The Big Three-O

So. I turned 30 and can now officially be described as an old cunt. Naturally this required a hefty dose of alcohol to numb the pain of aging, right?

We started with a practice run in Sydney a couple of weeks early. See, I was going to exit the country before my actual birthday and Deviant wasn't going with me, so in order to get him in on the fun, I needed to have a pre-party.

The usual group of piss-heads gathered in to meet us at our lil love nest, and with the help of copious amounts of alcohol, we went on till the sun came up and I believe I threw the towel in around 7am by crashing on the bedroom floor next to our bed that was taken by a visiting couple.

The following day was not so fun.

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The actual birthday party took place in Tampere, Finland and after the trial run was such a drunken success, the Finnish piss-head mates of mine had a lot of expectations to live up to.

The task was not easy, however these were not just any old drunkards: Hospodar, Kennu and Mira Bell trained in from Helsinki while Jyppi and Junnu drove in from Jyvaskyla and we all met up at Cafe Europa, the same dodgy bar where we used to start up so many yrs ago as teens.

Mira Bell disappeared into the bathroom for a while and came back cranky as all hell whinging something about breaking a clothes stand and a lash curler. Apparently she had been attempting to open the bottle of Sol she brought with her and failed miserably. Not only did she have the beer in her bag, but also a slice of lime packed neatly in glad wrap to go with it.

Bring on the champers, Battery Vodkas and Long Island Ice Teas - the night had begun!

I had been afraid of these dear friends of mine getting older just as I had, but my fears were soon proven wrong:

Kennu was drooling after meat way too young, Hospodar was pouring alcohol down my throat at a very unhealthy pace, Jyppi & Junnu had a backpack full of beer with them and Mira Bell picked up a 22 yo at the end of the night.

Clearly, nothing had changed.

We put immense effort in both quality and quantity that night: we drank everything and in enormous quantities. There was karaoke, titty bars and dodgy joints - a true trip down the memory lane back to those glorious teen nights so many years ago.

The following day was even worse than the one after the Sydney pre-party and the majority of it was spent trembling in bed in fetal position or practicing my Norwegian at the slightest scent of food or alcohol.

The need to improve no longer exists, as I cannot survive a night bigger than this.