Saturday night: I got ready and prepped to go to my cousin's 18th birthday do with some other cousins she was inviting (all of legal drinking age - my brother was sad because he couldn't go).
The guys before we set out. That's my cousin's boyfriend Alan on the left, me in the middle and my cousin Khoi on the right.
We went to the Archer hotel, where we couldn't find the birthday girl at first, looking all around but finding her nowhere. Michelle (Khoi's older sister; Alan's girlfriend) called her, and she insisted she was there. It turns out she was right at the entrance with her friends.
Family shot - The girl in the white shirt is Anh, the birthday girl, and the girl she's sitting on is Michelle
The guys at the pub
Nicely enough, she was having a tab special that night - $300 tab, which we of course took advantage of. Two Jager Bombs, a vodka sunrise and a Cowboy shot later, I was totally pissed - all drunk within about an hour of each other.
I'd never had a Jager Bomb before, so the first one I stuffed up - I poured the Jagermeister into the Red Bull instead of dropping the shot in. Same effect, I'm told, but you get less alcohol in you.
We had a group Jager Bomb drink - great fun!
Us before the group Jager Bomb - note Anh jumping the gun
Post Jager Bomb - note Alan's expression; it's like he had something bitter
I got to meet some of her other friends. Mostly people from high school. I swear, quite a few of those girls were drunk as well. I saw Anh's boyfriend there as well, though it looked like he was hiding in a corner wanting some attention from the birthday girl herself.
I managed to get some really ncie photos here ...
Michelle, Anh, and somehow, I managed to get the side of Alan's face. I'm sure he'll laugh when he sees how this one turned out.
Pimp shot! The girl on on my right is Anh's friend. I don't know how to spell her name, it sounded like Took or something.
After some fun, we went off to get an AB from a nearby fish and chip shop - lamb and chips covered in tomato sauce. Greasy, oily takeaway at its finest. I'm told the AB stands for Abortion (Khoi had this particularly colourful story about how they perform a Caesarian on the mother sheep to remove the lamb foetus before they kill it and make the meat for the AB), although other names include After-Beer and After-Booze. Apparently the food oils in this help settle the stomach and the alcohol that you consume.
Then back to the Archer for some more fun!
Later on that night, I met up with my friends at Soul Bar down in Chinatown. Despite what Khoi had said earlier about Soul Bar being dead, it was really packed. I met up with my friends (including those who used to do biotech but now switched to commerce - man, I hadn't seen em for a long time).
Some of my friends from uni: Dennis on the left, JC in the middle, and Thanh on the right.
It was the first time I'd been to Soul Bar. A LOT of Asians there, compared to the Archer, which had a lot of white people there. It was a lot darker in there than the Archer. I met one of JC's friends, this nice girl named Jamie. Sadly though, I didn't get to hook up with anyone like I was hoping. I wouldn't let that stop me having a fun night though. I got out on the dance floor, in the press of people, and had a lot of fun, though I think I might have pissed off my friend Charles a bit by constantly hitting him with my flailing arms while I was dancing.
I ended up getting home at 2:30am.
Sunday wasn't as fun as Saturday was, but I still had fun. After we finished work, my dad and I went up to his accountant's for two reasons: one, to pick him up and take him back to our place to go out to Chinatown to eat, and two, to borrow his (the accountant's) car.
The car - a late '80's Honda Prelude, I think. Sadly it was an automatic.
It wouldn't start at first, because the accountant didn't have a license at the moment, so it hadn't been driven around much recently, meaning the battery was flat. We had to go down to a servo nearby to buy jumper cables, and charge the engine with juice from my dad's Pajero.
The car is certainly interesting ... and a different type of driving compared to what I'm used to driving - my dad's Pajero. For a start, the steering is a bit more sensitive, the car has a lot more power under it (something I exulted in when I sped down Torrens road, whooping as the speedo reached 69 km/h in about ten seconds - I exaggerate, but you get the idea).
Now here's to hoping the rest of my holidays will be as fun.
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