I’d say the vast majority of you knew it was my birthday party last Saturday. I got a bunch of my fave party friends together, boarded a bus and cruised around some interesting spots. Everyone got on very well, too well in one particular case, but I’ll go into that in detail once I tell you about what else went down earlier in the week.

My weekend spanned 5 days last week with Monday and Tuesday being my downtime. Still feeling firmly fragile after the previous week’s Jerry Springer-like happenings, I wasn’t quite my outgoing self. This meant I observed activities from the non-alcoholic shadows, and what funny goings on there were.

The slightly-slutty Brass Magazine was relaunched at Pony on Wednesday. “Foxy ladies and podgy older guys” about summed it up, from one established photographer present. I was as sober as a shipwrecked sailor so stayed to bid hello to a few key people then made haste.

If nothing changes, then nothing changes, so I tried Ponsonby last Thursday: SPQR for tapas and mean merlot, Orchid for chilling and tuning into DJ Philippa on the decks, then next door to The Ponsonby Social Club (PSC), the area’s latest bar. Ploughing through the 15m crammed, no-roofed smoking passageway to get in was not an ideal start. This opened out into a minimal living-room style room with a bar. It was so minimal that the guy’s loos had 2 pokey porcelain bowls, and that’s all. It will be flavour of the month, maybe two, before settling down to what I predict to be steady good business for years to come. 

I like Sing-Sing at Pony, perhaps I’m mildly addicted, so I scampered downtown to the so often tried, tested and proven. New manager Dan has taken over Ivan’s abandoned reigns with strength, and is keeping it poppin’n’boppin. There aren’t many reliable fun spots on Thursdays in our city of sails, but rain or shine Pony Club stays true and a good goer. So a fun Thursday schedule could read; Meet friends after work in Ponsonby till 9, downtown to Pasha till 11, duck into Pony till 1 for some good times, then shake it down at Spy till 3ish….always remembering that it’s a “school night” and you’ve used all the plausible sick day excuses.

Friday was another eye-popper. After 2 contrasting, yet equally sad, leaving parties (bye bye Alyssia and Vanessa) I ascended the red carpet to Opium, for the KidsCan Charitable Trust 70’s themed gala, named “Studio 42”. I’d been asked to co-DJ with long-time friend OB1 and not wanting to disappoint I’d gone to some lengths to prepare, dusting off all the old 12 inches and researching current trends.

Studio B’s hit dance track “I See Girls”, was indicative of the whole evening. I don’t know where these girls normally hang out but it’s definitely nowhere near my usual haunts. Sex in the City had come to my town and my jaw was struck. The cocktails were downed at a frenetic pace and mingling turned into interaction, which turned into “Your place or mine?” Again I stayed off the drink, trying to focus on the job at hand. It was a tough crowd but we pulled the 6 hour set off with only minor hitches, ending with a good hour of dance party remixes.

Hats off to Dai Henwood for his unconventional, yet successful, stripper auctioneering method. The steamy nipple rub clinched $7000 for the last lot, a date with celebrity host Jason Lewis (Samantha’s toy-boy called Smith, from Sex in the City), and a Raymond Weil “Nabucco” timepiece. Also, kudos to NZ’s gossip queen and columnist, Bridget Saunders, who outlasted the vast majority and was seen dancing to Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy” at 2am, still clutching a cocktail and equally jovial friends.

Everything had gone according to plan, apart from a couple of key attendees pulling out at the 11th hour, so all I had to do was turn up to Easy Tiger at 1pm and wait for the games to begin. At 2.30pm 80 of my friends and I boarded “Zues”, a lovely specimen of a party bus. Our destination: the “LionZone”, brewery giant Lion Nathan’s corporate hosting area, deep in the heart of the Lion complex. Covers band “The Neons” (catch them at Bar Retro’s new 80’s night launch this Saturday) played while we all got to know each other a little better. By the time their last song, “Mr Brightside” by The Killers, struck all of us were moshing in the streaming sun, sunglasses drawn.

Brendon, our driver, knew all the short-cuts, so we killed 10 minutes by stopping at an exposed (to the general public) park in Henderson. Vicky-Lee took entertainment into her own hands and quickly made friends with the local BMX boys and Barbie toting girls (you’ll have to see the youtube footage to see what I mean).

I’ve had a long association with Babich Wines, so I thought I’d take my large posse out there for some sampling and it was here that the kissing fiesta ignited.

By the time we’d reached the second to last stop, MOTAT – the transport museum, one of my longest friends, and most celibate (due to exceptionally high standards), had already pashed 5 girls. It was rampant, girls with girls, friends with friends, randoms with randoms, then swap time. One lucky newly formed couple even snuck away to the top floor of the bus and bonded.

DJ OB1 got the dance floor firing inside the ancient villa, and Sample Gee consolidated the middle stages, while Dougal Swift and super special guest Steve Hill brought us home. All while the team from Drumline gave us a sterling lesson in party percussion, and Paul Shanta, and fellow fire boys, flipped flames like Greek Gods.

At 11pm we all swooped in on Forte, to join a few hundred more and celebrate the closing stages of my 32nd birthday and one of the most amazing days of my life. But these are all just words, you really have to see the footage to believe the hilarities. Email me now if you’re keen, and I’ll send you a link.