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Downlow Matt was the first one to get in with a story so he gets all the glory, here goes:-
Whilst Sidcup and many crew members where still in Blighty, I was over in Bourg St-Moritz, bigginı up 2 Pac (RIP) and taking it to da streets on my new snowskate. Big shouts must go out to Big Sponge Chris Cracknell for staying real to his Crayford roots and holding it down over in Bourg. Check this: http://www.chillchalet.com/mattelmssnowskate.htm New Years Eve 2002 Playas: Downlow Matt / Elmo / elmhawk etc Slow-cup (due to his snowboard speed) previously known as Nic Sidcup, G-boy / "The Baron" / G-money / Boney G (due to recent sexual conquests), Downlow Ben / Ramraid / King Ramos the Nose / Slow-Ram, Ozzimal / Aussi Steve / the Bear, Timmy / PC (politically correct) / Oh no (in a Northern accent), The Spam, Kenty K, Pea-hawk (Yoshi Naylor), Pea-horse (Miss Naylor).
This is my story, listen up good.
The Beginning: Ok, to set the scene, Me, Kenty and Spam arrived from a French alps tour in the Kentsmanıs trusty Passat, ready to unleash some terror on Chamonix. The Sidcup apartment was small and smelly with a permanently open door, marked with a sign reading "wanted party girls no gingers or pikeys" and all of us hawks inside it. So we met up with the crew and smuggled our sh*t and product bags into the hotel. After trying to get food and booze (yeah I managed to nick a crate of Kronies), everyone went about sorting out their disguises for the night. I was wearing a rubber Muska suit with cowboy shirt & towelling headband, Boney G ended up as a chippendale-a-like calling himself "The Baron", the Spam a rock chick in red leather trousers with a mesh cap, Slowcup some sort of porn star with a syrup (rhyming slang for wig, foreign readers), the Bear as a poncho wearing afro sporting nutcase, Timmy as a dayglo 80ıs hawk (later to become a northern fighting hawk), Ramos as an 80ıs golf course chief, and Kenty as a flourescent "help" sign.
I introduced the crew to the card game known as "kings", which basically gets everyone involved well messy in a short period of time. The theme of the game turned out to be "SLOWHAND", the famous internet rapist and stalker. Due to a lack of bluntage we hit the booze pretty f**king hard. The game quickly fell into disrepair, with slowcup putting out cigarettes in his mouth and fighting slow-ram, ozzimal threading condoms and other rubbish through his nose, and G boy shouting out rubbish as usual. We finished the game by having to drink whisky out of a spoon sticking out of the Bearıs hooter, needless to say by the time we left the gaff we were well mullered. Ramos and I left a couple of minutes later than the rest of the crew, in the corridor I spied a french bird so gave her some spiel, her mate came out and looked like a feminine french gold bungle off rainbow, I was laying down lines like "allez-y, faites quelque chose de special pour le camera", which got them kissing each other, Ram ran down the corridor and lay on the floor in front of them, check out the proof! What the f**k are these two thinking? Big Props to my man RAMRAID.
What the fuck?
Too many monkeys in the lift
The Middle: The journey through the streets of Chamonix was amusing as we spotted other party people, some in disguise too, many of them also under the influence of alcohol. Our eveningıs entertainment was to be held at a boozer known as the Queen Vic, not in Walford, but the ghetto of Chamonix town. We piled in there, found a table, and from this point on things got very blurry. The pub had a large waterwheel / ships wheel type thing on the wall by the stairs, which actually rotated. Slowcup got on this and span over the top, headbutting Timmy in the nose in the process, then smashed down onto his chin on the floor. Many very c**ty stickers were stuck on people (mainly birds) and there was general abuse of passers-by and ourselves.
