The Annexe!

another outlet for Bry Parasite's rampant creativity


"It's like a house, but smaller"

Ring a bell at all? No?

Well, you didn't grow up in Moray between 2001 and present day;
or you hung around with the wrong crowd (or you were a Bry-hater: suck my balls you stupid fucks!).

To those who have seen these white-painted roughcast walls, this website is for you (and it will be by you). This is for you, whether you've pissed against these walls, drunkenly hugged them, pushed someone against them and kissed their fucking faces off, or whether you prefer inside the annexe... oh hang on... that's kinda the point...


here's inside the Annexe! with added live-in Brett. It was a lot barer in December 2005 than you'll know it as now, but hey, the parties still happened last year, and the year before, and the year before...

WHAT THE ANNEXE HAS GOT!

Arse-parking receptacles:
2 armchairs
2 beds to sit or sleep in
Deckchairs (oh wait, they're all fucked)
A large area of terracotta floor tiling

Entertainments
TV (occasionally)
VHS player (occasionally)
DVD player (occasionally)
CD/tape player
Brett

Facilities
Plastic cups to use as ashtrays (or use the floor, if you're a cunt)
Coffee table to skin up on
Information point - local area map, bus and train timetables, taxi company numbers.
NO flushing toilet or running water (toilet in the hoose, or just piss against the wall outside.)
NO central heating (got a small radiator...)
NO mains lighting
But we have an electricity supply!

Crap
One store-room with random crap like bicycles and the freezer for the Leech household (ice cream tends to mysteriously disappear whenever placed in it though... bwahaha!)
One store-room with a lot of Bry's worldly possessions: random crap like videos, gig flyers, school jotters, many notebooks of teenage poetry and fiction (don't laugh) (OK, do)
Lots of punk rock posters, flyers, gig tickets and random crap on the walls; and a Bad Religion poster-flag.
Bitchin'.

Rules of the Annexe

NO!

anything goes, baby.



Unless Bry's mum comes in.
In case of that emergency, kindly extinguish all joints, hide all drug paraphrenalia, put your clothes on if necessary so she won't go:

"BRYANNNNNNNNN!"

Which you'll hear a lot.

Even if Bry is absent, or if the mountain of drugs we hid is discovered and it's all other people's,
it's ALWAYS Bry's fault.
That is the Law of the Annexe.

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