Jupiter.  It's a brew-pub over in Berkeley.

And I miss you too Ms. SexyCole,

I was a little pissed and rather high last night and seeing as I was staying at a friends place I didn't have access to my laptop but I love it when everyone gets so wrecked that they come out with class lines such as 'I'll do anything for £7 an hour' or 'I have a Clint Eastwood fetish'.

Oh man that makes two of us.

Wow. I actually have reason to put in this thread right now.

And the sad part? I just drank with my parents.

Monkey just got back from the Penis Party.

The Penis Party is the antidote to the Wild Women's Weekend. Essentially the WWW consists of forty or so chicas I know hauling ass to a cabin on a lake and ensconscing themselves for the weekend drinking, making food, eating chocolates, and being badass girls on a tear, ranging from 66 year old grandmothers to 19 year olds just finishing massage school.

The Penis Party is proof that we need not have women around to bust ass. So. We got giant bottles of whiskey and mixers, tapped two kegs, and threw a balls-only party in the backyard just north of the airport in Seattle.

Now, the only problem is, we also are Burners. Which means we've got alcohol and power tools. And periodically Sobe kept walking around saying, "Fuck, man, nobody brought weed? The fuck! What the fuck kind of fuckass penis party is this?" Nobody pointed out Sobe is the only one who smokes weed, and when he does, he gets a raging hardon. So the one person who DID bring weed hid it, and hid it well.

So we had power tool races. Actually, we also put vibrators on a board, set the sander to high, and bet on which ones ended to the base of the board first.

This alone is not an issue. Now, add to this power tools and flammable liquids. Again, not so terrible.

It was when we lit the vibrators and power tools on fire and raced them that things got dicey.

I don't have a photograph of it, but we lit the burn barrel (55 gallons of wood-fueled inferno) with two gallons of gasoline. We then blew up 2-liters filled with white gas in the burn barrel, and got the cops called on us twice.

And then after the cops came we decided to chill out and blow up the seven inflatible sheep. Then fill THOSE with nitrous oxide. THEN someone decided hurling one of the nitrous-filled sheep into the fire was a good idea. *WHUMP*

When the cops left for the third time, it was decided that we needed strippers to distract us from flammable liquids and fire. So we hired two strippers from a friend's party by screaming, "COME OVER! WE PAY MORE IN BOOZE!" into the phone. (the strippers were not employed, just bored.) Once they got there, we demanded that they play with the flammable liquid. "Don't you want us to strip?" 'No, not really. But set shit on fire, that's awesome.'

I just got dropped off by a cabbie. I am trashed, exhausted, and smelling of singed hair and gasoline.

It is an awesome night in Seattle.

*edited to note I am hucking fammered now*

I'm drunk. Oh boy am I drunk. I've also found out that I hate people when I'm drunk. Not all people, just specific people. I think I'd rather kill myself than do what I did tonight again. That said, I'm going to bed and I really don't care if I wake up tomorrow. That's how bad my head hurts, and my heart hurts, and i hurt all over.

Nighty night. Or morning. As it's 4am here.

'Cause Gin tastes like liquified cat litter?

Is Jager the syrupy thing some people drop into one of those vile concoctions... Red Bull, or V... the one that smells like vomit... and then drink?

Yes, it supposedly has deer's blood in it.  Or the original formula used to, probably an urban myth but I wanted to squick you out .  I think it taste's godawful.  But then again I love gin.

I found a nearly full bottle of jager under my seat at a movie theater once... but I couldn't be sure it wasn't piss, nor that the previous owner of the bottle didn't have mouth herpes or a bottle-fucking fetish, so I disposed of it.

Sadly, however, I continue to not be drunk.  Someone should help me remedy this.