Ooh another one
On my 23rd birthday I had a wee and it started to sting. It felt like I was pissing razor blades. I worked out that I'd had unprotected exactly two weeks before!

Doesn't take a genius....
(davefromkent, Tue 13 Dec 2005, 11:09, Reply)

On my 20th birthday
I got thrown out of the student's union by the bouncers. I assumed it was because I was too drunk.

The next day I told me friend this, and he said "Actually, my flatmate works on the door there. The reason you were thrown out is because when he went to check the toilets he found you pissing in the sink".
(davefromkent, Tue 13 Dec 2005, 11:03, Reply)

My birthdays
have always seemed the same, year in year out; just monotonous with nothing ever happening, no different to any day of the year to be honest.
On my 135th birthday, a bloke let his dog piss on me, and i just stood there and did nothing about it.


Then again i am an oak tree.

sighs and drops another acorn
(nappy rash, Tue 13 Dec 2005, 10:53, Reply)

Some good times...
I've been lucky, I can only think of a couple of bad birthdays... The worst one being my final year of uni in the damp bedroom of my student house on my own, just turning 22. My girlfriend ignoring me via all possible methods of contact including morse code and carrier pigeon and my dissertation due in the day after. On my 18th I stayed in and played on the internet/revised for A-Levels and on my 21st we went out in Liverpool, my exgirlfriend who I was still struggling to get over turned up and I had indigestion all night making drinking an impossibility... At a time when I really needed a drink.

Fortunately the better birthdays are more numerous. Starting with my 19th... A first year at uni in Liverpool with all my new friends in the Krazy House on a thursday. 2 for 1 night, midnight rolls around and I found out that it's hard to dance while holding 8 bottles bought for you by said friends.

My 23rd birthday fully made up for my sucky 22nd birthday when what initially started out as a quiet night out with two girls I know turned into a massive knees up with pretty much most of my friends coming along. Much was drank and fun was had. Almost turned sour when someone tried to attack one of the girls outside but I did my superhero bit by dragging the drunken fool off her then refusing to fight him despite his requests. The site of me and 4 six foot plus friends telling him we wouldn't get involved in a fight seemed to impress the police officers who promptly told him to eff off.

Next my 25th birthday and me and a girl I've been seeing decide to officially become a couple meaning I now get birthday presents and anniversary presents on the same day making it an all round loved up happy time for us both.


Ding Dang Doo
( beefandcheese, Tue 13 Dec 2005, 10:43, Reply)

birthdays.....bah!
I was arrested on my 16th birthday and held in custody after a few friends and I had a spell of leaving shops without paying for stuff.

My best birthday was my 31st as everybody just left me alone to celebrate in my own way. With a bottle of something that I didn't have to share!
(downhill without brakes . It was the worst day of my life, Tue 13 Dec 2005, 7:33, Reply)

my 21st
had to get up at 6 in the morning to go take some general knowlege college test that takes about 4 1/2 hours to complete.
(cheecharingo, Tue 13 Dec 2005, 5:33, Reply)

My 13th Birthday
I had a "60's" theme going for my 13th birthday party, and I invited a few friends over early to help decorate and what have you. As we were putting up decorations, I suddenly felt very hot, nauseous, and started having hallucinations. Of course I was used to this by now because I’d been feeling this way for about a week. Mum thought I was faking it up until now just to get out of cleaning the house for my party – but right before the party? I don’t think so. It must be real.

So my friend suggested Advil, and lots of it.

The night pressed on and I coasted on Advil and fell into a deep slumber that night, and woke up in the morning with strange zits all over my neck! And face…and tongue.

Turns out when my brother got chicken pox the week earlier and I thought I was immune, I was actually wrong about that. Happy 13th birthday Self, two weeks of crippling self-loathing, itching and a face not unlike a gargoyle.
(Arctix, Tue 13 Dec 2005, 3:48, Reply)

On my 16th birthday
I sat in Headingley Library doing my GCSE history coursework. Sounds boring! It was fantastic.

I was with a lass who I had been after since I was 12 and she put her hand on my thigh and put her foot between my legs as we tried to work.

I had a semi.
(wonderbrawl was pronounced dead on, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 23:14, Reply)

Well...
..All my birthdays fall on Valentines Day (Febuary the 14th) so i spose it could either be considered a good or bad thing...

