My Misspent Youth

Last night I was chatting about general debauchery and partying and was asked to share my craziest parties/nights out. It must have got me thinking because my dreams later were a complete mish mash of insane experiences. Many of them are really not to be shared on a public forum, for issues of legality and morality, but I’ve been laughing to myself all the way to work today so here are some of the edited memories. Just a few…..I haven't even touched on Sheffield....Ibiza.....

If you don’t know me personally then apologies, these won’t make a huge amount of sense. The main culprits who can validate or dispute them: Sian, Emma, Maggie, Christopher, Lee….am I missing anyone? Oh, Jon, Raph, Sophie…my memory isn’t what it was…..thank god this was before the days of Facebook photo albums…… Emma - I'm sorry but I just love this photo.....

DJ Cash Money: The Elbow Rooms/Sankeys
To this day, this can still make me laugh. Sian, Jon, I think we escaped arrest by the skin of our teeth. Dancing in the dj booth, being caught on video camera misbehaving, shooting pool with Cash later, no sleep at Malmaison, pulling over on the hard shoulder of the M62 because I just couldn’t see the road, and Sian driving us home. Oh, and Maggie: Cash at Sankeys….Malmaison was involved again, and didn’t you need a chiropractor afterwards?!

Miami Winter Music Conference
TOO MUCH bad behaviour. Tribal Gathering club night, partying in a Laundromat (no, really, and I have the photos of me putting washing in a machine to prove it), the dumpster incident, pool parties with Playboy bunnies, dancing in a bikini all day and all night, feathers and face paint, having a heart attack in the taxi on the last day: 7 o’clock?????? But our flight’s at 8!!!!! Kelly: It’s 7 PM, not am. Oh. And to top it all off: war broke out whilst we were there. Nothing like the world imploding to make you focus on having a good time.

Danny Tenaglia at Sankeys
Arriving at the club at 4 pm on a Sunday afternoon. The journey there is quiet, the city is enjoying a day of rest. The doors open to reveal 300 people ON IT. All resolutions of ‘taking it easy’ and ‘behaving ourselves’ went out of the window in about 3 minutes, and we partied for 12 hours. Just wrong on the Lord’s day! But oh so right.

Tribal Weekender
Where the term Britney on Crack was coined. Details are sketchy but it was a whole weekend, in Butlins. How did we do it??

Creamfields
My Vietnam of clubbing, which sums it up really. Rubber rings, Geri Halliwell, scallies after Rich’s Rolex, the minibus of shame home. Never again!!!

Illegal Warehouse Rave in Salford
Nothing like starting off the night getting grilled by police about where you’re heading:

Me: “Officer, I’m just visiting a friend in her new apartment.”
Officer: “Where?”
Me: “Erm….”

Ten minutes later as I’m climbing up a fire escape into the warehouse (!) I see the same policeman….I had the decency to look sheepish. Full details of that night are best left unsaid: suffice to say that it’s always a good idea to leave when the police arrive with dogs at 7 am. And I needed a week off work afterwards to recover.

Corfu
What year was this????? The holiday with the legendary red and yellow cards, Prince Harry getting ejected from our club, Maggie in the dj booth, getting very friendly with the local constabulary……how did we get away with it?

Marbella, every year, for how many years?
Four poster beds on the beach, too many drinks, dinner, and frying pans. Ladies, I miss our breaks!

Dubai thinks it knows how to party. On a scale of 1-10, compared with Manchester, it’s hitting about a 4. On reflection, us Manchester kids are obviously (in the words of Tim Westwood) off the hook. I’d say a comfortable 12. Dubai, you have a lot to learn…..