Since I started Uni, splitting my life between multiple towns has lead to the unexpected advantage of having multiple birthdays in any given year. This year shall be no different, except it's now a case of multiple countries, and I'm mad enough to invite you lot to one of the parties. With me in this endeavour is The Debutante, who also fancies two birthdays, and thus you are invited to join us for our combined 50th on November 11-12th. Those who know us well might recognise that as being neither of our birthdays, and suspect that we're just splitting the difference as an excuse for another drunken Bristol nodermeet. So, if you prefer, you can think of it as a farewell party, since I was far too busy with finals to say goodbye to the West country before relocating to Scotland; whilst The Debutante might well not be in the country for her birthday, so it makes sense to celebrate earlier.

Regardless, it is a party, and should feature a glittering selection of Everything's Best Users, the admin team, and me; along with such essentials as cake, pin the beard on the Rabbi, pass the parcel and musical statues to the finest sounds of the 80s. I suspect there may be some drinking involved too.

The Science bit

Saturday 11th - Sunday 12th November, 2006

The Debutante's flat, Bristol. (I'm not quite that mad.) (Are you suggesting that I'm mad? DEB) (Mad enough, it seems! G) (Agreed. I've lost the plot. DEB)


  • Tonic is interested, if he can find a cheap enough flight from Ohio!

Not Attending
  • Diabolic intends to attend Britnodermeets after moving to Spain, but for now is in Texas.
  • Hazelnut is in Paris.
  • Heisenberg tries to avoid Bristol. and ascorbic.
  • Junkill dreams of being able to visit, but fears it cannot be this year.
  • scarletblood is unfortunately half the world away, and thus doesn't expect to get here until 2009, which is a little late.
  • Timeshredder is in London, but on the wrong continent, much to our distress.
  • wordnerd is across the pond, but sends his best.

Contact me or The Debutante to be added to the above list, or for more practical details. Once we've thought of some.

Okay, so maybe people would like some logistical information. Plans remains fluid (how can they not, with all the alcohol flowing?), so be prepared for changes.

I'm thinking that we should have lunch at mine at mine on Saturday. Simple food - soup, salad, cheese - before heading to the pub. The party will start some time around 8pm. I hope that everyone has gorgeous party clothes planned for the event. My superhero boots will be making an entrance. Food, games, maybe something to drink. You sleep where you fall, followed by pancakes for breakfast on Sunday. If I'm not hideously hungover.


The writeups below capture the spirit of events perfectly, so I'd just like to thank everyone who turned up, be it from near or far. I had a great time, and I hope you did too.

For those of you who didn't make it (or did, but can't really remember much of it), photo galleries can be found here, here, here, here, and here.

I had a terrific time, and hope that everyone else did, too. Thank you all so much for joining us to celebrate our birthdays. I can't promise that there'll be a 2007 installment, but, well, after three in the past four years, it would be a shame to stop now!

The nodermeet ended up at a police station, Ophelia met her unfortunate demise, and the Debutante seems to have caught a 24 hour case of the shakes. Such is the aftermath of a Saturday of drunken debauchery in the soft underbelly of the west country's pearl - Bristol. But let's not get ahead of ourselves...

It all started a stormy evening in September, when The Debutante and our venerable meetwriteup co-host Wntrmute decided that their birthdays needed celebrating in full-out noder stylee. The plan was to gather the biggest number of deviants possible in one place: Chez DEB, Bristol.

RSVPs started pouring in from all over the globe, and some from outer space too. Unfortunately they were in languages unheard of, so the aliens never showed. Bastards.

After a while, it became clear that there would be more noders than you can shake a lesbian at. Even the thus-far elusive OberonDarkSoul was to make an appearance! Oh, how the noders rejoiced.

During the build-up to the noder meet, practical problems started to form. Most eminently: Where was everybody going to crash out at the end of the alcohol-fueled festivities? This problem ended up driving The Debutante to insomnia, sending random messages to Wntrmute, including the 4am insight: "I think we could squeeze more in the living-room?". The response is unclear, but we expect the response was something along the lines of "hmf?" (Which loosely translates to: 'Bugger off, I'm asleep!' and 'I'm so glad it's not my flat.')

CloudStrife beat everybody else to the scene of the crime, by arriving a full day ahead of everybody else. Did you read the invite, Neal? Obviously received with open arms, he was duly fed and pointed at a futon.

Then, the big day arrived, along with Wntrmute (who showed up around noon), closely followed by La petite mort and StrawberryFrog. Some champagne might have been perused at this point, but as with everything else about the ensuing evening, the details are a tiny bit fuzzy.

