My Friends

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Debs is my eldest sister, something she never gets tired of me mentioning. She's recently been sideways promoted -same money, more work, no clue what she's doing- in her job, and is now responsible for all the personell of a certain North London bus company. Resignations have hit an all time low. They're all too terrified to quit...

Debs has, of late, been trraining me for all the interviews I'll be going to now my details are out in the real world. Top tip for anyone contemplating going to an interview. Never say 'problem'. It has negative associations...

The other one. The younger of my older siblings. After 22 years, that's the best description I can come up with for her. I should have been the middle child, although I probably wouldn't have married the guy she did. No offence, Stuart. You're a lovely bloke, but...

Anyway, Fiona is a qualified nurse, doing her Masters -or has done her Masters. I don't pay attention- and is universally beloved by all her patients. That all her patients are geriatrics and possibly not entirely compus mentis is, I've no doubt, entirely coincidental...

My cousin Angela. Older, wiser, female. We have a cordial hate-hate relationship. It seems to work out okay.

Michael's a truly lanky so and so. He sings, too. Surprisingly well, if deeply. His version of Elton John's 'Your Song' is one destined to live long in the memory, as was the crowd response to it. Perhaps, just perhaps, he'd be better off sticking to Barry White and the 'Mmmm' song. Oh, and Ernie, of course...

Michael's about to go on back to Durham to do his doctorate in Chemistry, after already picking up his Masters. What's a man to do? He's beloved up there. Head of his college boat club -or team, possibly- and, having spent the last year training the 1st year girls crew, is well known among the ladies of Durham.

Amidst all this, his Goldeneye abilities haven't suffered. He's still capable of nailing Michal or myself with a quick blast from an RC-P90 at five hundred yards. Bring on the proxy mines, I say...

Clive is a few short weeks away from his Masters in financial Maths. No doubt he'll get it, even after spending all summer working his rear end off behind the record counter at Walthamstow Woolworths. Of course, as Clive now hates Maths, it's hard to see exactly what he'll do with his qualifications.

A word of warning to anyone thinking of employing Clive. He's the sort of person who'll show up to a staff party with two bottles of sherry, safe in the knowledge he's the only person who'll drink the stuff. He'll then get quietly drink in the corner becase, of course, Clive is far too shy to ever do anything riotous and raucous.

I've known Michal well for six years now, and he's been a huge influence on my life. I've rarely, if ever clicked with anyone as well as him. (That it took us five years of school to click instantly is neither here nor there.) Despite his inability to be anywhere near a phone when I ring it (in another country, occasionally), I do not hesitate to call him my best friend. Even when I'm sober. Michal really does mean a great deal to me. Who else, after all, shares my sense of humour, or general inadequacy when it comes to the opposite sex? (If you haven't heard the story of how Cat and himself got together, it is the funniest thing ever.) Basically, Michal, as far as I am concerned, is The Man, and I can't say too many good things about him.

With a Cambridge computing degree under his belt, Michal has found himself a job working on an online ticketing website. That the company apparently has a slightly less wholseome sideline was rather more surprising to Michal than it was to the rest of us. We just knew..

A degree from Cambridge maybe, but Michal still had trouble lighting matches

Terence is one of those lovely blokes who you just want to strangle. A really nice guy, but one who models himself, at times, as a latter day prophet. I can only hope, perhaps, that he'll come to realise I don't need spiritual guidance. Not, at least, from someone who's back story I know as well as I do Terence's...

Terence and Jude were delighted when they found that each Christmas dinner came with a free mannequin

But, in spite of his occasional bouts of religious mania, Terence is a lovely bloke. I owe a lot to him, and he owes me my cop of About a Boy, so for the time being, we're even. He has, I must admit, always been there for me, and I suppose I'll likely alwasy be there for him, not that he needs anyone.

Terence is currently dating Claire, who he's about to abandon for a year to go work at Sion, as his sister did a coupla years back. It's taken them a full year to recover from Toolan junior. Now they get the real thing...

It's more than five years now since Matt walked through the doors of Enfield's B&Q behind me. Those five years have been the most eventful of my life, and much of that can be attributed to Matt. He was always there for me when I needed someone to talk to, more even that Michal, Terence or anyone. That one of the finest people I've ever known should die at such a young age is horrible. That he crammed so much into so little time was impressive. That no-one ever has anything but good things to say about him is a tribute to his all around wonderfulness.

