Fatty, Fatty Reggae

My Dear Fellows & Dear Princess,

Today we were in Nelson for G-Man's 50th birthday party. Caro booked us into this very lovely hotel, just 5 minutes walk from their house. Look at that! A towel swan! Isn't that cute?!

I didn't want to wash the entire time I was there. Fortunately, Caro is a great more practical than I am and unfurled Sigmund the Signet with a flourish. So we were both able to get ready for the party and headed round there at about 7.

Gareth's party felt like two parties, actually. There was the one inside, wherein really cool, esoteric, indy music was being played, and then there was the one outside where I was in charge.

Dave, another Kiwi friend from Edinburgh backpacker days, had set up a brazier on the deck out the back. It was sorely needed. Wellington has been very cold lately, and Nelson even more so. The brazier was very effective and we all gathered around it. Then someone complained about the lack of music so a bluetooth speaker was provided and I hooked up to it from my phone.

There was talk of ska music, so I put on The Selector, which went down very well. This was followed by requests for The Clash and Madness and then I put on my most favourite song in the world ever. 

Caro knows this is the song I want to be played at my funeral. I have made this very clear. It is because I cannot see how anyone could be upset when they are singing "fatty fatty reggae reggae reggae".

It seemed to go down well, and as the evening progressed and the drink flowed, we ended up singing and dancing along to "Tainted Love" and "Blister In The Sun".

Funnily enough, I hardly saw the G-Man himself. He was too busy socialising all night. I eventually had a conversation with him at about 2am. But it was one of those, "Aw mate, you are sooooo awesome," chats that I seriously doubt he will remember tomorrow morning.

As for me, I met some very nice people and danced until the early hours. Caro and me got back to our hotel at 3.30am. That's what the fatty beat will do to you.

S.