“Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to miiiind.”
We are stood around my coffee table having just watched the New Year fireworks, and now the nine of us are stood, arms crossed and with hands held, singing that classic New Year song, “Auld Lang Syne”.
“Should old acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne.”
So far so good. I have been twenty-twelve for about three minutes and so far no-one has tried to force some horrendous drink upon me. Just as we approach the chorus, my University friend, The Claw (not hooded), looks at me with an evil grin.
“For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.”
A few unsure glances are exchanged among us, and this confirms to me that no-one knows the tricky second verse. It is like tying a bow-tie or flirting, how can you be expected to remember how it goes when you only try it once a year, at the very most.
Like millions of other people up and down the country, we decide to sing the first verse again.
“Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to miiiind.”
I try and get everyone to sing the first verse for a third time, but we eventually finish and some brief snogs ensue and I try and kop a feel from my female friends. It is OK, it is my birthday so it is allowed. Expected, even.
Then the nightmare begins.
“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Angry, Happy Birthday to youuuu!”
This is a song that it is generally nice to hear, especially when it is sung to you. Unless, it directly follows Auld Lang Syne and the room is filled with more booze than at an any other point during the year.
“Drink this!”
“Neck it.”
“Down it you fucking girl!”
All birthday greetings you do not want to hear when you’ve just entered your very late twenties.
The Claw walks over with a pint of what looks like Orange squash. I have known The Claw since my first days at University, and one thing I could be sure of, I was not going to enjoy this drink. And I didn’t. Or the next one. Or the one after, that tasted a bit like a smoothie, recently regurgitated by an alcoholic homeless person.
Later, as I lay on my bed, fully clothed and drifting in and out of consciousness, just 45 minutes into my twenty twelfth year, I wonder if I am a little bit to old for this.
Downstairs someone has plugged in my electric guitar and has begun playing, very badly, that other all time New Years Eve classic, “She’s Electric” by Oasis.
In an attempt to escape the spinning bedroom, I pass out.
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22 comments
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Equine Pimp · January 5, 2007 at 9:13 am
I am very concerned. You mention The Claw and then lead onto brief snogs. With the knowledge I have of the pair of you, that is not a place I wanted my mind to go (EVER!!)
You’re not too old you big girl and you should neck another pint immediately as a forfeit for even thinking like that.
Oli · January 5, 2007 at 9:17 am
I always sing the theme tune to one foot in the grave, hope like hell everyone else is singing too loudly to hear what im saying.
Betty · January 5, 2007 at 9:27 am
Excellent tune that one.
The Oasis one that is, I don’t even know the first line of the other one.
Usually too busy snogging to sing anyway.
Admin comment by Mr Angry · January 5, 2007 at 10:06 am
EP – There was no snogging between the Claw and I, no matter how much he wanted it.
Oli – How can you know that, and not Auld Lang Syne?
Betty – You haven’t heard Amy murder it.
Judith · January 5, 2007 at 10:30 am
Now you know why nobody else knows the second verse either:
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?
CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp,
And surely I’ll be mine,
And we’ll tak a cup o kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou’d the gowans fine,
But we’ve wander’d monie a weary fit,
Sin auld lang syne.
We twa hae paidl’d in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin auld lang syne.
And there’s a hand my trusty fiere,
And gie’s a hand o thine,
And we’ll tak a right guid-willie waught,
For auld lang syne
Equine Pimp · January 5, 2007 at 10:38 am
You could have got away with blaming The Claw once. The second time – unlikely but at least possible but a third insistance that it is all one sided just sounds like denial on your part.
Get out of that wardrobe !!!!
You also deserved to drink horrible pints just for the 16th century texts you insisted on sending to me News Years Eve.
Léonie · January 5, 2007 at 11:32 am
EP please elaborate on the 16th century texts.
I usually am too busy snogging as well, as it’s easier than remembering words to a song I never knew in the first place.
BoyOnTop · January 5, 2007 at 12:05 pm
Wait until you hit twenty twenty-something as old lang syne, necking pints and generally necking are activities that happen elsewhen as you are soundly asleep (given the ankle biters will be up at 6am).
