Monday, December 05, 2005
1. Blacking out -- Check
2. Finding a shot glass in my pants when I got home (in fact 2) -- Check
3. Booting -- negative ghostrider
Well 2 out of 3 ain't bad.
Many people fear the 21st birthday, but in reality, the true danger is the 30th. You see, several forces (ie increased discretionary income among your friends, your own decrease in tolerance ect ect ect) combine like Voltron and generally work against your favor.
Plus there must be some kind of unwritten rule that no two people can buy you the same drink. I basically had the Whitman's sampler of booze. The night started out gently enough with an oatmeal cookie (that's a shot not an actual cookie) courtesey of D. Magical.
Things quickly progressed and before I knew it, I received my first cement mixer. Not too bad when it starts out, but after 10 seconds of shaking, things start to get ugly. After about 30 seconds, it's like having a mouth full of battlecat's litter.
As time passed, my memories started to have a strobe-light effect. Yeah, you know what I am talking about. Dave Attell call's it time travel.
In one of my lucid bouts, I ran into some unexpected friends from high school and elementary school which was a nice surprise. It pretty much completed my collection of friends from different eras.
Soon after I was hand another shot (big surprise). It was red and fruity. Was it the fabled woo woo? I don't know. Did it contain a ruffie? Probably. Was it a catalyst to frank the tank? Yes. bang bang bang bang load it up again!
I think a game of edward 40 hands was tentatively scheduled for the second week of January. The game will be held in the woods, far away from sharp objects.
In all, it was a great night. Probably the best birthday ever. Much better than the bowling alley party I had when I was six.