All of a sudden, yoshimal appeared, wearing a yellow fluffy knitted babiesı bonnet, with his trusty steed the pea-horse, who was sporting a disturbingly real horses head mask which looked amazing off the hızar. The highlight of the evening for most of the sidcupdownlowmassive was an event which I will call "the gay diver". Apparently in the same boozer earlier in the week, the sidcup crew had witnessed a particular matey demonstrating very gay improvised dance techniques and trying to abuse sidcup members. On New years eve, batty man appeared next to Boney G at the top of the stairs, dancing at the crowd below. G was giving it the "go on mate, JUMP!" to which my man was like, "You f**king jump!" The Baron then proceeded to stand up and stage dive into the sidcup throng beneath him, who caught him nice and made him look real good. My man then gets up there, everyoneıs going "DO IT YOU POOF", the next thing you know he has swan dived off the balcony. Everyone stepped back and the whole place shook as the c**t smashed chin first into the s***y dance floor. For a moment time stood still as he froze like a dead chicken. The silence was broken by us lot pissing oursleves laughing, which seemed to annoy batty-my-man even more "I suppose you think thatıs f**king funny!?" to which Boney G replied "yeah I do actually". Batty boy was very unhappy and decided to pick on Timmy, this set the ball rolling and a ridiculous drunken stand off occurred with all Sidcup crew threatening to kill everyone else, fortunately peace, goodwill and common sense prevailed in the true spirit of Christmas, and the batty man walked away covered in pony (pony and trap = crap) from the dance floor and a headache but no black eyes. We got back on with enjoying ourselves, although it has to be said by this stage most people were so pissed they were truly off the hizzawk. Well at this point (1 or 2am) I still don't know what came over me but I felt very strange and then, in a Borat accent, I asked the Spam (who was looking great in her sidcup rock style) if she would marry me. After repeated responses of "you're drunk, you're drunk, you don't know what you're saying" etc I went down on one knee, Kenty started booting me up the arse going "get up, get up" thinking I was out for the count. Anyway this display of affection was good enough for Sam, who said "yes I will" and everyone was happy. Don't try this one at home kids, it could get you in all sorts of trouble. Celebrations were then in order and I ran round the pub spouting rubbish in strange accents. I can vaguely remember leaving the old Queen Vic, but imagine my surprise when I was not in Albert Square but Chamonix, and it was f**king freezing - particularly as I was wearing a thin rubber tracksuit and cowboy shirt which were drenched in sweat, stank of fags, and were covered in sidcup stickers. Me, Kenty, Spam & Ram headed to find food, and found the "panini" shop, which made like mountain style toasted sandwiches. They were well tasty, but unfortunately the combined activities of walking on ice and trying to eat food proved too much and I slipped up straight onto my arse in front of a van of gendarmes (french police) - the worst thing was the burger popped out of my punini and landed on the floor - gutted. In fact, everyone fell over except spam I think, Ramos nearly splintering his elbow into smithereens, and Kenty, well when he fell over he just laid on his back and spread out his flourescent "HELP" suit. Confused Euro passers by understood this simple message and as we hid, they crowded round him and helped him back to his feet like a limping hawky yorkshire whippet.
The End: On New Years Day, things looked pretty bad in the Sidcup arena, there were no party girls anywhere to be seen. I woke up early, before everyone else, feeling like Iıd had a slow beating with a warm hawk, partly because I was lying next to Boney G, who had a re-gurgitated sandwich as a pillow, and partly cos there was so much loud snoring going on the room was shaking like the frog chorus. I got up and realised that I had got engaged the night before. WHAT THE ? I got into the bath and tried to cleanse myself of the dirt and muck of the previous nightsı activities, but it was no good. I was excited as I had got some wicked new snowboard product of my main man, Jan from Rossignol (respect is due), so started dressing up in my new clothes, checking out their technical features, and sweating. Slowly the Sidcup massive arose, croaking and guffing like an old peopleıs home, telling tall stories and lies, and I tried to convince people to come snowboarding. G boy rose and then fell back into his manky sandwich like a northern wussy. I got a few troops together and we hit the neige, it was a bit weird, and politically correct Timmy got stuck in a chairlift which made me laugh. Ha ha! Ramos saw a man in ski boots fall headfirst down 15 metal stairs, I heard it and it made a f**king right racket. I also saw a man smoking a cigar so big it looked like a giant floating turd sticking out his gob. The next day was my last day of the holiday and we all went riding together. It was very nice!
Thanks for reading, see you next year! Love (L-R) "oh no" Timmy, me the Downlow Matt (top), the Spam, Boney G, Kenty, The Ozzimal Bear, Slowcup, the Downlow Ram.
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