Albert Herring and Sam512 were the next noders to join the compliment, swiftly followed by Archiewood. From this point in the evening, The Debutante (and the rest of us) spent worrying about K9 and TheLady, who were to pick up the everlasting Wertperch from Doom (that'd be Heathrow, then, eh?). As it turned out, K9 and TheLady couldn't keep their grubby paws off the 'perch, and he was swiftly abducted for unmentionable acts of doubtful character in Swindon. What happens in Swindon stays in Swindon, but the trio insist Wertperch was merely sleepy, and needed a nap en-route.

ascorbic, his gorgeous (non-noding... yet) female counterpart and SharQ kept in touch throughout the day, but refused to show up until there was alcohol in glasses. (At this point I would like to point out I've been thoroughly chastised for suggesting that The Debutante and Wntrmute were anything but perfect hosts. This interjection is merely a literary device, and an attempt at humour (humor?) so sue us.)

Andrew Aguecheek managed to find the general area, but was whimsying about in the street outside, looking only slightly menacing in his all-black attire. Consequently, he was spotted by eagle-eyed noders, and was directed from a hanging-out-of-the-window Debutante, in what now has grown to be traditional Bristol Nodermeet Fashion.

ascorbic, ascorbette and SharQ arrive at the murder scene, (quite literally: The Debutante's orchid, Ophelia, met a nasty fate) and everybody starts putting on coats, hats, scarves, and start scampering out the front door. Cheers guys, I know I needed a shower, but damn. Anyway, it seems that the plan involved the Tobacco Factory - i.e the local pub. Before we were ready to leave the place, however, The Debutante was chanted and hooted at until she would made the as-promised superhero boots make an entry. Of course, the superhero boots didn't go with the current outfit, which then necessitated a full outfit change - including handbag (causing confusion later). The swift 90 second transmogrification was as impressive as her ability to walk down the street in 4-inch heels, and the baptism of the new outfit, courtesy of La petite mort: Super-Jewish Princess.

At the Tobacco Factory, we started the full-scale alcohol abuse. Soon after the intake of our first round, a new group of familiar faces invaded the 'Factory - Wertperch led the Swindon trio into the lion's den, followed by much hugs and celebratory welcomes.

The Debutante and Wntrmute sloped off nearly un-noticed, to prepare the flat for the chaos that would comprise of Pin the Beard on the Rabbi, Pass the Parcel, various other games, near-lethal alcohol consumption, and eight and a half million sandwiches. (Wntrmute points out he thinks there only were eight milion. Sorry, I lost count at 43.)

Back at the Tobacco Factory, rounds were bought, friendships were forged and re-forged, and the debauchery reached high levels. At 7:15, La Petite Mort took a group of thirsty noders to the nearest off-licence on an alcohol procurement mission, and promptly at 7:45, the kitten-herding continued, in an effort to get the coven of Noders back to the Noder Flat, for further celebration.

Back at the noder flat, The Debutante is about to have a nervous breakdown, - not for the first time that week - thinking there wasn't enough food, worrying about if the pass-the-parcel gift was wrapped in enough layers, if there was enough alcohol present (although Wntrmute points out that was never going to be the problem), and of course, the sleeping situation.

In the middle of the sandwich production, Spiregrain showed up, bearing much alcohol. We like him.

The noders started taking care of themselves, which mostly involved drinking various liquid things, and eating solid things, and doing in-between actions with in-between things. Y'know, standard party-type-stuff.

The first game on the menu was Pass the Parcel, The Debutante was obviously the Music Maestro (bouncing up and down in the process, and looking vastly annoyed whenever she was passed the parcel - didn't these cretins get the game at all?). The layers came off the package like clothes off a thai hooker, and all along, TheLady was complaining about the lack of nudity. ascorbette was the lucky winner of the night's first prize - a kite! Ecstatic, she celebrated with beer. As you do.

After much mingling, drinking, and general merriment, it was time for Musical Statues, which had to be explained to several of the noders. If there is one lesson to take home from this, kids, it's that alcohol is bad, m'kay? Anyway, Archiewood walked away with the prize, with ascorbette in a close second place.

K9 makes his farewells, and heads back to Swindon because he's gotta work on Sunday (poor bugger).

The final game of the evening was Pin the Beard on the Rabbi, which led to hillarious nearly-drawing-on-the-walls incidents, much laughter, and Albert Herring's first prize for the evening. The Rabbi that was used was actually the same one as last year's (so much for tidying up after parties, eh, DEB?), and as such, a minority of the noders decided to start a band called 'Last Year's Rabbi'. Right. Nanobot Deathmatch, watch out!

