I turned 30 on my honeymoon with my wife in Lillehammer in Norway
Why it had to be lillehammer is complex and doesn't really add to the story, so I'll leave it tantalizingly unresolved. But we found ourselves as the only guests in a huge hotel with all the charm of a currys distribution warehouse. My wife asked me what I wanted to do and I said I wanted to go skiing, even though we were tired from travelling. It was snowing heavily when we went to hitch to the local ski hill, about half and hour away. We got a ride with a guy and kind of fell asleep in the back. I think maybe an hour had gone past when I questioned the guy how long to go. He said three more hours. It turns out he was going to a different ski hill somewhere in the north. Fuck it, we thought, lets go there. After skiing we started asking every car in the carpark as they were leaving if they were going to lillehammer. The second last car was, two snowboarders, and they had beer and pot in their little hatchback. I said in my stoned babble that I'd like to see the olympic ski jump, so instead of taking us to the hotel they dropped us on the plateau above the town near the top of the jump. the night was clear, the stars were blazing, and everything was covered in a blanket of snow. We shared the rest of the joint with our arms around each other for warmth, and looked down on the matchbox town below. Turning thirty and only four days married didn't seem so bad. Then I went to a bin and ripped out the heavy duty garbage bag.
We sat on it together bobsleigh style, and rode on our arses at speed down a trail that snaked down next to the jump, spraying a fountain of snow as I attempted to manage our velocity with my feet. (I wasn't going down that jump, you can fuck right off. Have you ever stood at the top of one and looked down?)
It took us right into town (which wasn't big) and we pulled up next to the one bar that was still open. Before we staggered to sleep I raided the hotels basement kitchen and found a whole smoked salmon in the fridge. Anyway, I've had worse birthdays.
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Mon 29 Sep 2014, 11:57, 9 replies)

The dangers of musical theatre
My school spent a lot of money on its drama department, and was rather proud of the fact. Possibly the only thing on which it spent more was sports, as befits any rabidly sports-obsessed establishment for the children of the upwardly mobile middle classes. It also so happened that it was the drama department's hundredth birthday when I was in the Lower Sixth. Something big clearly had to be done. We'd put on a four-night run of 'Oliver' the year before, and 'Oh What A Lovely War' the year before that, so in the spirit of doing something that was similar to what we'd done before but was also different, the decision was made to stage 'Annie Get Your Gun' for the big 100. Scores were ordered, rehearsals were arranged, costumes were sewn and sets were built. The teachers even went into overdrive with the choreography and had the soloists weave in and out of the decor from back to front of stage and back again.

The production was a big success, and we found out just how big the following week: unbeknownst to us, the headmaster of a school in Birmingham had been in the audience, having been invited by our headmaster at the previous headmasters' conference, and was so impressed that he decided to invite us to perform at his school. Not only that, he was going to PAY us to go to Birmingham and perform. Such a heady taste of stardom could clearly not be passed up, and encouraging noises about inviting their drama department down to perform for us next year were made (along with a lot of budget-related head-scratching).

The cheque arrived in the post and we commissioned the materials for some proper set-building. Hired a coach, trundled off to Brum and were given an extensive tour of the premises, including the assembly hall in which we were to perform. The stage had roughly the same configuration as ours, except it was a bit higher up as the hall seating was in rows rather than all flat, and you had to take a little staircase on either side to get onto it.

The big night was upon us. The sets were in place, we were suited and booted and made up in the wings, and the customary hum of lighting and polite conversation was making the hall vibrate. The curtain rose to a full house, crowned by the local PTA's finest. We went through the well-oiled motions of our performance and everything went swimmingly, dahling. Then it was time for 'Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better'.

Back home, this duet had Frank Butler dancing around Annie Oakley all over the stage as he gets carried away in his fit of self-aggrandisement, including dashing to the front of the stage and flinging his arms wide to the audience. It was at this point that the lad playing Frank Butler realised that the Birmingham school's stage was about a foot shorter than our one, and as he raced towards the audience, he plummeted off the stage and into the orchestra pit. Landing on the lead bassoonist's music stand, which speared him in the testicles. Screeches, panicked rushing around, epic muttering, calls to emergency services, etc....no-one had the heart to put the understudy on that night and the rest of the performance was hastily called off.

After a longish wait at Selly Oaks, the lad in question was diagnosed with testicular bruising and kept in overnight for observation. He came to the performance the next night to watch his understudy shine; the thought of squeezing back into his tailored costume while his balls were swollen to the size of oranges apparently didn't appeal to him. I don't think anyone in the drama department could have expected that its hundredth year of existence would have been marked by Selly patients, Annie bursaries and male stones.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Tue 30 Sep 2014, 14:06, 15 replies)

On 23 March 2014 I celebrated fours year's continuous sobriety
It may not mean much to you, but to me it's a bloody miracle.


Click for the whole story
.
( buffet_the_appetite_slayer ٩(●̮̃•)۶ jacked in to the ICE on, Wed 1 Oct 2014, 11:04, 44 replies)

for our paper anniversary a few years ago
I bought a cute leather bound 40 page 6x4 inch book, with a neat little clasp on it, and filled it with hand written reasons why I love my missus.

However, some could only be decrypted with a mirror, some were in High Elf, Hobbit Runes (old English) and a few pictures can be arranged on a musical notation to form a small song about why my wife is ace, if you set the words to it.

