Worms in the attic, poo at ten

Worms in the attic; this was the chosen warm up activity for the latest poker tournament, this time hosted at casino Thompson in Ashington.

We took the XBox and an ample cache of Stella up into the seemingly pre-refigerated loft. A 4 player game of Timesplitters 2 gave us a flavour of the Halo 2 tournament to follow. A few beers sunk and the Asda own brand nachos doing the rounds we decided to go retro and so fired up Worms on the Snes Emulator.

Worms is a fantastically adictive game which alongside with Super Mariocarts influenced the best parts of my time at university. I would often choose a 5 hr epic grudge match over a seminar in Video Game Animation - ironic when you think about it. Each player has a team of 4 randomly placed worms and has to use an assortment of ballistics, guns and explosives to knack the other worms.

Anyway - it was nothing like I remembered it. Using a 21st century xbox controller for a classic twentieth centruy game was like using a mobile phone at Beamish! We all struggled frantically to find the the button that unleashed the devastating cluster bomb before the timer would run out, leaving our worm looking Swiss.

In between controlling worms, Diddy decided to peel a square inch scab* from his shoulder and deposit it into a empty Stella bottle.

* This was apparently the scab from 5 a side

Beerless and Nacholess in the loft we left our gaming thrones to join the ladies downstairs to feast on home made curry and 3 big bars of novelty* chocolate (*the novelty is it has bits of honey and almond in)

After a couple of practice rounds to let Tracey at least pretend she knew what was going on, we started and Jose Gonzales set the scene with his chilled out ramblings.

It wasn't long until big Jimmy Beam joined us at the table, easing the losers pain and reinforcing the winners confidence. By this point I was up, in fact I think I was winning the most, best part of it was I didnt need to bluff, which is good cos my maiden poker outing proved that I'm shit at bluffing. Mrs Diddy was on a contrasting losing streak, as was the ususally prolific emperor Steven, losing to his former prey and buying in chips like Robert Redford in Indecent Proposal.

The games were puncuated by the essential toilet breaks which forged the opportunity for the cerebral among us to hide Chris H's chips. We seemed to wait for ages for Chris to return and so quickly agreed that he must be "using toilet paper" - On his return the focus moved quickly from the "Great Prank of 2005" to toilet behaviours and in particular the regularity of the group. I was suprised to find that Chris H also has a daily 10am appointment with Armitage Shanks. In my case this is more of a finely tuned money saving exercise than an accident; I only use toilet roll at weekends and for the occasional random fun poo! I wonder if all Chris's poo at 10am(GMT)?

I dont know how many rounds we played, but Tracey only won one, I think maybe I'd made her over cautious by saying "now, are you sure" anytime she parted with more than one chip!

At around midnight Taxi logistics were discussed and once 1am was decided as closing time, Mrs Diddy insisted Diddy phone Diddy Daddy to find out how Diddy Jnr was and to let them know of their ETA. After 3 calls to Diddy Daddy and no reply things began to get all Kramer vs Kramer. As Nichola became anxious at her inlaws apparent deafness, Diddy tried to appease by offering the explaination of his parents being currently engaged in intercourse. I think we all felt bilious at that point, except Diddy, choosing instead to bathe in the glory of his own sick mind.

The Diddy's persistance paid off, the incessant ringing clearly disturbing the parental romp long enough for them to learn of their son's safety.

The night ended at 1am. Despite Diddy's questionable arithmitic, I was £10 up and Tracey was £6 down so we walked away with £4! and a fridge full of lager!!!

I had a poo at 10am on the dot monday morning, comforted in the knowledge that Chris's around the globe were doing the same!