Tig Napier Holiday Inn drink-fuelled orgy shocker

Yesterday there was a surprise birthday party for Tig Napier's 50th birthday, thrown by his long-suffering wife and carer, Cath. It was a really good bash, lots of good friends, a top scran and a DJ with a clue about decent Rock music. What more do you need?
How about a cake? This one was a minter, although I did want to remove the icing red light from Tig's lane and replace it with a cherry tomato, but I thought that'd be a bit mean, especially as it's his party.

Cath and I did try to prop Tig's car up into a wheelie using a cocktail stick, but the cocktail stick just sunk into the icing. Shame - Tig hits 50 and suddenly he can't keep it up...
This was one of those pictures that was supposed to be as mystical as the Turin Shroud, because it looked as if Steve Neimantas had a halo. I thought that if this was what the second coming looked like, then the Jews must be pissing themselves. And if God has the Archangel Michael at his right hand, then  the new messiah has the Archangel Moose, which would come in handy for smiting the unrighteous. Or anyone else for that matter. In the end, it just looked like Steve was really rather ill...

Get thee behind me, Satan, and eeeeeh, let's have a Conga!
Anyway, most of the photos I took came out dreadful which, while quite fitting for a HRG tribute, were the result of photographer ineptitude and camera intractability rather than poor photocopier reproduction. Here's another that actually came out in focus with the correct exposure.

Name that dynasty!
Anyway, the whole point of the evening was celebrating Tig's 50th, and celebrate everyone did. I owe Cath and Tig a lot - when I first started going to York drag strip and joining in with the NSCC crowd (some 14 or so years ago, now), Cath and Tig were the welcome wagon. They were the people who were always cheerful, always ready to help. When you were sleeping in your car after a skinful the night before, they were the ones who provided a wake-up call by firing Tig's Challenger up on open headers some five feet away from your sleeping head. And then they'd hand you a brew and a sausage sandwich (NOT a euphemism). They were the people that made me realise just what a lovely bunch of people drag racers were, and I've shared a whole lotta laughs with them. Thanks, guys.
And HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TIG!

He's the one on the right, incidentally...