So far 4 years later she's not clocked the hidden notation's but noticed the Solresol, translated the elf and hobbits bits, and worked out the mirror trick :)

I had days and days of fun making this. Was brilliant fun.
(yeswehavenopasties, Thu 2 Oct 2014, 2:42, 30 replies)

At my grandads surprise 60th birthday
I was about 12 and ate so many chicken legs and drank so much fizzy pop that I decided in the middle of the dance floor to puke my guts up.

I puked so violently that stood there in the middle of lots of old women on the dance floor I also managed to shit myself.

I stopped short of pissing into my own mouth.
( spanishfly is so fucking sexy people impersonate him, Sat 27 Sep 2014, 21:31, 2 replies)

A Birthday Camping Trip
Some time ago, I was camping with some mates, and it happened to be my birthday. We were spending the morning swimming and climbing at the estuary of a river, and it was a lovely sunny day so I decided to give myself a birthday treat, and took some acid.

I'd been swimming for a while, then as I felt the acid start to do its thing I returned to the beach, to lay on the sand and watch the gulls wheeling and soaring above me. Just as I was getting into this, I became aware of shouting: it seems that the tide had turned, and two girls who were still swimming found that they couldn't get back to the shore, due to the strong undertow.

It was one of those moments when you have to decide what kind of person you are: one who stands there and waits for someone else to act, or one who acts. In this case it was the latter; with my brain fizzing I jumped - still dressed - into the river, and with another's help managed to pull the girls back to shore. We decided that we'd all had enough of the river by now, so we headed back up the cliffs to the campsite. The combination of adrenaline from the rescue, and the blood pumping from climbing the steep path, meant that the drugs were pounding through my system, and by the time I got back to my tent I was pretty damn mashed, barely able to hold a coherent conversation.

Which was a pity, because at that moment my girlfriend's rather straight-laced aunt and uncle - whose land we were camping on - popped up with a surprise birthday cake. Never has "Happy Birthday" seemed like such a long song, as I tried to keep it together and not let them see that my brains were dribbling out of my ears.

Not surprisingly, I remember that day VERY clearly...
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Thu 2 Oct 2014, 13:49, 4 replies)

I, like many others evidently, am not a big fan of these compulsory birthday rituals in offices.
Many years ago, I was working as a temp in some office somewhere doing a non-job. I was only there for a couple of months, and so when a birthday card came round, for someone in the office I had never met, I politely declined to sign it. The woman organising this gesture looked at me like I'd just suggested liquidising a newborn baby, and so I caved in and signed it with an empty platitude. She then left me with the card and instructions to pass it round the office. Of course I then wandered round the corner and gave it to the birthday boy to sign, ranting about how the whole thing is fucking stupid and I don't even know the guy.
(Baggenfrock get fucked, Fri 26 Sep 2014, 16:47, 71 replies)

Took me twenty years to realise I was bored of drinking every night, so hit it on the head last year
I didn't have a drop for about eight months at which point I thought I was bored livid of being sober, so went to the pub and really enjoyed a couple of pints, then went home. Did this a few times and realised I could drink without guzzling. Great!

What I didn't realise was what I had inadvertently done by having a long break was loose 'the thirst' where you can't stop once you've started. So now I can go to a pub, have a pint or two and leave, with no desire/thirst for any more. I now actually find the prospect of going for a session a turn off.
( Harpago ¯\(°_o)/¯, Wed 1 Oct 2014, 15:30, 28 replies)

( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Wed 1 Oct 2014, 11:16, 88 replies)

I hope Dr Skagra dies in ringofyre

(The Magic Number is neither magic nor a number, Tue 30 Sep 2014, 16:28, 2 replies)

ok, how about this to win:
b3ta.com/questions/celebrations/post2380048

And then we can all get on with our shit.
( rofl harris, Tue 30 Sep 2014, 13:27, 8 replies)

I celebrated getting out of bed with a cup of tea.

( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Mon 29 Sep 2014, 16:12, 10 replies)

i actually have quite a bit to celebrate just now
not just my upcoming birthday, but my successful surgery and the confirmation that the other surgeries i need should be done by christmas. after that, i should be able to celebrate finally getting declared fit to get a job!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Mon 29 Sep 2014, 15:53, 9 replies)

For me, this is quite a week for milestones
Five years ago tomorrow, I moved into a three-storey house in Crouch End that I was renting with the missus and some of our friends. Tomorrow, me and the missus are moving out into our own two-bedroom flat in Muswell Hill. It's like the end of one great adventure and the start of another.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 29 Sep 2014, 14:19, 40 replies)

Birthday
My brother i law asked my sister what she'd like for her birthday a few years back. "Ohhhhhh dont worry.... i dont want anything this year" was the casual reply.
Fast forward to the day itself, my sister gets up, bounds downstairs to find hubby eating breakfast.
"So what did you get me?", She asked, beaming.
"Err..... nothing.... "
"No really.. what did you get me?"
"Err... really nothing.... you did say"
Global warmig was reversed for the rest of the week. Never... ever... believe anything a woman says regarding birthdays. or anything else. ever.
(DustyD, Mon 29 Sep 2014, 8:31, 2 replies)

Bring back Shambolic
It's only been a few days, but this is all very boring.
(Andrew Avetoom, Sun 28 Sep 2014, 22:43, 186 replies)

The office 'everyone must have a fucking collection and birthday card / present' harridan
still thinks my birthday is on the 31st November.

Twat.
( Muns, Fri 26 Sep 2014, 16:09, 4 replies)

First.
BRING BACK SHAMBO
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Thu 25 Sep 2014, 14:22, 22 replies)