Read Online Ooh! What a Lovely Pair Our Story by Ant McPartlin, Declan Donnelly - Free Book Online
Authors: Ant McPartlin, Declan Donnelly
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everywhere by car. If I could’ve driven from the living room to the toilet in that car, I would have. When my mam needed a pint of milk from the shop at the end of the road, I’d have the keys in the ignition before she could say ‘semi-skimmed’.
I wasn’t quite so good as Dec with my wages. I didn’t have the foresight and business acumen to invest in an MG Metro Turbo – and even if I had, I didn’t have a driving licence, so it wouldn’t have been much use.
At first, when I started earning money, I was too young to have a cash card. My mam didn’t think it was a good idea to keep my wages in a shoebox under my bed – she was clever like that – so she gave me her card for an account she never used. The good thing was I could get my hands on my money whenever I liked, so I’d just take out £30, £40 or £50 at a time and buy trainers, clothes, CDs, petrol for Dec’s car, that kind of thing. In those days, you could get a pair of trainers, a couple of albums and a McDonald’s for… well, about £100. It’s pretty much the same as now really.
I’m not that old, you know…
The trouble was I never really paid attention to how much money was in that account. I wasn’t ridiculously frivolous, but I wasn’t shy of spending it either.
The other trouble was that all the statements got sent to my mam and, eventually, my spending caught up with me. One morning, my mam burst into my room, with a statement in her hand, and it wasn’t long before there was a statement coming out of her mouth.
If my memory serves me correctly, it was ‘Where the bloody hell has all your money gone?’
I had exactly £50 left out of what had been a couple of thousand pounds I’d earned over the years. I was the Nick Leeson of Byker Grove.
I learnt a very valuable lesson that day, a lesson any younger readers would do well to heed – make sure your money goes into your bank account, and not your mam’s.
Shouldn’t that be ‘Be responsible and don’t squander your money’?
Oh yeah, that as well, yeah.
All in all, I learnt a lot from that spending and, in a way, I was glad it happened.
I wasn’t – I had to lend him £100 for Christmas presents.
That’s what being a teenager is all about, isn’t it? Wasting your money, hanging around with your mates and, of course, drinking.
My first real experience of drinking came at a family party when I was sixteen. It was a christening, and it was a very special day. I was so thrilled by a new addition to the family, so overjoyed at the gift of life, that I decided to celebrate… by drinking loads of lager.
The problem was we had a lot of filming to do the next day, but that didn’t stop me putting away three pints – yes, three whole pints. Drinking that amount at sixteen was no mean feat, especially given the added obstacle that no man actually enjoys the taste of beer when they first drink it. Despite that, I soldiered on – I’ve always been good with stuff like that.
What, drinking?
Yes.
I arrived at work the next day and to say I felt sick, dizzy, sweaty and disorientated would be the understatement of the century. Your first hangover is like your first love – you never forget it.
I tried to struggle through at work but, in the end, the producers sent me home – with suspected alcohol poisoning.
It seemed like a fancy name for a hangover, but I didn’t care, I got to go home and sleep it off, and that was all that mattered.
When I heard the words ‘alcohol poisoning’, right there and then I knew one thing – me and Dec were going to be friends for life…
We started spending more and more time together, and now that we were older, we started going out to concerts or, as you’re contractually obliged to call them as a teenager, gigs. Our first one was the Inspiral Carpets at Newcastle Mayfair, and it was absolutely brilliant. The first hurdle of the night was always getting past the bouncers – being in a children’s drama meant
I wasn’t quite so good as Dec with my wages. I didn’t have the foresight and business acumen to invest in an MG Metro Turbo – and even if I had, I didn’t have a driving licence, so it wouldn’t have been much use.
At first, when I started earning money, I was too young to have a cash card. My mam didn’t think it was a good idea to keep my wages in a shoebox under my bed – she was clever like that – so she gave me her card for an account she never used. The good thing was I could get my hands on my money whenever I liked, so I’d just take out £30, £40 or £50 at a time and buy trainers, clothes, CDs, petrol for Dec’s car, that kind of thing. In those days, you could get a pair of trainers, a couple of albums and a McDonald’s for… well, about £100. It’s pretty much the same as now really.
I’m not that old, you know…
The trouble was I never really paid attention to how much money was in that account. I wasn’t ridiculously frivolous, but I wasn’t shy of spending it either.
The other trouble was that all the statements got sent to my mam and, eventually, my spending caught up with me. One morning, my mam burst into my room, with a statement in her hand, and it wasn’t long before there was a statement coming out of her mouth.
If my memory serves me correctly, it was ‘Where the bloody hell has all your money gone?’
I had exactly £50 left out of what had been a couple of thousand pounds I’d earned over the years. I was the Nick Leeson of Byker Grove.
I learnt a very valuable lesson that day, a lesson any younger readers would do well to heed – make sure your money goes into your bank account, and not your mam’s.
Shouldn’t that be ‘Be responsible and don’t squander your money’?
Oh yeah, that as well, yeah.
All in all, I learnt a lot from that spending and, in a way, I was glad it happened.
I wasn’t – I had to lend him £100 for Christmas presents.
That’s what being a teenager is all about, isn’t it? Wasting your money, hanging around with your mates and, of course, drinking.
My first real experience of drinking came at a family party when I was sixteen. It was a christening, and it was a very special day. I was so thrilled by a new addition to the family, so overjoyed at the gift of life, that I decided to celebrate… by drinking loads of lager.
The problem was we had a lot of filming to do the next day, but that didn’t stop me putting away three pints – yes, three whole pints. Drinking that amount at sixteen was no mean feat, especially given the added obstacle that no man actually enjoys the taste of beer when they first drink it. Despite that, I soldiered on – I’ve always been good with stuff like that.
What, drinking?
Yes.
I arrived at work the next day and to say I felt sick, dizzy, sweaty and disorientated would be the understatement of the century. Your first hangover is like your first love – you never forget it.
I tried to struggle through at work but, in the end, the producers sent me home – with suspected alcohol poisoning.
It seemed like a fancy name for a hangover, but I didn’t care, I got to go home and sleep it off, and that was all that mattered.
When I heard the words ‘alcohol poisoning’, right there and then I knew one thing – me and Dec were going to be friends for life…
We started spending more and more time together, and now that we were older, we started going out to concerts or, as you’re contractually obliged to call them as a teenager, gigs. Our first one was the Inspiral Carpets at Newcastle Mayfair, and it was absolutely brilliant. The first hurdle of the night was always getting past the bouncers – being in a children’s drama meant
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