Admin comment by Mr Angry · January 5, 2007 at 12:13 pm
Judith – I will never remember all that. What are you doing on 31st December this year?
EP – 16th century? It was Dickensian!
Léonie – I have no recollection of the text content, except that the Equine Pimp started it. I wasn’t too busy snogging, unfortunately. In fact, I got very little considering I was the birthday boy (altogether now, “Ahhhh…”)
BoT – I will probably be dead by then, you know what they say, “Only the good die young”. Which I guess means that Mother Theresa was a right old bitch behind closed doors.
greavsie · January 5, 2007 at 12:14 pm
Did someone mention necking?
Equine Pimp · January 5, 2007 at 12:19 pm
Léonie – lots of twas, mayhap and forsooth bollocks. Not quite sure how I started this as the first two texts I sent to Angry consisted of wishing him a happy new year and telling him to fuck off (in a nice way obviously).
Angry – 16th Century, Dickensian, it’s all crap
TJ · January 5, 2007 at 12:55 pm
You haven’t mentioned the bit about your female friend catching you attempting to pass out on your bed, having pretended you were just going upstairs to the loo.
You know, the bit where you lobbed her across the bed (not as well as I’ve seen it done on the movies) and then tried to make her go to sleep so she wouldn’t leg it down the stairs and tell everyone that you passed out like a complete lightweight!
Admin comment by Mr Angry · January 5, 2007 at 2:45 pm
greavsie – only in passing…
EP – You have no need to explain yourself, and stop flirting with my readers. She is not a horse.
TJ – It is not that kind of blog.
Equine Pimp · January 5, 2007 at 3:10 pm
Flirting??? Personally I thought it was answering a question. Is there a green-eyed Angry lurking behind that comment? I hope not, I don’t want the guns to be unleashed in my direction.
AND, for the record, I do not flirt with the horses. I simply provide them as sexual partners for interested parties (very discreet service – as you know)
Betty · January 5, 2007 at 4:02 pm
Ooh! Angry fancies Leonie!!!
Dr_Clip · January 5, 2007 at 4:04 pm
I heard you were spooning with your friend.
lloyd · January 5, 2007 at 4:08 pm
where was my snog
Admin comment by Mr Angry · January 5, 2007 at 4:15 pm
EP – Stop touting for business then, and the guns will stay under wraps
Betty – She will have to join the queue for the harem like everyone else.
Dr Clip – Chinese whispers, be wary of them.
lloyd – were you that pissed you’ve forgotten?
Glammer · January 5, 2007 at 4:32 pm
FTR, there’s 3 verses and you don’t cross arms until the last verse. Then you stab somebody.
Glammer · January 5, 2007 at 4:58 pm
Actually, there are more verses but trad arr is to sing three, plus choruses. Don’t ask me which ones, but these are they:
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?
CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp,
And surely I’ll be mine,
And we’ll tak a cup o kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou’d the gowans fine,
But we’ve wander’d monie a weary fit,
Sin auld lang syne.
We twa hae paidl’d in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin auld lang syne.
And there’s a hand my trusty fiere,
And gie’s a hand o thine,
And we’ll tak a right guid-willie waught,
For auld lang syne
Glammer · January 5, 2007 at 5:00 pm
And afore ye tak a peppie, here ra translation:
auld lang syne – times gone by
be – pay for
braes – hills
braid – broad
burn – stream
dine – dinner time
fiere – friend
fit – foot
gowans – daisies
guid-willie waught – goodwill drink
monie – many
morning sun – noon
paidl’t – paddled
pint-stowp – pint tankard
pou’d – pulled
twa – two
marycub · January 5, 2007 at 8:41 pm
i can’t believe ppl actually went looking for the full version and then posted it on here – noone ever learns auld lang syne because noone actually gives a toss
and are usually too drunk to get that far anyway 
where you very ill the next day? Mysterious oddly coloured pints are never good news.