My "sweet 16"(shit 18), unlike the real ones you see on television where Ashley, the blonde Texan girl guilts her parents into buying a Mercedes, consisted of sitting in A&E for 4 hours at 3 in the morning with an ice pack strapped to my head. Apparently in a state of drunken delusion I had skipped into the door frame an hour into my party and passed out. Being the natural host that I am, I continued as normal when I came back around, supplying drinks and food despite the small canyon that had formed on my forehead. However, when the party had finished and people were settling down, I was practically dragged to hospital by my parents to have my head glued back together, which I reluctantly agreed to because the alcohol numbing was wearing off.
2 years on and I still don't regret doing that yard of beer! You only get one life, don't waste it!
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