love each and every one of them, for their own special reasons. And, to boost their fragile egos, and also because Nathan complained that he hadn't made it onto the 'besties' blog, I shall further my warm fuzzy feelings...

Big Gay Al-valanche
Group leader, if you will, as his dominant position in the class room often lead to him being the 'responsible one' and taking charge. Also because he's older, bigger, wiser... gayer? He had to carry me home once. I was too drunk to walk straight. His aversion to alcohol does tend to leave him in charge of the horrendously drunk people. Odd that. His 'loose' tent flaps. His love of history, particularly the Crusades. His shirts with massive holes in. His big black coat with paint dribble on it. His brother, Marsh, Dave 'Not That One', D&D, pints of coke, singing Poison, more pints of coke, and being Scottish. So much being Scottish.

Matt 'The Rage' Blanchette
He was thrown into the lion's den when Mike put him in a group with me, Sophie, Rhianmor and 'I bleed on cue' Stuart. But he held his own in The Coven, he stripped the glory from iKandi when he beat them (despite also being one of them?) at a karaoke competition, and he was the heart and soul of every horror class with Marc. It never once weirded me out how excited he'd get about pending blood, gore, titties and massacre. Back when he had longer hair, he'd walk into the room with metal/rock music loud enough that people nearby could distinguish which song it was, he'd have his head down, bouncing along holding some sort of chocolate or sugary snack and at least one bottle of Fanta. He'd get out his 'notepad' and doodle all lesson, chiming in only in the small classes where he could have a good rant about something that ground his gears. He'd always be twitching, be it a finger, a leg, a foot. Something would have to be moving. Sugar would have to escape somehow.

Will 'Fale' Sale
This guy's so cool he's got his own cult. He's so unexpectedly funny, calling Adam a twat, dancing to Macbeth and eating preposterous amounts of food. His knowledge of James Bond films, all things sci-fi, of Joss Whedon shows and of actual literature always made him far cooler than he knew he was. Kid's got swagger. Also a twin brother called James. The group of us with brothers called James - me, Will, Sophie, Matt. Popular name. Playing 'I Never' was always weird with him around though - he really knew how to catch out me and Maria. His four-pack of beer for every house party. His incredible birthday parties each year. His anorexic sister who ladened him with cake. His pasta and pesto. His mountain of mash and asda-price sausages. And of course, his unstoppable toast-eating.

Anthony 'Kamikaze' Macina
The thing I love most about Macina is the ability to see which face he has on. Sometimes he's the guy who is so drunk he will try convince everyone that police pulled them over, on the bus, at the bus stop, and somewhere else between the off-licence and the rapists. That same guy who tries kicking wing mirrors, who sings the whole way home and loves meeting french girls just to chat them up in a language we can't understand. But then there's the other guy, who is sober and thoughtful, a good friend and a great person, who does awesome things like learning someone's favourite songs to sing for them at their 21st birthday party. At both of the their 21st birthday parties.

Nathan 'The Liability' Edmonds
Ah Nate, where to start. If our group were the characters in a film, he'd be the central protagonist. The things he likes, he loves. His interests ooze out of him, giving his character more depth than most of us can dream of. Barefoot running, Jack Daniels and coke, Superstition, Sam Rockwell, Arrested Development, 30 Rock, The Wire, avocados, banana pancakes, giving up porn, leaving iron man during Rockwell's dance, telling me to fuck off on video (still makes me laugh), pulling faces, telling bad jokes, watching MMA, doing jujitsu, eating no carbs and trying to become Sam Rockwell.

Martin 'The Meerkat' Appleby
Would it be unfair to say he's my favourite of the group? I mean, its pretty obvious that he is. Him and his green hat, and his tea, and his wrestling, and his fantasy football, and his super skinny jeans, and his band t-shirts, and his love of Henry Rollins, and Mark Ruffalo, and Kirsten Dunst, and Pink, and Zooey, and Michelle, and Dawson's Creek. He is Pacey. And the 'five guys and a vegetarian' joke. And the Air-Plane (Air-Pane? WindowPlain?) game. And Blue Waffle. And playing Game Boy with Matt. And eating all my cake (not an innuendo). And making my birthday cake with Maria. And being the only boy I know who owns a hair dryer. And his InflataBall dance. And Drunk Martin. That month he gave up alcohol, we all got to know Sober Martin a whole lot better. Then The Return Of Drunk Martin happened. And he did silly things, like throwing rocks at Maria's window, and trying to give Paul a piggy back, and pushing Paul in the toilets, and being a bit rude to Paul. And jumping on Dan's back all the time, and screaming 'SAY WHAT?', and singing 'I got five on it', and kicking a telephone box, and being too drunk to get undressed, and smoking straights, and convincing strangers that he's my boyfriend, and then actually becoming that. And Friends, and New Girl, and Him and Her, and Dawson's Creek again. And giving him bourbons for Christmas. And my homemade macaroni cheese.

David Coates / Number One
My first thought was 'he ain't heavy, he's my brother'. He ain't my brother. He's the first one to make the dirty joke, he's the first one in the door of Forbidden Planet, and the last one out of the cinema (when he's not working obviously). He's the one who drinks silly girly drinks with me, he's the laugh you hear from down the corridor, he's the fan boy that outshines even my gayness, and he's the one who never has money because he spends it all on Comic-Con, merchandise, gigs, movie events and his general fanboy-type things. He's the one who didn't finish uni; he wrote 57 pages of good stuff but couldn't finish it. He's the opposite of Nathan. He's potentially the only member of the KOC to have paid for more than one round? (a round of cokes, that is). He does the daftest things sometimes, but he's loveable despite. Kinda like Duckie in Pretty in Pink. I don't know who would be Andie in that scenario...


We're getting older, doing things and seeing stuff and wanting to feel more grown up and important. But at the end of the day, we all know that where we all really still wanna be is in my living room, middle of the night, sofas outside, benches down, The Law in position, getting sweaty over a balloon.

I love you, Max. You're so money.

The Disgrace Jar

In our flat we have a disgrace jar. Each time we 'disgrace', we have to pay a pound. The current money inside is from the following:

Jack, on the first night in the flat, cut his penis open on his girlfriend's frayed coil and dripped blood all through the flat. It went everywhere.

First drunk night in the flat, Milli and I got through lots of wine. And then played Arrogance. And then I vommited all the stir-fry and noodles into the bathtub. And blocked the bath. And flooded the bathroom.

Luke slept with Amy. Three times. And with Charlotte, once.

I slept with Dukie, and Henry. (On separate nights)

So there should be eight pounds in there now.

Today, my mother and father disgusted me. They swore SO MUCH about nothing. It was dust that they swore about. Then mother swore about father swearing about dust. It was ridiculous. And following my horrific realisation that I'm too much like my father, I've decided to act upon this: I'm stopping swearing, and every 'slip up' costs me 50p into the disgrace jar.

Jack's happy, because he plans on buying something 'nice' when its time to empty it. It won't be full until there is about £300 in there, I reckon, so I don't know what would make us open it early. Maybe when Jack moves out...

Either way, the Disgrace Jar is the metaphor for forgiveness in this flat. Pay the premium, and all will be forgotten... supposedly.