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This is a question Birthdays

My best birthday so far was my 30th, when I held a Polish Bear Hunting evening in some woods - everyone dressed up in hunting gear, ate a Polish hunting stew round a big fire and then, armed with torches, ran out to find the foil-wrapped chocolate bears I'd hidden in the trees.

My worst so far was my first at university - my birthday was the first official day of term, so I thought there'd be loads of people there to have fun with. No, Cambridge is so posh nobody actually turns up on the first night. I got very drunk with the barman.

What extremes of birthdays have you had?

(, Fri 9 Dec 2005, 11:07)
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My birtday is on valentines day. Every fucking year since I ahve been born. Why couldnt it be one of those moveable feasts like easter. Inevitably get cards on b'day, usually not valentine cards though boo.

Scenario 1

ivebeenhigh is single, so all his coupled mates are out being romantic with thier other halves, so the only people that celebrate are miserbale single people who are desperate for a shag as its valentines.

Scenario 2

ivebeenhigh is not single, cue gf and the "I know its your birthday but its my day too" line, so i end up having to buy someone else a present on my birthday, make a fuss over her and not see any of my mates.

Everyone always says "oooh a valentines baby" like its some good thing. its not. its shit.
(, Thu 15 Dec 2005, 10:25, Reply)
the best friends ever...
kat and tom said they were going to give me the most kick-ass surprise birthday in the world ever, on my birthday. They hinted darkly about it for many months.

On the big day I waited all day for a mysterious invitation- nothing. In the end I went to Kat's flat. All was dark. Wow! I figured. They must all be in there hiding and laughing.

No one answered the door. In the end I phoned another friend. It transpired that early that morning Tom and Kat had boarded a flight to Toulouse in hot pursuit of a couple of hot French sisters they wanted to mount.

I cried for days.
(, Thu 15 Dec 2005, 10:13, Reply)
Meh 19th
My bestest birthday has to be by far my nineteenth. My fiance took me to see We Will Rock You, which she know I absolutly adore (i'm a stupidly huge queen fan).

Took me back to the hotel for a night of very drunken, kinky sex afterwards. T'was spectacular :D
(, Thu 15 Dec 2005, 3:26, Reply)
Ooh, another one
Again, not mine. My brother turned 22 exactly one week ago, and celebrated in the classic style of hiring a gorilla costume, and doing Tai Chi in the park, then climbing up a tree to drink champagne with his friends. It was all jolly, harmless fun until he was picked up by the police, who didn't trust his story, so got another van-load of policerers to search him. It seems they thought he was either one of those Fathers For Justice, or an animal rights protestor, or possibly some form of general terrorist. Those damned terrorists with their gorilla combat.

(do you get it? a pun, with the word guerilla... I don't think you get it.)
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 19:56, Reply)
Not mine...
and in fact, this might've been a Christmas story. So it really has no place here. Anywhom:

My girlfriend's mother awoke on her 10th birthday, full of hope and glee, wondering what wondrous presents would be bestowed upon her. Her parents had promised her something special, and when she got her hands on the carefully wrapped present, she ripped the wrapping paper off in joyous anticipation, to reveal... a man's briefcase. That's right, just what EVERY 10 year old girl wants as her main present from her parents - a briefcase.
As far as I know, the only time that the briefcase has been surpassed, was the time she spent a few hours giving birth to the girlfriend I mentioned earlier.
Yay for Birthdays!
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 19:49, Reply)
The Ultimate Anti-Climactic 21st
I was born on December 31st 1978, and my birthday has always been anti-climactic (at best) every year of my adult life, what with it being New Years Eve.

You can't get a much more anti-climactic 21st than 31st December 1999!

There are plus points however:
I've never worked on my birthday.
I'll never have to worry about having to go into work with a hangover next day!
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 17:22, Reply)

I haven't had any birthdays, at least, not any that i can remember. maybe that's good. maybe it's very very bad.
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 17:15, Reply)
Okay, so she didn't actually DIE on my birthday....
but my mother did choose my family birthday dinner to announce to us that she had been diagnosed with Cancer. Cue lovely family dinner wanting to come back out onto the table. Her excuse? "Everyone was together in one place" This messed up birthdays for me for several years and cost a pretty penny for the shrink. I now make up for this by making my birthday last at least a month. My birthday is the occasion for everyone to celebrate the joy that is in the world because I was born. Yeah!
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 16:24, Reply)
My 40th Birthday.....
Always get a new wife just before your 40th Birthday. Maybe run her in for a year but not much more than that.....