Matt was responible, in one way or another, for much of what occured in my life between 1998 and 2001. Without him, so many of the people on this page wouldn't be here. For that, I'm forever in his debt. Whatever I manage to achieve in life, I know I'll have Matt to thank for helping me so much in the short time we were friends.

"I've got no gun, I live for ever..." And so began the most enduring of all catch phrases. Stewart is the all time king of the interactive tag line. 'Jam', 'Your mum and chips', 'Hello vicar', the list goes on... Another ex B&Q boy, we worked together for two years before he jumped ship when I was in another country. Sneaky. My friendship with Stewart was largely founded on two things: Football (C'mon you Spurs!!) and Championship Manager (C'mon you Spurs!!). No-one else plays Champ. It's for me and Stewart alone. Famous for being more virile than an Iranian Jerd on viagra. Also famous for being incapable of finishing a sentence without adding a redundant expletive. Holds the unofficial world record for most swear words in a monologue. Stewy is about to move into a flat with four women. Do I need to say anything else?

Stewart's first round of training for the World's Strongest Man contest involved bending imaginary steel bars

The boss. Jay pays me money, bitches about my mixing skills, and whines about how slowly I set up the equipment. Nontheless, we still make the finest DJs in all of North London. Possibly the whole city. I'm not biased.

While Matt was paying Jon his protection money, he was startled by the appearance of Jay's disembodied head

In the last year, our skills were further honed by working together on the House of Fun, our show on uni radio. That Jason had to ring me one day to check if I was actually doing the show, because it was *so* good, is a testament to how far I've comeunder his guidance.

Jay's now employed by some computing firm, Vermason's, with the brief to improve stuff. He seems happy enough, and certainly enjoys the money. It also gives him the chance to play football and squash on a regular basis, so fair do's.

Owns his own house, his own car, and has broadband installed. It's so easy to mmark Jon as he successful one in our group. But he's not just successful, he's kind, sharing, and let's me drink his cans of Coke at an alarming rate. For that, an honorary knighthood would surely be in order, were I in a position to give them out.

Jonathan is currently enoying the quiet life, or would be if Diana wasn't living with him. Instead, his house is regularly home to hordes of gorgeous, giggly women, who think he's sweet, and cute, and so on. Me, I'd hate all that stuff. Jonathan actually seems to like it.

Lucy is a lovely lass. It's a great description of her, managing at once to be condescending and complimentary. Sadly, I think that's how Lucy really sees me, as she always seems to think I'm being nasty to her. I'm not, really. I honestly do think she's one of the nicest, friendliest, most gifted people I know. Even if she does drink from pint glasses.

Lucy is now in possession of a Fashion degree, though, in a move stunningly familiar to those in our group -see also Clive, Cat- is not sure she wants to do anything with it. Wither Lucy, then? Well, pretty much anything she wants, in all honesty. Lucy's one of those people who'd succeedd in just about anything she set her mind to. Ya know, the sort of people you feel the need to be all condescending towards. Ooops....

Lucy laughed in anticipation as Terence lined up the kick that would kill your chronicler

Diana loves to remind me that we'd met twice before I ever remembered her. To be fair, the first time was the same night I met Lucy, the second was Jon's 26th b'day party, and the third was the night I broke my wrist. That Diana was the one who bound the damaged joint and showered me with TLC is probably the only reason I remember her from that night.

Of course, Diana's many wonderful qualities that left more of a lasting impression on Matt. She helped guide him back to his religious side, and when they fell in love, there was much rejoicing. The two bought happiness into one another's lives, and their time together was joyous indeed. Finally, we had a full time couple to study, take notes on, and dissect when we got bored with them! *Insane cackle*

Anyway, Di's great, even if she does whip me at Tony Hawks. That we're always here for her goes without saying.

How exactly Gerry manages to keep up with me and Matt when the three of us go to Eros is one of life's great mysteries. He doesn't drink enough to have a drunken adrenaline rush, yet when us two young cubs are huffing out of breath, the old master boogies on until sunrise. Should I find out his secret, I'll be a very rich man, though possibly not as much so as Gerry. Moderately well off, to the tune of a trip to Majorca every six weeks or so. It's all to do with his business, apparently. Sure, Gerry, sure. We believe that. Teller of many, uh, interesting stories, of the sort that left Matt and myself wide mouthed in astonishment.

Cat's stolen my heart almost as surely as she's stolen Michale's. A lovely, chatty, friendly girl, Cat took time she'd surely have loved to spend with Michal to help me when I was going through a tough patch a couple of years back That she'd only known me a couple of days at the time just goes to show what a lovely person she is.

