My B-B-B-Birthday...

Turning 23 isn't exactly a milestone. It's just another year in the damned twenties, much like every other until OH MY GOD I'M 30!
Despite the fact I had to work, at two different jobs, on my birthday, I still had a freakin' awesome time.
My boss was pretty understanding on the Saturday night and let me off after a meagre two hours serving old people light beer. I mean, why even bother with light beer? I thought old people had to go the toilet enough without that shit running straight through them!
I went home, showered, and got into my snazzy new birthday jeans and headed to the party house (Campbell Court is the definitive party house). I got out of the car and heard someone say out of the darkness "Jase is here!" and Normie, Benny and Steve barrelled down the driveway and crash tackled me into the grass in my new jeans. George and Shivers might have jumped in when it came to the stacks on, getting more grass stains on my new jeans. And had I been able to breath, I would have been laughing and not really caring about those damn jeans.
I talked to a few people, and a very drunk and enthusiastic Jen who forced 5 consecutive jelly shots down my throat, before hitting the keg.
The keg was actually spitting out a lot of foam as well as a bit of beer, so people were generally just saving time and dipping their cups into a bucket under the tap. Until Brad dipped his stein in and came out with a litre of beer and a sausage someone had left in there. People stuck to the tap after that.
After beer, there was rum. After rum, we decided to all head out. This is what brought about my downfall, in point form for stupidity:

• Already drunk. Do a tequila shot with Jen.
• Jens boyfriend lines up 5 assorted shots and demands I "Finish it up, Rook!"
• First 2 go down rough.
• Gag on the last 3.
• Was it down with a beer.
• Tequila shot with Chris.
• I know by this time that I have 20 minutes before I quite possibly poo myself and fall asleep on a pool table.

From the evidence that was smeared into my cheek, pillow, wall and floor in the morning, I must have stumbled home and falled asleep on my back with my shoes still on. At some stage during the night, i turned to the left and projectile hurled into the wall, and fell asleep again.
The wall in question has a peculiar texture. Some sort of daubed paint effect thats selling point was, im sure, was "Vomit sticks to it like magic". Thus I was a gaggin' and a scrubbing the next night, trying to pick the specks of vom off my wall. Just precious.

All in all though, even though I went too hard too soon with the drinkin', it was a great night.
I hope you know just how much I appreciate it, Jen. You're a fantastic friend.

And you bought me 'Scrubs'. So good!

-j