Tuesday, 11 December 2007

When the cat's away

Well, now that Jenny's away in Canada for a few days, it's all systems go Chez Nick. The wild parties are in full swing, my red-hot mistress is installed in the spare bedroom and the drugs are in plentiful supply.

I'm already exhausted from the non-stop hedonism and self-indulgence. I just haven't done enough of this to build up the necessary stamina and uninhibited abandon. I haven't hung around with enough tearaway celebs lately (of course I'm invited to all their parties but I'm a bit shy so I've missed a few).

The neighbours are already complaining about the noise and disturbance, what with the stretch limos parked all the way up the road, all the glass from the broken windows and the lakes of vomit everywhere. But what the hell, it's only once every six months, why can't the tight-arsed little curtain-twitchers loosen up a little? Jesus, get a life.

The quality of the gossip is first-rate. You wouldn't believe how many secret babies, lovers, drug overdoses, tax dodges and shady business deals I've been privy to. If I got on to the papers, I'd be a rich man. But of course my lips are sealed or my name will be mud and I'll never get invited to Madonna's fiftieth.

If only the paparazzi would restrain themselves a bit, we could really let our hair down. It's a real drag having to rein ourselves in because some cash-hungry snapper is pointing his greasy lens through the front windows. I have to keep the bondage gear and torture equipment well out of sight.

I'm getting through quite a lot of money what with all the booze, the recreational substances and Mick Jagger's private gig. Have you any idea what these people charge? It's a f**king liberty. Isn't his state pension enough?

And the sheer quantity of sexy smalls Ms Bit-On-The-Side goes through is unbelievable. She demands at least half a dozen camisoles a DAY, and even had the cheek to bill me for the new implants. Does she think I'm made of money? I'm not sure how I'm going to explain the eye-popping credit card bill to my dear lady wife.

Still, it'll all have to stop in a few days, and not before time. By then I'll be in a state of total exhaustion, out cold on the shag pile. It's all too much for a sexagenarian, I tell you.

(Some people are spreading vicious rumours that all I'm really doing is cooking chili risottos, reading pretentious books and playing Annie Lennox non-stop. This couldn't be further from the truth. My lawyers have been consulted)


  1. Make sure when you sue that you have more photos like the one you posted to fully document your full-on party mode.

    Oh, and I hear there's footage of you doing the "Soulja Boy" dance that's all the rage over here in the States. That should be proof enough that you are not so tame as to merely blast Annie Lennox. ;0

  2. You see, Liz believes me, and she's a pretty wised-up sort of gal. So the doubters can just shut up and stop bad-mouthing me. Oh yes, Soulja Boy it is. In fact DeAndre's a great mate of mine, we're inseparable. Well, we were until I sneezed away all his coke.

  3. Oh come on Nick, we all know you nipped along to this website: http://www.boysstuff.co.uk/gifts-gadgets/Complete-Wild-Party-Night.asp# and got a hold of a Wild Party Night kit lol.

    It has no mention of hard drugs, rock 'n' roll and shagging though, perhaps that one cost more than £8.45 lol.

  4. How very dare you, as if! No kits needed, my parties are notorious and totally unmissable. Several of them had to be broken up by the riot police before they got totally out of hand.

  5. And to think when Major was away all I did was read, listen to albums released in 2007 in a month-by month manner and watch world war 2 documentaries. You make me look so lame.

  6. hehehe very funny :-) Of course now I want to hear what Jenny is (or isn't) doing. Hope you're not too lonely.

  7. Red - I don't know, these young people nowadays, they just don't know how to have a good time. Still, you're doing very important work there, sieving through all those albums for us. You're excused.

    Conor - What is Jenny doing? I'm the last one to know, ha ha. She's not in mobile or email contact so all I know is she's meant to be visiting her cousins in Toronto. But who knows what she's really up to? Wild parties, drugs and toy boys??? Yes, I'm a bit lonely, but it's only a few days. It was worse when she was working in Glasgow.

  8. staying up late.....not doing the dishes....ordering takeaway and eating it from the carton....oh I'm so jealous...

  9. Yes it's heaven! Dishes? We just throw them out the window. Takeaways? Do me a favour. I've taken on the world-famous Bulgarian chef Boris Plovdiv. His Black Sea Sorbet is to die for.

  10. Right Nick, here's a challenge! It's 5am and I'm up. Unless the riot police have been trying to break down your door since 3am and your pad is being scrutinised by helicopter for several trashy tv channels, you have been telling porkies.

    Unfortunatly, I don't have a tv in the flat, so will have to rely on my feminine intuition. No doubt the only hottie you are curled up with (until Jenny returns), needs regular topping up from the kettle lol.

    I could be wrong, but will need to purchase a copy of the News of the World and see you den of iniquity blazened across it before I can be convinced.

  11. You mean none of my parties have been on TV yet? My God, I must be slipping. I'll have to tell the guests to stop soft-pedalling and go seriously crazy. I mean, they haven't even stripped the roof or torched the cars yet.

    As if I would use THAT kind of hottie. What do you think this is, some back street slum with no heating? Sorry, your feminine intuition must be distorted by some very heavy static.

  12. When Mr. M was away I stayed out of the kitchen and watched too much television.
    The house had never been so quiet.

  13. Way to go, you da man Nick! That inner wildman has to be let out once in a while. Be sure to post some more pics, or should I wait for the Daily Mail update?

  14. Medbh - well, it's healthy to slob out occasionally, isn't it? My own vice is music marathons rather than TV marathons. When I'm feeling jaded, music lifts my spirits quicker than anything else.

    www - Some drunken lunatic trod on the camera and wrecked it. I haven't bought another yet. A crying shame. The shots of a certain very famous actress running naked down the street are lost for ever.