Fellatio

Quick and random birthday party thoughts arranged in bullet format because I'm in too much pain to think:

• I've got one of those hangovers that make me walk very slowly. I can't expect to be normal again till Wednesday probably. This is what you get when there's a line of about two dozen people waiting to buy you a shot, making you relive your worst (or best) night of college, times three. Every one of my personal drinking records were shattered last night.
• The password was: "fellatio". Jessie, the doorman at my apartment building that I'm really chummy with, he was given explicit orders from me not to allow entrance to anyone arriving to my birthday pre-drinking festivities without saying "fellatio". But everyone was too embarrassed or too prim and proper to say it, and Jessie let them in anyway. I hate when good ideas don't see fruition.
• My justification was that the shutter glasses were the male equivalent of a tiara.
• Kevin reminded me to bite off the tip of my cigar, but I chomped off about an inch and went into a ten-minute spitting attack that seemed to amuse everyone greatly.
• Roy thought the password was "focaccia".
• After about a week of practicing by following along to the instructional video on YouTube, and also getting some pointers from my coworkers a few days ago, I finally busted out my rendition of the Soulja Boy Dance. It was everything that I dreamed it would be.

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• The older we get, the less socially acceptable it is to throw yourself a birthday party. But I'm going to do it again next year, because I love my friends and draw so much energy from them. Whenever I party with everyone all at once, it puts me in a good mood for weeks. Why stop?