How to Retrieve a Horrendous Night

A Tartlets Tale

We've had more than our fair share of nights that have run significantly below par due to bad company and bad vibes. Our formula is tried and tested (repeatedly); our mantra of 'the PIG' has consistently saved the day.

So it was Halloween, the one night of the year we can dress like total sluts and not be judged, but not the tartlets! First on our agenda was a house party: full of the worst kind of skanky, hard faced, purebred bitches. They obviously missed the memo that parties are where you have fun. Instead, these scantily clad ladies of the night appeared to have stuck their devil forks up their arses upon arrival.

A conversation verbatim between three of these ladies:

'I've just gotta go for a wee.' [Leaves other 2 alone]
'OMG Felicity is doing my head in.'
'Er, yeah! Like me too.'
'She's being like, talking about how like, Harry is like her best friend when everyone knows that he's like my best friend so how can he be your best friend when he’s like my best friend? [Doesn’t pause to breathe] Like do you know what I mean? Like, yeah.'
'Yeah and like, I don't wanna be a bitch but she's defo put on a bit of weight. And she's like, borrowing my corset, and I'm not being mean but she's totally like, stretching it?'
'God yeah, I hope it wasn't expensive.'
[Other girl returns]
'Heya!'
Both reply 'Hey Slag.' [giggles]
'You look way better in my corset than I do.'
'No way'
[Smug glances exchanged]

Clearly, this is not the sort of company the tartlets like to keep, the savages! But beggars can't be choosers, and Edina hadn't put on her spangly pants for nothing. Plus the boys were fairly easy on the eye...

Soldiering on we return to our normal company where a boy decides to put a dampener on the night by calling a stop to strings-free-sexy-time on poor Edina. 'The PIG' is brought out at this moment, and by now we ought to explain this does not imply pulling a random minger to provoke jealousy! Instead it translates as “Pretending It’s Good.” No one needs to know what a shit night you're really having, when your self esteem is plummeting from rejection and you secretly want to say 'am I so unadorable? What's so wrong with me? I'm way hotter than you!' But if you pretend for long enough, you eventually realise it stops being an act. Ideally performed with a sidekick who will lift your limp arms of defeat and make you shimmy like a hot bitch.

After performing obligatory PIG, we realise we're way cooler than everyone else there and decide to head for a trendier venue.

OK, we know its the Regal, but awaiting us are some people who we actually like. Receiving free entry at the door, and a warning that Patsy's man was already inebriated, we elbowed our way through over-bronzered suspendered girls and under or over deoderanted boys to the bar where we were greeted with the kind of love and appreciation we have grown to expect from attending a night out.

Patsy's man stumbles over with someone else's Halloween makeup smeared on his nose, causing a semi-friction whilst she tried to ascertain who the Halloween culprit was.

'If Gerbil face has been shimmying up to him again I will be mighty mad Edina.'
'Don't worry, if she has, I'll smack her in her food pouch cheek.'

With this small print of the night agreed and sorted, we slinked to the dance floor, and carried on the PIG by pulling some illegal over sized dance moves. Questions like 'how much grinding is too much grinding' and 'if you incorporate shoving a girl into a dance move, is it still rude?' - all would have to be answered in the morning.

02:00 hours; a toilet break is required. Who knew taking a slash could so deeply offend someone?

[In cubicle hear an aggressive bang on the door]
'Hang on, just a minute'
Drunk messy fresher, unaware of general social etiquette slurs loudly 'Is anyone in there?'
'Um, yeah. Hang on!'
This was greeted by a further bang on the door.
[At this point one stood up and rearranged pants. Door bursts open, swiftly retaliated to by a slam shut]
Messy fresher: 'Sorry, was just checking someone was in there, can you hurry up?'
'This will not make it any faster will it?!!!'
This was responded to with a full-blown hurling of abuse from messy fresher.

Rather than be drawn into the petty squabbles of young girls we remove ourselves to the dance floor and spend the rest of the evening waving and openly laughing in her face: Fail-proof tactic to annoy and humiliate, whilst a continuation of 'the PIG'.

So we stagger home once more to a deep drunken slumber, only interrupted by occasional vomiting from our house mate (we would never do this- apart from that one time with the Jack Daniels...)

So, recap: Follow 'the PIG' survival method, and you’ll eventually trick yourself into believing it.

Until next time darlings

Edie and Patsy
loves loves
xx