Good because i normally get extra special presents from other half and can claim i got more cards that day than anyone else...

Bad because people are normally to busy with their significant others to do anything...

So i spose all birthdays for me are pretty much a mix...
(Aquai, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 21:37, Reply)

Birthday.
It is my Birthday on Wednesday 14th December. Let joy be unconfined as I celebrate my 9497th day of being single. Woo sodding hoo.

Edit: 13th Dec. 1 day to go. Still single. Fucksocks.
(MissKittyKate1, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 21:32, Reply)

Second worst
I think I've got the second worst birthday. November 9th...9/11 as any European kno...

My 30th. I'd hoped to be off work and up to unspeakable shenanigins but to everyone's astonishment my employers won a mighty contract with a Belgian company the week before so me and a couple of gobshites were parcelled off to Antwerp.

The gobshites were called Tom and Chris and had interchangable voices, and they talked about all the technical and boring stuff while I talked about money. Anyway. One of these gobshites discovered that I was being 30 on the last night of our exile in Antwerp and asked our hosts where to take me.

I ended up being coerced into some sort of knocking shop. Now, I like a bit of jiggerypokery as much as the next guy or girl but not when a gang of salivating cretins are hanging on your every move, and not when I'm in a peculiar city, feeling old and missing the then Mrs. Disappointed terribly.

So I went mad. I kicked over a table, shouted curses at the IT clowns, and ran.

This may not make amusing reading,I suppose, but it's retelling in B3TA form is cathartic and I've often wondered how the socially inept IT boys who dragged me there explained themselves to the formidable madam.

Too long? Well that's a first.
( The Disappointed Caravanner of the year, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 21:20, Reply)

My birthdays used to always have a big drawback
Exams. Every sodding year from starting primary school to year 10 mocks.
But this year was amazing. You may have seen a programme or two about stonehenge, and more specifically a new theory of how the stone were moved, using levers (very interesting site at www.stonehengineers.co.uk). And I was helping on a preliminary in Derbyshire on my birthday. Even had my cake on the stone as it was rowed at one point.
I also drove a vintage tram on the same day, but that's another tale.
( Greenbat, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 21:08, Reply)

On my birthday
I had sex...I think.

Hard to remember what it's like.
(Peelmytangerines, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 18:46, Reply)

i am in a wi fi access gay bar
right ... 25th december ... my girlfriend of many years has gone home to her family in the deep south (M4 corridor, not alabama) to say that she may have breast cancer ... we're not yet sure because the NHS process has taken weeks and weeks and the conclusive biopy won't happen until the new year ... we've also had a shitty four months as her dad's been killed in a car crash in the autumn (her more than me of course but being the partner of the bereaved has a crapness all of its own) .... meanwhile i plan to spend xmas with my parents in the north-east of scotland but my mother (addicted to antibiotics and corticosteroids, psychologically at least) decides that she's too 'ill' for xmas and cancels it ... i turn to football as an alternative but it snows and all sports are wiped off the calendar while general stress and winter lurgy gives me something that makes bird flu look like a mild sniffle ...

spend xmas day on my own in edinburgh, discharging unreasonable amounts of iridescent green pulmonary phlegm into a dirty t shirt (bog roll was inadequate for the quantities), eating sainsbury's pasta and playing marathon (a mac shoot-em-up, FYI youngsters) ...

the worst xmas ever

what? birthday? oh fuck off

no she didn't have breast cancer (for which i am eternally grateful) but we split up six months later ...

the best one? ... another story entirely

birthdays? don't talk to me about birthdays



* a man with a moustache just patted my back, but it's ok as i have bad clothes and am drinking foaming cask ale and had sex with girls twice in november ...
( writerblock ... embedding disabled by request on, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 18:24, Reply)

30
My 30th was rather good.

I was able to enjoy the wonders of having my wife and kids give me presents/love etc, plus i had arranged for a load of us to go out on a furious bender.

Best to lay it out bullet style i think. Too much happened.

