At Least I Didn't Sleep In A Park

Another weekend, another drunken mess. I'm actually starting to get a bit concerned that my partying ways have been far too excessive lately, but as long as I'm having fun I don't really see any reason to stop. I'm sure that policy has never backfired on anyone.

Quick recap though -- Friday was a coworker's house party -- they have a huge house, one of the flatmates is a really good DJ, and I was already completely trollied by the time I arrived. I actually wouldn't be able to tell anyone much about the night, but fortunately many pictures were taken, and I'm in around 70% of them. I wish I could guess what time I headed home, but I have no idea. All I know is that apparently a couple of bands that were playing at the Enmore next door came by after their concert, but the general consensus is that I'd probably stumbled home by then.

Saturday I met some friends at the Surry Hills Festival nearby, and then grabbed Brownie so we could head to Busty's "Single and Fabulous" party in Manly to celebrate her new singledom, or "life without a git in it" as she put it in the party invite. Cut to 4am, post much vodka, beer and tequila shots, where I may have been ranting and raving at innocents who just happened to be standing in the taxi rank with us. One girl made the grave error of telling me that she was Canadian to which I may have responded "You should just go back to Canadia! You're just lucky we haven't come in there and cut down all your trees!!!" So yeah, that's one neighborhood I won't be visiting again for a while.

My only redemption (sort of) from that evening is that I ended up better than Brett, who failed to make it back to his Navy base and ended up sleeping in a park for reasons that are still unknown to any of us. He wins.