birthday recap
In case you haven't heard, I'm 24 now, and I actually spent much of my birthday in bed or at work... but that's only because we did a little night-before party that bridged from when I was still 23 on the 23rd over to when I turned 24 on the 24th.
So I was pretty tuckered out on Saturday because, as Stacy said, "Brian's 24th birthday last night was almost too wild to comprehend- but the stories will last forever."
Some of those stories need not be told on the Internet, but as usual, I'll tell you what I can and make vague references to the rest.
dinner
So we kicked off the evening with dinner and drinks at the infamous Spa Resort Casino, where Stacy had some Brian-esque parking problems that got the song "Birthday Spot" stuck in my head. (It's to the tune of "Birthday Sex," but it's about parking.)
Also, there we spied a handsome young gentleman who was there with his... dad? No, wait. Boyfriend. Gross.
back at the ranch
Then, back at my apartment, we looked at SSP pictures, I told everyone about my international modeling career and we made good use of my laminated world map that you can use dry-erase markers on:
Soon afterward, we took the markers to the actual whiteboard to record all the ridiculous quotes that had started flowing. The first full-on epic quote of the night was this little conversation right here:
Stacy: There are no black people in this movie. How's it a black comedy?
Mariecar: No, it's like a dark comedy.
me: Yeah, like—
Stacy: Oh, I thought—
me: Wait. You thought it was like "Big Momma's House?"
Stacy: Yeah!
Then, these quotes were also enshrined on my whiteboard or on Twitter. I'll leave the names off of these just to be safe...
"Oh no. My zipper is stuck on my money."
"I'll give you a nickel to tickle my pickle."
"There was so much crotch on the back of my head."
"Kill your beers!" / "This is Sparta!"
"Fuck yo' couch!"
Then, after we had so much non-Internet-discussable fun that we had compiled a list on the whiteboard of "who we've wronged," we took the show on the road to a gay bar in downtown Palm Springs that's just a few blocks away from my apartment for further shenanigans.
at hunters
Now, at Hunters, my memory starts to get a little fuzzy since I was the beneficiary of a few birthday drinks. What I do remember is that there was some drinking and some dancing, and two guys from the sports desk showed up to celebrate ye olde birthday even though the gay bar was not exactly their kind of scene.
Then came another tweeted (and retweeted... and retweeted) quote:
me at 1:32 a.m.: How drunk am I on a scale from 1 to Ginger Jeffries?
Jodi: I think it's time for news.
Then there was more dancing, the 2 a.m. walk home and the winding down of the festivities.
what about the room?
I'm glad you asked. With all this birthday biz going on, we never got around to watching the best worst movie ever, "The Room."
Since Tommy Wiseau's 2003 masterpiece has yet to have its official Palm Springs premiere, that means you'll all have to keep an eye on Facebook for a future Room-party date.