Some time during all of this SharQ decided he'd had enough of it all, went to the toilet, and decided to walk down the stairs and go home. Of course, he had left his house-keys in the car, so having arrived at home, the only thing he could do was to do a 180, and return back to the party. That's what you get for scampering off, you bastard! Anyway, with that mission a failure, SharQ crawls into the nearest bed and passes out, only to be awoken multiple times throughout the evening by people dumping coats, handbags, or themselves on him. Ach, ja.

Throughout all of this, there still wasn't a trace of OberonDarksoul, but, well, the next morn, DEB found a message in her E2 inbox... "Hi, many apologies for my non-attendance! I felt really quite unwell this morning, (still do, to some extent), and had to withdraw. Again, very sorry for not being able to come". Wntrmute would like to point out that feeling unwell the next morning is the whole point of a nodermeet - and DEB has just started on the champagne, 5pm the next night, to try and chase the hang-over away. Pull yourself together, young man!

Later, much later, it was sleepy time. DEB was found passed-out (officially: "asleep") on a sofa, and was carried to bed by Albert Herring. During the liftage, DEB wakes up, and announces that she has legs. She then immediately disproves the statement by falling over. Classic.

ascorbic and ascorbette decide to go home, and discover that due to the dire state of sleeping-space affairs, are going to take Wertperch to the North Bristol Noder Flat Of 100% Admin Status (which, that night, was the highest concentration of editors and admins evah. Or something). (Correction: three weeks previously ascorbic, paraclete, SharQ and The Debutante had gathered at Huset. That's more.) Calling a taxi, they decide to prod SharQ awake as well, and drag him along, too.

The going to bed saga was surprisingly well organised, when La Petite Mort decided to take control. Airbeds were inflated, groundspace was cleared, pillow-fights were had, and all the noders passed out one by one. Until Andrew Aguecheek started snoring loudly, that is, but enough about that.

The next morning, amidst minor groans, Wntrmute, unencumbered by a hang-over, woke at an unreasonably early hour to survey the damage. This proved too much to cope with so he wandered off to pick up the Sunday papers and settled down to read them on the least devastated part of the flat: the stairs. There he was joined by a vaguely functional DEB, who burrowed into a pile of blankets to try and escape a horrendous hang-over. With time the steady stream of noders - and alarming sounds of furniture rearrangement - emerging from the front room suggested it was time to attempt breakfast. Thus The Debutante, much-needed tea in hand and mostly on auto-pilot, churned out endless amounts of pancakes to placate the disgruntled horde. The Bath was cleared of alcohol, the lounge rebuilt, and various remedies cut through the fog of hangovers only for brains to be re-fried by rounds of Fluxx and MahJongg.

The North Bristol admin delegation made their returm, too late for pancakes, but with the addition of a waffle iron. ascorbic took control of waffle production, allowing The Debutante to shower and change out of her purple satin pyjamas. Around 2pm, Albert Herring thought it best to return to his native Nottingham, along with wertperch and Sam512. This plan hit a slight snag when he discovered that in his haste to join the party the previous night, he had left his keys in his car. Some neighbourly neighbour reported this to the police, and the boys in blue duly locked-up his car and removed the keys for safe-keeping. SharQ volunteered to take him to the police station, whilst Sam512 and wertperch partook of tea in the flat. Around 3pm, with trains to catch, the majority of noders began to melt away, leaving the hosts, TheLady, ascorbic and ascorbette, SharQ, and a freshly-returned-from-Swindon K9 to play with children's toys and drink yet more tea.

Three hours of clearing-up later, the flat still resembles a bomb-site, but the champagne is back out, and tomorrow is another day. Would we do it again? Hell yeah!

Super-special nodermeet awards of DOOM

Best Dressed: The Debutante
Universal Zen Award: Wntrmute
Best connected to the real world: Ascorbic
Bravest by far and Bearer of Kite: Ascorbette
Most Organised: La Petite Mort
Ansel Adams Award: StrawberryFrog
Most Selfless Award: K9
Most Hung-Over by a Country Mile Award: TheLady
Hey, It was your birthday too Award: Sam512
Biggest Moron Award: SharQ
Highest Devotion: Wertperch
(still) most elusive: OberonDarksoul
X factor award: Spiregrain
Loudest Snoring Award: Andrew Aguecheek
Feed the local criminals award: Albert Herring
Special Tidy Award: CloudStrife
Nodermeet Virgin Award: archiewood

This was my first nodermeet, so a lot of this was new to me. What follows is not wholly word-perfect (read: largely fictionalised) but most of the events referred to actually happened. Consider this the screenplay for the movie adaptation of the nodermeet.

