Monday, March 01, 2004
I always always enjoy my own parties, but this 27th birthday was truly my best ever. As ever the alcohol flowed somewhat too freely in my case. I was fall-down staggering drunk from about 10pm onwards: high on life, but also high on Moet and Moscow Mules. Luckily the bar staff poured such strong cocktails that I was far from alone in my inebriation.
In the spirit of Oscar night, I want to thank all my lovely guests; firstly for making a huge effort with costumes, and secondly for not getting too angry when I tumbled into them and spilled their drinks. The DJs all "dropped the bomb" as Westwood would put it, and one even found some groupie lovin'. My own turn on the wheels of steel was confined to the 8 till 9 slot, luckily avoiding the embarrassment of last year's record throwing, deck smashing DJ catastrophe. The record with the biggest response was clearly 50 Pence-In the Pub, though some peeps thought it was me emceeing.
There was no formal costume contest, but Phil Penn and Tartley made a splash leading a sett of badgers. Tom Mac was a fantastic bee, and Patrick Dickinson won best "lateral thinker" dressed in cricket whites. My own penguin outfit somehow fell by the wayside. (If anyone found a complete morning suit...)
The whole night degenerated into a pole dancing, stage diving, shot downing blur. I have to admit to total memory loss from the moment I signed my bar bill. Hopefully someone took some photos which will appear here in due course. I don't think 27 ever felt so good.
In the spirit of Oscar night, I want to thank all my lovely guests; firstly for making a huge effort with costumes, and secondly for not getting too angry when I tumbled into them and spilled their drinks. The DJs all "dropped the bomb" as Westwood would put it, and one even found some groupie lovin'. My own turn on the wheels of steel was confined to the 8 till 9 slot, luckily avoiding the embarrassment of last year's record throwing, deck smashing DJ catastrophe. The record with the biggest response was clearly 50 Pence-In the Pub, though some peeps thought it was me emceeing.
There was no formal costume contest, but Phil Penn and Tartley made a splash leading a sett of badgers. Tom Mac was a fantastic bee, and Patrick Dickinson won best "lateral thinker" dressed in cricket whites. My own penguin outfit somehow fell by the wayside. (If anyone found a complete morning suit...)
The whole night degenerated into a pole dancing, stage diving, shot downing blur. I have to admit to total memory loss from the moment I signed my bar bill. Hopefully someone took some photos which will appear here in due course. I don't think 27 ever felt so good.
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