I've been incredibly uninspired over the past month or so, somewhere along the line I set my brain to 'slow down' and it got stuck there. Kind of like when you're flicking through your DSTV and it gets stuck on MTV during a Shakira song. Kind of.
BUT seeing as I've had a rather awesome weekend involving Dane, booze and a party (not necessarily in that order), like all Shakira songs my 'slow down' mode has come to and end. My mode is now set to 'off'. Good thing to, all that thinking had my brain over heating.
Dane's 21st part was a great way to spend a Saturday. Instead of watching Dane throw up over himself in a club, we were able to do it while hitting golf balls into the night sky. Now we all know my ability to recall a night can be called into question so any alterations or corrections anyone has to offer are more than welcome. The evening began a slight bit apprehensively, everyone trying to work just how much booze they could order without being asked to provide money. Once the art of drinking single brandy's with a dash of coke was mastered, the bar was now our bitch. I've found it's best to get the bar figured out as early as possible, leave it too late and you'll only be left wondering how much more alcohol you could have schemed from it's neatly polished fridges.
Drinks in hand, the unanimous decision was made to try our hands at klapping a few golf balls. Some were more successful than others and we now have a clear idea of who has abstu
letely no co-ordane
ation at all. See my clever word play? Ok, well, word play. Three broken clubs, several drunken people and two broken glasses later it was time for the speeches. The speeches were great, highlighting all Dane's magnanimous characteristics, his love for helping people, his loyalty and his deviant behaviour in my kitchen. I hear the collective "Wah? Hmm? Huh?" but unfortunately I'm just not bitter enough to spill the beans so you're going to have to find out the details of this by yourself.
Moving on from speeches the discreetly placed food was discovered. Discreet in the sense that it was completely out in the open just invisble in the haze of my beer goggles, I think it might have been the smell of chicken which lured me there. That, or one too many spins on the dance floor. My apologies to anyone I might have spun, it's a nasty habit and I'm seeking help. At the time chicken on a stick seemed like an ingenious idea, I'm still under that impression. At one stage I think I was in possesion of Pete's camera, it'd be great if he could please get some of those photo's up on the net because I believe at around this stage I manage to capture a wonderful picture which Dane can one day show his kids in the necessary conversation: "The Dangers of Drinking". Well that, or "How to Drink Like a Rockstar!".
Things get a little hazy around here, different people dissapearing at different times. I do know a few of us decided to be 'the core' who sat around until the bar closed, music stopped, lights came on, were politely asked to leave, were not so politely leaved and then were eventually escorted out. Of course I think we were perhaps oblivious to the fact that it wasn't much use being a core when Dane was at that moment at home sleeping a sleep which can only be obtained through the use of alcohol.
I know a few of us headed to Tin Roof after, considering of course that it was only around 12. From what I can remember Tin Roof was mix of drunken dancing, drunken conversations, drunken behaviour and drunken drunkeness. Desperate bids to come right were made, some sucessful, others not but all in all it was a fitting way to end off a really decent night. Well, at least I'm happy how it ended.
Thanks to Dane for the party, Shari for Dane's appearance, Dane's parents for the booze, Pippa and Jenna for the illusion of drunken lesbians in the bathroom, Rob and Stuart for highlighting how a bunch of us can't dance and Meghan for her driving.
Now on to the weekend, I'm stoked.