Cat's just finished her law degree at Cambridge. She got a first -of course- and is now off to Japan to sit in conversation groups and help people learn English. Sitting and talking. Talking and sitting. I think she'll do well...

Can't park a car, and when he does, can't pull out of the space. He's from Essex, so he can't cope with big city driving. Dear oh dear. Matt's also the baby of our group. He's only just turned 21, making him the youngest of the 'Everybody' clique. That's the thing I'm not part of, and you have to be young, hip, and a terminal Friends addict to join. Or own your own house, anyway. Personally, I'm not that fussed...

Matt was one of the Rhodes trippers which recently devastated the small town of Faliraki. I should point out that all the trouble started when we'd left. Once all the girls found out we were no longer on the island, there was a riot...

Clare's another one who studies Maths, and is about to start the third year of her degree. She's studying at Bath (without an R) which is, apparently, the real place to go if you want to be a mathmetician. She's dating Jeremy, one of her ex-supervisors -shock, horror!- and is all loved up and blissed out. she is not, however, above infuriating me with flirty text messages which make me feel all confused due to her boyfriend. Please don't think I'm complaining about this, though...

One of these days, I'm going to spend time with Emma where we get to know one another a bit better than we do at the moment. Currently, we've been to Kintbury three times together -she spent the last year on the team- and yet our total time chatting is comfrtably under an hour, i should imagine. But she's lovely, gorgeous, talented and gave me a big hug as soon as I got to Kintbury this year. And that's enough to get on this page, quite frankly.

You can kind of tell when Sunny's about. Someone'll ay something a little bit cheeky, and her voice will rise to the edge of hearing in protest. She's lovely, but kinda kills the ears if you're too rude around her. Maybe it's intentional...

Like Di, Sunny is a nursery nurse, which basically means she's adored by a whole range of low IQ individuals who worship the very ground she walks on. When she goes to work, however...

Sally is one of Diana's best mates, which means that over the course of the last year and a half, she's slowly been dragged into our group. Not that she's complaining too much. She does, after all, get to hang out with me. And Jase. She probably should complain, really...

Sally's a great traveller, and recently spent several months in Australia. Words cannot do justice to the level of envy I have for her. I'd do anything to hang out with koalas and kangaroos.

I have no idea where the nickname comes from. I don't see Chris as being much of a Lone Ranger fan. Instead, he worships the scene in Terminator where Arnie blows away the first Sarah Connor. He tries to dress like Arnie, too, athough this may soon change. On a recent trip to Bournemout, we spoted not one, but two eight year old boys runnng around in the exact same shirt as Chris had on. Embarassing much?

Chris is a one for the ladies or, at least, was. Now he's been whipped into shape by Michelle, although the all powerful pheromones he emits mean he still has women jumping all over him at the first opportunity. And he's still only 17!

A true romantic, Paul is a Bon Jovi fan with a truly wonderful taste in clothing. That his shirts are only slightly less gaudy than fine is impressive. That his hats and sunglasses are as gaudy as his shirts is something to which I must bow down and worship.

Paul is an excellent guitarist and, as a singer, makes an excellent guitarist as well. Still, it took guts to do what he did at the cabaret. That he'll want to die every time we mention it is just one more reason to bring it up occasionally.

A humble wonder. Fran sings, plays guitar, is lovely, gorgeous, and all-around talented. And doesn't appear to know it. She graced me with her performance in our last night cabaret act, and had the skill to turn our duet into something bearable. Now, before she gets big headed...

Fran's spent the last year on the team at Kintbury. She's now off to university, although which one she's not entirely certain. Whichever it is, she's bound to be a big hit at, if for no other reason than she does a great impersonation of Alice from The Vicar of Dibley.

Michelle is mad as a hatter, and loves it. She recently died her hair pink, which you have to respect, quite frankly. She's about to go off to college to study child care, with a view to becoming a nanny. I've no doubt she'll be great in the role, being kind, caring, and funny. And she loves Tigger, which means she'll be happy watching Winnie the Pooh videos all day long. Isn't that what all pro child-care people do?

Word to the wise, though. She sleep walks. Make damn sure you lock her door, just in case she tries to go somewhere, or do something, embarassing...

Various people on the page have suffered the indignity of having a song written about them. I no longer point it out, but they're still there. Even the ones with the ex-girlfriends in...