PINATA COLADA

Of birthday celebrations and all things nice.

This was my weekend.

Well, almost...

Let's go back to Thursday. Special birthday dinner with The Demonic Sibling and the Brother In Awe. They had made my favourite. Calamari for starters and steak for mains. These are my favourites generally because at any given restaurant they represent the best choices on any menu. I do love lasagne, though. Washed all this awesome food with a bottle of Raka Biography Shiraz, which is truly spectacular, and the rest is a vast-amounts-of-Grolsch haze. Thank, Tarty for getting my scandalous ass home in one piece.

Friday morning was less than pleasant.

Friday night started off like many a Friday night. By me getting home after a long week's slog in the office and tucking straight into the libations. In teenage American parlance this is known as pregaming. So along came Tarty and Lars-but-not-Least in the Zopmobile and off the three intrepid partygoers went. Mercury was hosting the annual get together of the Hogs and the Rudimentals. Opening for them were my old friends The Summer Underground. Happy days. So...

Lots of people, lots of booze, lots of noise, lots of kak talking, lots of Tarty being the life of the Party, lots of saying to hi to people that expect you to know who the fuck they are... Did I mention lots of booze. It was after all the first night of my birthday weekend...

For some or other reason I, in my drink addled state, decided very spur of the moment I'd had enough and very skillfully ninja bombed. Don't remember allegedly hugging JDP on the way out, don't remember leaving, don't remember taking a taxi home, or even getting home for that matter. Fun times...

Saturday was ANOTHER birthday party. This one was way cool though. This one had a PINATA. An adult pinata. It had little bottles of booze in it. (Quickly renamed Pinata Coladas.) It had lotto tickets and chocolates. I have never partaken in a pinata whacking ceremony before, so obviously I took over completely and led proceedings. When it was eventually my turn, I did manage to whack the crap out of the little black and white donkey (not zebra, apparently)...

There was also a massive inflatable boxing ring in the garage. With oversized boxing gloves. I love that we can afford toys...

What I didn't love was being unceremoniously deposited on my arse over the "top rope" - jumping castles are strenuous enough without a mate of yours hell bent on panelling you into submission.

Sunday was spent renewing cellphone contracts and purchasing a dishwasher. Hallelujah! I lost mine in the divorce 9 months ago. It's been a while. I can't wait to get home and switch her on and listen to the soft soothing "whirrr" of her doing her thing. Maybe one day, when I'm a real boy, I can write that about a real girl...

Anyway, this weekend is going to be my birthday party. No gimmicks. No clever decoration. No paramedics. No holds barred. No excuses. If I live through this one, I hope to be able to report on it.

Tomorrow night marks the long awaited and exalted return of the Mighty LMG Pub Quiz Night! Can I have another HALLELUJAH!!!!!

Spread The Love. Like Miracle Whip On White Bread...