Thursday January 6th 2011
I claim not to do advertorials – ads written like objective articles, usually designed to look like legitimate and independent news stories – out of some spurious sense of journalistic integrity. But one thing I am willing to do is accept any and all free shit from literally anybody who’s offering.
So when T-Mobile offered to organise a ‘Night In’ for me and some friends and suggested that said night could take place on New Years Eve, I politely accepted. It was all being organised in order to promote their new ‘Night In‘ promotion in association with Blockbuster (apparently they didn’t go as bankrupt as I thought).
They gave me a massive Tesco giftcard (which is a real thing that actually exists) to buy ‘party stuff’ with, so as I live in the one area of London without a branch of that particular supermarché, me and two helpers trotted off to the enormo-Tescos by Earls Court and loaded a trolley with a bountiful selection of goods. We had to get a cab back, natch.
T-Mobile ‘suggested’ that the night itself should also have some kind of movie theme, so when the big day finally arrived we went to down to Blockbuster and selected a film to watch before the celebrations began. Unfortunately, I’d seen literally every one of the 4000 romantic comedies starring Michelle Monaghan that were available, and didn’t particularly relish seeing any of them again, so we were left to choose between three particularly juicy titles from the bargain bin:
As tempted as we were by a film in which Ashton Kutcher plays a boxer named Walter, price and general curiosity both pointed us towards Agent Cody Banks 2: Destination London. As it turns out it’s actually not half bad, even if it is borderline racist and stars Keith Allen (!) as bad guy who wants to destroy St. Pauls and erect a statue of himself in its place.
But even the arrival of Allen was overshadowed by the fury that erupted when I peeled away the £4 sticker on the case to reveal…
They certainly saw me coming.
With Frankie Muniz safely back in his case, the party began and unfortunately that’s pretty much where the photos dry up. You don’t need me to show you a gallery full of sexy random strangers getting a bit pissed. That’s what the Vice Photo Blog is for.
Still, here are five ‘party cannons’ going off simultaneously at midnight:
And here’s the floor afterwards:
Henry the Hoover nearly had a nervous breakdown.
Here’s a wine glass that somebody smashed in the bathroom and then left on the floor:
And here’s one of nine entirely black photos taken after somebody broke my camera:
And hiding in the corner of this photo is the lead suspect in both cases:
Anyway, enough investigating. The night went off with a ruddy good bang and after everyone finally left at about 5am, there was still more than enough booze left to anesthetise me before Season of the Witch the following week. I offer my sincerest thanks to T-Mobile and hope that you’ll all rush out and get one of their fabulous portable telephones. Or rent something from Blockbuster.
But always check underneath the top sticker.