Small weekend

I was doing my usual 6pm til midnight shift at work on Saturday, when at 11.50 or so a buttload of old uni friends burst, tipsy as lords, into the shop. I hadnt seen Daz, Nic, Tom, Kate or Rob in freaking ages so it was rad to fuck around with them for a bit, close the shop and hit the pub.
Jen was there too, and she'd been drinking for about 4 hours by that stage. She is great value once she's got a few under her belt. She somehow aquires a faux irish accent and starts quoting 'The Office', 'Black Books' and 'Shaun of the Dead', while telling me how much of a pussy I am for not having several shots of chartreuse.
At Sodens, I knocked back my beer, half Jens beer, half Toms beer, and all of Toms bourbon in pretty quick order. I ordered a squashed frog shot for all of us, which, due to the bartenders inexperience, was pretty much a curdled mess. And then Kate, with complete disregard for my health, ordered me a tequila shot. Without the fucking lemon or salt! What is that I ask you? Tequila is nasty enough without dulling the taste with salt and lemon! It was alchoholic though, so I quaffed it, man style (with a lot of pissing, moaning and pained facial expressions), and followed it with another beer. By this time I was getting pretty damned pissy, and Jen and I were babbling on to Tom (we used to share a house with him) about how we should get up to Canberra and see him, and about everything in general. Jen got the bright idea to get us a shot called a "Sperm Bank". I've Googled it... but i'm quietly confident that it's just som bullshit shot that the bartender made up and then fed to us! It was vodkar, something, and frothed fucking milk! And it tasted like a small cup of death.
A short time after that, we all parted ways and staggered home.
Great night!
-j