The occasion was of course, the 1st Annual Etruscan House Awards, set in a 70-strong Staffordshire University Hall of Residence in Stoke-on-Trent, England.
Two months ago, fuelling our creative juices by smoking fags and eating satsumas, the three of us sat in my room and came up with over 100 possible categories for our awards ceremony. By the end of the evening, they were slimmed down to a reasonable 69 and, after being laboriously typed into the computer, they became the 'Nomination Form'.
All the awards had names, and some, we admit now, were tailored to specific people in the hall, but half the fun was to see if the rest of the residents got the jokes. Some were obvious (The Paul Barton Award for The Most Academic Warden, Academic Warden, The Jas Award for Worst Music). Others were obscure, (The Blair Witch Award for Most Likely To Be Killed By The Blair Witch), and some downright obscene (The Person You Think About Most, (From This Hall of Residence), When You Masturbate Award). But hey, we're students, right?
We sent out the forms to all the residents a couple of weeks later when we'd finally got them printed out, and the results started to pour in, or under, our doors. Being students, and therefore into cost-effective methods of planning and research, we used a spreadsheet. Not that we knew how to use one of course, but it sounded professional.
Shortly after, we set the date, Tuesday 14th March, in the common room downstairs. The posters said smart dress only, with the only other stipulation being that if you didn't bring a bottle, you had to bring a granny. Thankfully, everyone was drinking.
Long hours at the computer gave us the certificates, and fed us the results. We divided up the awards, careful not to read out any we were nominated for ourselves, and discovered the theme tune to Van Der Valk to use as entrance music. Halfway there. We even managed costumes, me and Vinny as the superheroes Cripple Boy and Shag Boy respectively, and Keeble as our villainous Mexican nemesis, and the common room was decorated with porn, spelling out the name of the awards on the back wall.
So that was how we found ourselves silently shitting our pants in my room at 9.25pm on the 14th. Still, we made our entrance, (to Van Der Valk) and the atmosphere was beyond what we expected. It gave us such a buzz when we walked in that I don't think we actually knew what to say. The only thing we could do was open a can of beer and get right with it.
For me, the actual ceremony was a blur. The nominees were cheered on by all (three votes in a category to get a nomination), and there were a few surprises in who won what when we ripped open the envelopes. Through my alcoholic amnesia though, I do remember a few gems. Of the winners, Kirsty showed us just why she had won the Erect Nipples award, and a couple of the girls 'revealed', with a quick pull down of the pants, why Vinny won the award for Smallest Penis, and also, inexplicably, the award for Biggest Testicles.
There was a poem dedicated to Etruscan House read out by our Welsh Stereotypically Native award winner Gareth, and an impromptu rise of the crowd for a rendition of the Welsh National Anthem. Gandy proclaimed the entire hall 'bastards' as he picked up awards for Manly-Looking Woman, AND Womanly-Looking Man, and Tall Ian expressed his gratitude in winning the Most Average award with a totally average acceptance speech. There was even the obligatory fire alarm.
Retrospectively, the night was an absolute storm, and I think most people were genuinely overjoyed with their awards, even the winners of, and I'll not name them, the Steaming Vagina Award for Hottest Knickers and the male/female Secret Masturbater awards.
I know I had a great time, even if I can't remember much, but certain events do tend to stick in the mind. Events like these you'll always take with you, wherever you go. And I hope that because of moments like Vinny's extrapolated speech on the wonders of the clitoris; Ross's mum phoning as he picked up the award for Mummy's Boy; Gem crying as she crawled to the podium to collect the award for Most Decorated Hallway; the riot that took place as the North were crowned kings of the North or South award; and the complete lack of anybody turning up to collect the Who The Hell Are You Lord Lucan award, this night will be stored in the memory of Etruscan House for a very, very long time.
Written by Paul Halfpenny