I did. So there was that, seeing/hearing an unrivaled orchestra, strong-armed out of Shed 19 by a feisty bouncer, spinning a 480min funky house set, dress-ups, a greater than great beer festival, Mr Wright’s 50th and one gigantic Big Club Night Out.

Easing off the pedal of my manic party lifestyle, due to my fast approaching NZ departure aye? The weekend began on target with craning over the crowds to take in the fantastical ‘People In Your Neighbourhood’, feat. The UK’s ‘Urban Soul Orchestra’, on Thursday. They’re playing my next big party for sure.

Friday started on track, checking out the ‘Every Dog Has His Day’ opening at The Letham Gallery. A house-like exhibition space with many nooks; I gazed, sipped and roamed for over an hour.

The devil then piped up, chipping in with some naughty ideas, I had no valid comeback for his convincing argument. It was on! Scooting about Ponsonby I picked up 3 car loads of stray party orphans. We tripled the Parnell pre-town party, and got the guaranteed, neighbour-knocking, surround-sound system humming.

Heightened and enlightened, my slimmed team bounded into Opium right on que. I wished DJ Falcon had done the same. I handled 40min of looking at every euro looking fella that rolled in, hoping that this was the DJ I’d come to see play my favourite party anthem ‘So Much Love To Give’.

Staying on party schedule we sadly moved on, vowing to return in an hour, or so. Crossing the road to the car I commented on the nearby cool, slick, white double-decker tour bus. All of a sudden there were 3 forceful voices charging me on to climb aboard. I’d never struck peer-pressure like it. Climbing a tree, and onto an overhanging branch, I lowered myself onto the roof, and did the jig I’d been hounded to perform. Scared I’d wake the snoozing driver within the cocoon, I shimmied down the sheer bonnet and scuttled to the get-away car, which happened to be parked out the front of the Auckland central police station, how unlucky.

Get Shaky was absolutely quaking upon our arrival. The council had halved the allowed capacity prior to opening, making it appear oversold. I made my way in, was thrown into an involuntary arm lock and marched back the way I’d come. Red faced, with a grazed forearm, but unphased, I stealthily tried again. Successful, we traipsed about Shed 19 (that’s indistinguishable from the former Float, the last bar there). The attendees were young and buzzy, but they had no staying power. By 4am, they were sweeping the floors.

A quick look in at Spy gave us directions to a crack-on. In the zone I reserved the decks and played for 8 hours. Having just 14 CD’s was a drawback, so I got creative and doubt anyone noticed the double/triple-ups.

As Beerfest o’clock rolled around, the intimidating clouds rolled away. Thousands turned out at Ellerslie Racecourse, well it felt like it anyway. The vibe was excellent and entertainment steller. I wish it was just more regular than annually. I say put Jordan Luck, Wagne Anderson, The Tutts, SJD and Pluto on the next set of NZ postage stamps, they all performed like heros.

I couldn’t miss Steve Wright’s 50th birthday bash, it had been on everyone’s lips for weeks. Cutting a few corners we made it, and were not let down by any means, think of a Hugh Hefner party, but just on a realistic budget.

Regrettably I had to duck off early and get the ball rolling at The Big Club Night Out. Out of the 5 clubs I’d been booked for the newish Shadow Lounge. It looked great, staff friendly and the DJ set-up was bliss.

I felt like a rockstar up in the booth. People smiling, and yelling encouragement in my direction, hands in the air, taking snap-shots, it was buzzy. It was only after my set that I ascertained it had been simulcast nationwide on George FM. With a bounce in my step I went exploring the other zones and venues, the gig had sold-out and K Rd was as busy as a red-light sale at Supre.

As the little hand ticked on, my big weekend out caught up with me and I set the compass homeward.

Thankfully I’d left my diary at a friends place, else I would’ve remembered about Sunday’s wild party opportunities. Instead I lazed on the beach, went to a nutty performance light’n’sound show called Siren, at MOTAT, cooked a scrummy BBQ and watched 1/5 of Guy Ritchie’s latest movie RocknRolla. I would have watched the last 4/5 but I was sound asleep.