There was an abandoned house in the woods that we just called the House. It wasn't really in the woods, actually... It was right on the outskirts of town, in a grove surrounded by highroads so it wasn't really possible to see it was there.
Then there was this big house, we called it Sorg's(from one of the tennants, he actually changed his first name to Sorg, which means sorrow), where there was one apartment for each of the four stories, and the middle floor had an apartment with four tennants. There were parties there every single weekend, and all the tennants listened to metal in some form, and it was something like the centre of the local metal scene when I was younger. There was a balcony with a ladder up onto the roof, so on summer nights a few of us would sit and drink around the chimney pipe. The day after I would spend on the top-floor with Emil, and we would listen to swedish RAC, watch gore flicks and drink rum. I think the place was actually under surveilance from the cops for a while... They suspected gang activity, and interrogated a friend of mine. We laughed at it then, but in a way I guess we were a gang of sorts: A gang of young, angry drunkards.
There was one time, I was attacked by a gang of jocks outside on my way in after buying pizza: They didn't know that there was party full of drunken friends of mine just a ten-second walk from them. A friend of mine saw them strike me down from the window and called for red alert: The jocks must have pissed themselves when fifty metalheads suddenly appeared and kicked their asses. The guy who struck me down had to go to the hospital to get himself stitched up and to get broken glass removed from his scalp.
"The best drink of the day, was the drink he had in his head before the first drink of the day."