The World’s Wildest Dudes decided to lay on a party for us.  A full-on “book out a local hall” kind of party. It was great. We came, we drank, we ate, we sang, we played football and we laughed. I got to meet more people I’d only spoken to online and for the second time in a row we didn’t need to watch someone fall under the table.

Pictures tell more than words.

Playing football at a community centre in Govan at midnight has never been so much fun.

Central to this meeting going a lot better than the last one were two notions; let’s eat something first, and not go over the top on drink.

So the first was easily accomplished by everyone meeting at The Panda at The Quay. We were a bit late after wandering around Glasgow city centre hoovering up the people who didn’t know where they were going. Also, it turns out that The Quay is further away than I though, but it is over the squiggly bridge so I got to see that.

As shown, we all got stuck in (no idea why I’m rubbing the bridge of my nose in exasperation) and unlike the last time I did Chinese buffet, there were veggie options. After we’d ate our fill there (a tenner a head including tip) we decamped to the bowling alley across the way for a few drinks, some arcades and quizzers.

The day wasn’t without a small amount of drama as we still had two attendees MIA at this point. Turns out, what midi thought was akira’s number definitely wasn’t, more likely Twan taking the piss. Nearly twenty four hours later we still have no idea where akira is or if he ever made it to Glasgow. Boots was also nowhere to be seen and it turns out he did make it across to Glasgow, went to the wrong restaurant, had no phone to get in touch with anyone and couldn’t find an internet cafe to post on the forum. Midi got a bit stressed that some people had missed out but we collectively convinced him that travelling to a gathering without knowing exactly where you were going was a recipe for disaster.

Anyway, after a few quid was won from the quizzer we moved back to the city centre where a couple of us lobbied to just head into the first large Wetherspoons we came to. A few of the crowd headed up to the bus station to see if they could locate akira while the rest got stuck into a few pints.

What followed was several hours of top notch geekery as we reminisced, argued, took the piss, laughed, and laughed and laughed. I was sad to leave but had taken the decision to head back across rather than find somewhere to sleep in Glasgow, largely because I wanted a get-out clause if it all went badly. Next time I’ll book myself into the Novotel and have a proper night out.

From left to right; MrCadbury, me, willziak, 87th, Perrin Ashcroft, greenwood85, midi, doboworth, mentazm.

And, behind the camera, jonnyorgan;

ConCon 2 – Good Meeting!

(Restaurant picture stolen from midi, second picture from jonnyorgan, and the third is mine)

Perhaps we shouldn’t have arranged such an early start to the day, but that aside, it’s up to the individual to know their limits and not tank as much drink as they can. Especially when others are telling them to pace themselves.

Falling under the table at 7:30pm is not a good sign. Dividing the country into northern poofs, shandy drinking souther poofs, cunts and hard men from the northeast who do nothing but drink, fight and fuck doesn’t endear you to anyone. Neither does asking incredibly personal questions of other people at the table.

Having the night wrap itself up at 10:30 was a real blow. Especially to those who traveled a long way to be there and find themselves verbally abused in “jest”.

We’ll see how many people are willing to attend the summer bash if certain people announce that they’ll be going. I suspect the numbers will drop dramatically in that case.