"I'm Sam 'sam512' Hughes."

"Your screen name and real name are the same? That's a bit confusing."

"Well, I'm not very good with names."

"Well, anyway, this is Albert Herring, Andrew Aguecheek, archiewood, ascorbic, 'ascorbette', CloudStrife, La petite mort, SharQ, StrawberryFrog, The Debutante and Wntrmute. We're missing OberonDarkSoul."

"Pleasure to meet you all. ...So what are all your names again?"

"Tea? Champaggun? Would you like something to eat?"

(Chomp chomp) "Yes, I'd like a- Y- How did you do that? You gave me an apple? Backwards in time?"




(Ophelia is a plant.)


"So you've been diagnosed as a goth? I am so sorry."

"I'm coming to terms with it."


"We're going to go to The Tobacco Factory. (It's just a name.)"

"I need to get changed first. ...I'm done."

"That was fast."

"You can't fight crime wearing those!"


(And there was beer.)

"...He's asleep? In Swindon? Neither of those were part of the plan!"

"By the way, it's also my actual birthday. I'm hijacking this birthday party, you hear? It's mine."


"Hooray! It's K9, TheLady and wertperch!"


"So... you guys are actually... all... ordinary people?"


"We're heading back home!"

"We're going to buy more alcohol on the way back. We only have six bottles of champagne left."

"By the way, that wasn't what I meant when I suggested bathing in champagne. It was very cold and my ankles got bruised."


"We're back!"

"That is a LOT of sandwiches."

"That sounds like a challenge to me!"


"I really don't think there'd be any point in having a gun instead of an arm. Unless you spend fifty, sixty percent of your day shooting at people."


"Wait, are there any lesbians here or not? Is there even any soy?"

"We could get Chinese."


"Somebody needs to form a band called 'Last Year's Rabbi'. Right now."


"We're not playing Musical Bumps after we play Musical Statues, are we? I'm at a natural disadvantage of at least a foot. I simply can't fall that fast."

"Dance close to the ground."

"I guess I could breakdance. ...No. No, actually, I couldn't."


"My theory is OberonDarkSoul has been here the whole time. He's a dark soul, right? The clue is in the question."


"How many sleeping bags do we have? Hands up everybody with a sleeping bag?"

(Several hands go up.)

"...Or an airbed?"

(Several different hands go up.)

"So we're fine, then!"

"Wait, don't we need one of each, each?"

"I have two lilos."

"Perfect! Let's use neither of them."

"What do you mean, we're separating girls and boys? What kind of party is this?"

"Why are we making sleeping arrangements? It's only two!"


"I'm going to be SO hung when I wake up tomorrow. I'm really bad when I'm hung over."

"Have you considered staying awake all night, thereby never waking up tomorrow?"

"It's already tomorrow."



(Lights out.)







"Gyargh. Natural light."


"Don't touch me, I'm fragile."


"My neck hurts. What are bedrolls supposed to be for?"

"Weren't you using a lilo?"

"There were lilos?!"


"This room smells like a brothel. Cigarette smoke and too many men who slept in their clothes."

"I, for one, brought pyjamas."

"What are you, some kind of prepared person?"




"What, no Maple Syrup?"


"I'll have some."


"Phew, guess that's me again."


(Sound of chomping.)


"A fourth? Well, if everybody else is full, sure."


"How many of these are you making?"


"I don't think she can hear me."

"That jug of batter is refilling itself."


"She's unreachable. We need to distract her. Get a waffle iron."

"I can't in good conscience—"



"So what's the aim of Fluxx?"

"There isn't one to start with."

"Great. I declare myself the winner."


"Mahjongg is based on Gin?"

"A lot of things are."




"So whose is this sleeping bag?"

"Erm, well I've got mine."

"Mine is the red one."

"We have all ours. No, seriously, whose is this?"

"Everybody's got their sleeping bags who brought them. They must be yours."

"They aren't."

"We're all here, right? We all have our sleeping bags? Whose is this? It's black! Who brought a black sleeping bag?"

"Well, if you remember, yesterday we were so uncertain about how many sleeping bags we had, we could have been so uncertain that there was spontaneously another one."

"With quantum?"

"Well, also, it was quite a lot colder in here this morning than last night."


"A present? For me? Oh! You got me Science! How did you know?"




"Erm, I've lost my car key."

"Hah, yeah, that was pretty funny."

"No, really. Car's unusable."

"Yeah, I know. You told me that one on the way over."






"I've got the key back!"

"Great! I mean, boo."



"Goodbye everybody!"

"You're all clearly awesome!"


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