1pm. Presents from Mum. Weed. Champagne. Ferrari driving eperience.
1.30 pm. Stoned. semi drunk. Mother leaves.
1.33 pm. Few lines of coke. Champagne.
1.50 pm. Pub to meet people. Beer.
2.30 pm. Drunk. Meet old friends. Very good atmos.
3.00 pm. Drink, line, chat etc.
5.00 pm. Sick. Go to another pub with friend to calm down. Gay pub. Smoke cig and do line in bog.
6.00 pm. Another pub.
6.30 - 10 pm. Complete blur of good times.
10 pm. Enter club. Due to handy connections, given relative impunity in club. Able to look up ladies skirts.
11 pm. Crack out the mdma. Dancing alone.
11.12 pm. People join me, inspired by my confidence and rubbish dancing.
12 - 3 am. Dance. MDMA. Bob. JD. Probably.
3.20 am. Leave club. Pick up random strangers. Clingers on. Buy E. Probably shouldn't have. Eat it.
3.35 am. Ejected from mates Hotel.
3.47 am. Unload fire extinguisher in other mates hotel. I marvel as the cutlery, menus and crockery is blown off each table in the breakfst room with my wonderful jet gun.
3.48 am. Mates spy my antics and decide we should leave. Wise.
4 am. We all 'transform' in street. Basically lie down but with the transformer noise.
4.30 am. Arrive at my Mums. She's out. there's a bag of leaves on the front door. Puzzled.
4.40 - 6 am. Wind down with Mary.

Satisfied.
(beebolbod for those that are hard of hearing - LISTEN, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 18:13, Reply)

Stripper at my 16th
For my 16th birthday my parents went away for the weekend, bought me a crate of beer and allowed me to have a party in our house. Even better, my Dad hired me a stripper!

At around 10pm there was a knock at the door and I was summoned to open it. She was dressed as a policewoman and told me that there had been reports of under-age drinking at the party. As I was a naive 16 year old I panicked and denied it even though I had a can of beer in my hand. I was now bricking it and was sure I was off to the slammer. It wasn't until someone else walked in and put a stereo in the floor that I began to think something was not quite right.

The next day at school I was a legend. I had only just moved to the school and it helped my street-cred rocket.

I later found out that my Dad had given my older brother charge of the cash and had given enough for her to get her boobies out. However, he only paid her enough to get down to her underwear and pocketed the rest. Bastard!
(Tom Jones's Mojo Hasn't had any since, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 17:26, Reply)

...
I dislike my birthday with a passion..

Stay in bed under the covers, it's the only way....
(Bobo148, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 15:45, Reply)

Cuh!
Worst? My 21st. What a good idea to take the gf on a trip round SE England in my newly-bought second hand mini. Stopped for lunch at a pub outside Winchester, emerged an hour later to find the car had been burgled and my camera stolen. Homeward bound, the car started lurching, engine cutting out, only just managed to limp home. Spent the evening with gf's father under the bonnet trying to fix unfixable fault. Still, at least I awoke the following morning sober (choke!)

Best? The last one - they just keep getting spiffier!!
(Sirbacker, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 15:30, Reply)

The real reason I'm not fond of football.
My worst birthday had to have been my sixth. I have mine at the end of January, and it's inevitable some years that not only did the family get together on the weekend to celebrate, but the Super Bowl usually fell on that same day. I can't remember who was playing that year, but apparently it was either a close game, or two teams my family were fond of were playing.

All of us were sitting around the table, the game muted and everyone started singing happy birthday. Unfortunately, for me, one of the men was still watching the game and my song went something like "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you...happy birthday dear Ste--omg...run! Run!!! Touchdown!!!" And much congratulating of the winning team. I spent the rest of the day under my Nana's bed and wouldn't come out. Mom was understandably furious.
(thewenchspeaks, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 15:18, Reply)

Sept. 11th
I, like Captain H's ex, have my birthday on Sept. 11th; so 2001 was...different. Wasn't too fussed though - got a PS2. :D
(Beans goes up to eleven, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 13:57, Reply)

I can relate to that humpty dumpty
The same thing happened to me, my sister being just under 2 years older than me (20 months i think)
I used to mention i was catching up to here wnehever she was ebing mean and i was only '1 year younger' than her
( Blobcat Less Jaffacakes this year, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 13:43, Reply)

