As Darren Musson's official biographer I gave the first of several heart felt eulogies.
For those who missed it here it is, unabridged.
For those who missed it here it is, unabridged.
My mate Darren lived to party.
He Party-ed hardyer than everyone in the whole world. No-one else could, or would, boast to still be celebrating the Millennium 11 years on. Only the Mighty Musson-meister.
I got on the Musson Party Express train at St. George's.
Denim and Leather brought us together. That and 80's Heavy Metal, attempted bible burning and underage boozing in the East Kent Arms.
Those school days were full of carefree fun like eating lug worm, spending way too much time in graveyards, going to see Vigilante, getting chased by 100 of the Ramsgate Casual Firm, setting fire to Nadine Hudson's hair in maths.
You know, the usual kind of thing.
Most of my "firsts" were with Daz.
My first go on a moped, first bet in a bookies, first watch of porn (thanks Brian), first time i had alcohol poisoning, first toke on a spliff.
You know the usual kind of thing.
Darren was also my first friend to get a proper job. To the amazement to every single teacher, and most of his peers. Daz worked hard, no really he did. For the first time in his life Musson had money. Money meant more parties. Work got in the way of parties. Bad influences circled the man with money. But Musson never did anything he didn't want to.
Including punching his boss in the face - who hasn't imagined living that dream?
From my point of view Darren had a rough few years in Margate after that.
Finding and losing the love of his life. The Christmas morning Regal Gifts caper that went pear-shaped. Having his flat burnt out by a love rival. Going to Crown Court for wrongly being accused of stealing a sausage.
You know the usual kind of thing.
Luckily Darren escaped Margate and moved back to Ramsgate but i think the damage was done.
He was far happier in his hometown. Never happier than hanging around with old and new friends, or just listening to his Metal i-pod of Doom.
I saw a lot more of Musson in the past 5 or 6 years. Sometimes too much.
Like the time he started drilling his forehead with my hammer drill, spilling cider all over my sofa while singing and dancing a pirates sea shanty - funny now it wasn't then. Or telling me about his piles. Or badgering me to be the referee in a contest he was in and the loser had to chop a finger off.
You know the usual kind of thing.
Daz was always polite and generous. He always apologised when he swore. Always had a new clean joke I'd never heard. Always interested how people were
"How's your Mum Sorrel?"
"Still dead Darren"
Musson's short life could be seen as a tragic waste but it shouldn't.
Darren packed an enormous amount of experiences into his life. Thousands of things most of us haven't, or would never want to do.
His laugh and light touched every single one of us here today. All of us have many funny and fantastic Musson memories. You could never forget Darren even if you wanted to. And he'd never forget you.
Ramsgate isn't the same without you Darren.
A star that burns twice as bright only burns for half as long.
Goodbye big guy and if you're watching Darren remember...
(i did our signature biker/tiger feet dance)
BLACK FUCKING METAL.
Well that's all folks.
Is this the end of the Musson Diaries?
Of course not I just need to find my Ouija board.
'Til then peace out mo-fo's.
I got on the Musson Party Express train at St. George's.
Denim and Leather brought us together. That and 80's Heavy Metal, attempted bible burning and underage boozing in the East Kent Arms.
Those school days were full of carefree fun like eating lug worm, spending way too much time in graveyards, going to see Vigilante, getting chased by 100 of the Ramsgate Casual Firm, setting fire to Nadine Hudson's hair in maths.
You know, the usual kind of thing.
Most of my "firsts" were with Daz.
My first go on a moped, first bet in a bookies, first watch of porn (thanks Brian), first time i had alcohol poisoning, first toke on a spliff.
You know the usual kind of thing.
Darren was also my first friend to get a proper job. To the amazement to every single teacher, and most of his peers. Daz worked hard, no really he did. For the first time in his life Musson had money. Money meant more parties. Work got in the way of parties. Bad influences circled the man with money. But Musson never did anything he didn't want to.
Including punching his boss in the face - who hasn't imagined living that dream?
From my point of view Darren had a rough few years in Margate after that.
Finding and losing the love of his life. The Christmas morning Regal Gifts caper that went pear-shaped. Having his flat burnt out by a love rival. Going to Crown Court for wrongly being accused of stealing a sausage.
You know the usual kind of thing.
Luckily Darren escaped Margate and moved back to Ramsgate but i think the damage was done.
He was far happier in his hometown. Never happier than hanging around with old and new friends, or just listening to his Metal i-pod of Doom.
I saw a lot more of Musson in the past 5 or 6 years. Sometimes too much.
Like the time he started drilling his forehead with my hammer drill, spilling cider all over my sofa while singing and dancing a pirates sea shanty - funny now it wasn't then. Or telling me about his piles. Or badgering me to be the referee in a contest he was in and the loser had to chop a finger off.
You know the usual kind of thing.
Daz was always polite and generous. He always apologised when he swore. Always had a new clean joke I'd never heard. Always interested how people were
"How's your Mum Sorrel?"
"Still dead Darren"
Musson's short life could be seen as a tragic waste but it shouldn't.
Darren packed an enormous amount of experiences into his life. Thousands of things most of us haven't, or would never want to do.
His laugh and light touched every single one of us here today. All of us have many funny and fantastic Musson memories. You could never forget Darren even if you wanted to. And he'd never forget you.
Ramsgate isn't the same without you Darren.
A star that burns twice as bright only burns for half as long.
Goodbye big guy and if you're watching Darren remember...
(i did our signature biker/tiger feet dance)
BLACK FUCKING METAL.
Is this the end of the Musson Diaries?
Of course not I just need to find my Ouija board.
'Til then peace out mo-fo's.
1 comment:
Rip. Nice words ade. Regards Rob howbrook
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