So, 40 on the Saturday, not looking forward to it at all, as you would expect. Friday lunchtime a few drinks with the chaps, well lunchtime until early AM. Woke up early with hangover and was then dragged out to go and pick up the children (from previous marriage). Took them shopping then went home....nothing good so far you might think, and you would be right. As we got back from shopping there was a surprise family party with all the relatives I hadn't seen for years(and for good reason), silly games, sillier drinking. Still a bit pants you might think, and you'd still be right. "Is this all I have to show for it" I was asking myself, where are me mates? Miserable gits.

So......after settling in for a disappointing time I woke up the following morning to find I was being whisked off to spend five days in a castle in Italy..... fantastic suite of rooms, superb wine cellar.... fabuous food, spent five days of self indulgent loveliness. Got back home now feeling well content. Next morning got up to find stretched limo outside front door ; off we go again with some friends to the Chef's Table at Claridges. Those that have been will understand, those that haven't should go. From the age of some of the people here I would suggest spending all of your student loans on going there and just starve the rest of the year. You will thank me later. So 7 hours in Claridges sampling the best Uncle Gordon has to offer including a fairly cheeky 1923 Armagnac then its back to the hotel early evening to be told "Get your DJ on".......whisked off again to find spousey has organised a black tie party in a penthouse apartment overlooking the Thames and the Houses of Parliament with live music, more food and stupid quantities of champagne... everyone was there and I mean EVERYONE dahrling.... party til the early hours then back to suite at the Hotel, into the jacuzzi with a final bottle of Dom then off to bed......... really enjoyed being 40..... its like being 18 but with money :)

still, roll on my 41st.....
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 15:52, Reply)
I try to spend my birthdays abroad
This year I went to Lisbon and while I was there my agent called and said I'd got a great new job that I'd really wanted. Drank a lot of nice wine, ate amazing food, smoked the local hash and saw quite possibly the biggest Jesus I've ever seen. It was lovely. I've spent several in Holland, too.
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 14:44, Reply)
not really bad
but some have been average and some have been brilliant.

but its my 21st on the 23rd dec so hopefully that will be blinding!

mucho peace out
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 14:25, Reply)
My 40th; my wife arranged a couple of age old friends to fly out (I live in Madrid), spent the day drinking, watching beautiful spanish ladies walking past our table, eating terrific food and playing with my pressies (X-Box AND a surround sound system), spent the night partying and drinking Mojitos. Never forget it.

21st. Alone in halls of residence. Spent the evening drinking a bottle of cheap wine and crying. Never forget it but wish I could.
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 12:07, Reply)
Best and worst at the same time
Birthday in very early March. Mum is killed in diving accident in Caribbean very late in February. Got presents from her on my birthday.

Some shit really sucks.
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 11:26, Reply)
bad timing
haven't had a good birthday (yet) but one of the worst was when i was 12.
my younger sister's birthday is the day after mine, so ma and pa, ever the economical parents, always decide to combine the celebrations.
cue me standing at a table with a whole lot of 7 year olds pretending i like little cakes with jelly beans on them (i do actually).
it wouldn't have been so bad until my cousins and friends from school arrived unbeknown to me and witnessed me and my 'mates' having a birthday party.
have been called a paedo ever since (but they can't prove it).
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 10:53, Reply)
My best birthday was probably in 2002. I spent the night before getting mashed up in Sydney, then, on my birthday, caught a plane to Boston to see my then very new girlfriend for the summer.

My worst was probably my 6th. I had a party at McDonald’s. My mum had always told me not to lock the toilet door when I was a young boy. (We had a key lock in our bathroom – I guess she was worried that I’d lock myself in and drown or something).

Anyway, I got an attack of the runs during my party, and had to go for a McShit. Whoever had been in before me had somehow managed to jam the cold tap on, so the basin was full, and cold water was running onto the floor. The cubicle doors were on a swing hinge, so they would open unless they were locked.

All I can remember from my 6th birthday is bawling my eyes out in a fast food ‘restaurant’ toilet, with my pants and shorts round my ankles, thinking I was going to drown whilst some poor 16 year-old was mopping the floor, trying not to watch me move my explosive bowels.

I’m sure the experience was as bad for him as it was for me.
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 10:39, Reply)
The best or the worst? Hard to tell.
This year I got a tire. It was wrapped in a pink ribbon. Now this wasn't a wussy little volvo tire, this was like, drag-racing SUPER MONSTER TRUCK SMASH size tire. The girl who gave it to me walked in late with two hefty guys in tow, carrying it.

About halfway through my brithday I was hog-tied to said tire with the aforementioned pink ribbon, and then it fell over. Alas, my dad didn't let me take it home - I think the exact words were "I'm not letting that thing in my fucking car!"
(, Wed 14 Dec 2005, 10:04, Reply)

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