19th
And it rocked like a motherfucker. After bailing on lectures at approximately 11am we were in the pub and pissed as 10 men by noon thanks largely to shotgunning several bottles of alcopoppy type things that were on special at the union. back to labs at 2, left at 2.40 due to the need to use concentrated sulphuric acid (although absolutely hammered, i really didn't fancy going out on the pull with a face like a melted welly-boot). Back to TFI.
************************************
When the rest of the year besides me and my hardened drinker belgian mate join us we are just about able to speak. Did the TFI challenges. These included eating dog food, baby food, having a ladyfriend on my course simulate fellatio, lick another man's armpit and eat his pubes and play russian roulette with boiled eggs. Mine was raw. So after all that i won 2 bottles of champagne and stumbled off to the club. Despite being held up by a friend and offering a £10 note as identification and being covered in raw egg, which by now had dried to look like congealed snot, they let me in "cossssma birthday! Woo wooo!" yes i did make the train noise complete with horn pulling action. Once inside, clambered onto the stage and did the running man for the entire duration to Love Machine by Girls Aloud before falling off. Later was bought a large inflatable penis, which as a self-respecting b3tan i tucked down my jeans and started boffing the heads of nearby strangers with my giant inflatable comedy phallus.

Best. Birthday. Ever. Was a bit disappointed with my 20th on fri though, as i got so fucked i dont remeber any of it. Ah well.
(Rushy, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 13:42, Reply)

Playing "Catch-Up"
I'm not entirely sure of my age at the time, but I think I might have been leaving the age of 4.

My brother, born on the 9th of January is, technically speaking, just a shade under 2 years older than me, being born the year after but on the 29th of December.

I spent an entire day strutting around, aware of the fact that my brother was six and I had just become 5: It clearly wouldn't be long before I became older than him. My big, wise and old 6 year-old brother realised my infallable logic was correct, and subsequently spent the rest of the day in tears.

I was, without doubt, the happiest little brother alive. :o)
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Mon 12 Dec 2005, 13:39, Reply)

But My Best....
Was this year, Last Friday 'as it 'appens guys and gals..
Got up late, unwrapped loads of pressies, spent the morning playing with my 5 month old son, and then watched "The Time Machine" (50's version) on DVD and had a curry.
Small things please me now...
(LunarJim, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 13:28, Reply)

Also...
.. my last girlfriend before meeting Mrs Haddock was born on September 11th. I felt really sorry for her in 2001, despite having split up with her that year.
(LunarJim, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 13:26, Reply)

The Bitch
I was going out with a Nurse from New Zealand in 1994 and she chose my birthday to finish with me. I think she was also shagging a Doctor at that time. I spent my birthday hoping he would give her something fatal....
(LunarJim, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 13:24, Reply)

Worst birthday, ever.
My 14th, I think. It was only Princess Di's bloody funeral!

Personally, not being much of a Royalist, I wasn't too fussed.

However, everywhere was shut, & all my mates were indoors watching the funeral on TV.

A most dull & boring day was had as a result. Fantastic.
( Sylia Stingray is pilfering the biscuits on, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 12:44, Reply)

More for my benefit than anyone elses
Worst
2002 - spent a dull day at an office job I hated, then went round to my parents and played Scrabble and watched a documentary about office jobs.

Best
2004 - Went to the cricket with a bunch of mates, got drunk, went to the pub, yet more mates showed up (some of whom travelled great distance), danced, drank more.

All I had to do was quit my job!
(Newton Crosby, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 12:11, Reply)

My worse birthday was my 18th...
I envisaged flowing beer that I'd remember nothing about and waking up in a park somewhere. Instead I woke up in bed having gone to watch Coventry City reserves the night before. They lost to Arsenal reserves.
( mike woz ere 7442200 & 7696970 getter, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 12:01, Reply)

My 21st
It was 8am on a Monday in September. I had the day off work, but my boyfriend didn't. We shared a car (it was mine, but I let him drive it), so we had decided that I'd go to his house in the morning to take him to work, then I'd have the car all day. Made perfect sense, until my front left tyre blew, sending me careering into a milkfloat. The front left corner of the car was bent into a point, and would have had the eye out of anyone who'd been sitting there. Luckily, this was before I'd picked the bf up*

My beloved Fiesta was a write off. The milkman went on and finished his round - I hadn't broken a single bottle of milk.

*I thought it was lucky at the time. I eventually married him, just in time for him to turn into a complete bastard. We're not married now.
(krytenk, Mon 12 Dec 2005, 11:16, Reply)