Birthday bash.

Friday: another birthday for me. Having felt a bit dodgy for a few days during the week (although mercifully not a repeat of last year), I was back to normal for the evening's festivities. The 8^th had been designated as a Hat Night for some time, so I was happy to subvert it to my own birthday ends again.

HN has traditionally been a chaps only event (frankly, I think we should get all and sundry to come along, but hey: why should hen nights get all the bad press?) so I went for a few quick pints with Kate before the main event kicked off. This was a mistake. Not because of the sparkling chat, nor the pleasingly autumnal setting of the Outhouse's beer garden, but because I was healthily on my way before even the hats were distributed.

My recollection of the evening goes something like this:

Once we were all assembled in the flat and a few rounds of - <blackness> - wait. When did we get to Medina? Why is it 3 am?

Fortunately, there is photographic evidence of the night's entertainment. Until Josh gets round to posting it, though, here is some of what I/we apparently did:

• We played Semtex Master. Not to be confused with Freeze Master or Thumb Master, Semtex Master involves the current Semtex Master shouting "Semtex!" at which point the participants must get under the nearest table. Last one to do so is the new Semtex Master. This earned us some dirty looks in the Phoenix.
  
• I tried to chat up a 19 year old barmaid with the line (repeated ad nauseum, I'm reliably informed): "You should come to our flat and play poker! So we can take your money! Poker! Play poker with us!" Smooth. Also, Jez stood on tables. Both of these things attracted dirty looks in the Blind Poet.
  
• There was a bit of playful combat between Jeff and I. Josh tried to separate us, at which point his brother Sam shouted gleefully "Pile on!" and proceeded to do so. This got us some dirty looks in Doctors.
  

And that brings us pretty much up to date. Good night, I'm told.