A friend of ours turned 21 the other day, so being the good and considerate drinkers that we are, we took him out to get sloshed (see above).

The evening started out innocently enough, with some beer at the Frat House. It was more the gathering place than a start to the evening. Soon after, we moved on up the street to Casa de MonGerBerg, where I think that things took a turn for the worse. That being tequilla shots with Rainier chasers. After a bit, the lucky birthday boy was presented with his present: a xx-small jersey, numbered 21, with the name "All Growns Up" on the back. This would come into play throughout the evening, as we also had permanent markers for other, more elderly drinkers to offer words of advice. I still think the best was the police officer who offered this gem: "Use both hands." Seattle's finest.

After spending some quality time at the SteinRothHans, we moved downtown to Cowboys, Inc, after a quick stop for some vodka shots, arm wrestling, handcufffing, and general hooliganism at a friends. At Cowboys, Inc, they have two things going for them: a mechanical bull, and girls that dance on the bar and slap you in the face. Odds are, one of those things will turn you on (I won't say what mine is, but I am from Idaho so you should be able to figure that one out). So our birthday boy shows up, gets a can of whip cream dumped on his head followed by a pitcher of water, and the club is going.

After watching several of my friends get turned down to ride the bull (evidently you can't be drunk and ride a mechanical bull-who knew?), we finally saw a few make their 8 seconds. I've got some good pictures of the bull, and the bull riders, but sitll haven't posted them (see other posting).

We finally got kicked out of Cowboys, Inc (evidently you can also be too drunk for a bar-again, who knew?), and we made our way back to the "handcuff incident" apartment near the Convention Center. The birthday boy was still going strong, so we repeatedly offered him "water" to sober up. After the first few shots he figured out that "vodka" and "water" aren't one and the same. But he did manage to lie down on his soap box and spout off about anything and everything, to the amusement of all present.

And to end the evening, we "almost" got back to the Frat House when the birthday boy decided that he didn't agree with all that he had to drink. He almost made it out of the car too, more's the shame.