Betsy K.’s 30th Bday

Ten rules for survival of Betsy K’s 30^th birthday:
1) Do not fistfight or vomit on the Party Bus.
2) Start drinking at 2pm, 5 hours in advance, for proper preparation of the liver.
3) Drink.
4) Dance.
5) Honor the buddy system. (Hi Heather! Hi Matt!)
6) Make sure you have enough Vodka. (Sorry, Betsy!)
7) Get real friendly with some strangers on the hump train.
8) Hang on to bus handrails at all times, for fear of the driver, gravity, and booze taking their full effect upon your ass. (Hi, ground! Will you be my friend?)
9) If you’re going to leave the bus with a 1.75 Liter bottle of JD in plane view, try not to get hit while crossing the street. (Hello, police ossifer!)
10) Have an exit strategy. (Thank for driving, Dan!!!)
Holy shit, that was a good time. Happy Birthday, Betsy!

Sweet mother of the God indeed.
I am (almost) at a loss for words! so much fun!
The music, the people, the bus… the debauchery.
Tony G getting shot out of a cannon no longer sounds as cool. This was *the* 30^th b-​day party of the century!
All three Ians, enough jessi, jessie, jessica’s to keep me confused all night long.
Enough cleavage to recreate the Grand Canyon out of just bewbie flesh.
Who brought the music? Ian K? It was great! I also want to know who brought the music from the end of the night.
Seriously, scream/​singing along to GnR AND Journey with a bus of Unilocalers?!? Fanfuckingtastical!
Thanks Rylee for some great drinks! and another awesome time at the Water Wheel!
My mind is racing trying to remember, trying to piece together, and it’s still hard to focus. It’s like porn on fast forward inside my brain w/​all the happenings and fun!
Thanks to our sexy hostess Betsy for a GREAT event and letting us all celebrate her big milestone!
Remember: there is no fist fighting on the bus, but fisting is ok!

I would like to apologize to the bars from which I stole the following items; The cool vintage Rainer beer sign (do they even make that beer anymore?), the pretty red fire extinguisher, the mini pine tree and the sign which states that the bar is not responsible for stolen property.
I would like to thank my accomplice Paul, whom helped me acquire at least one of these items and I would like to thank Betsy for being my inspiration and the beautiful birthday girl who was the recipient of these gifts and made the covert mission possible by providing an awesome getaway vehicle in the form of a big ol party bus.
The party bus driver should also be thanked for not assuming that I had stolen from him as he politely checked that the disco ball was still intact at the end of our 6 hour drinking, dancing and dry humping journey from one Seattle bar to the next.
The people, the places, the bus, the booze and the entire night were damn fun, even if I will have huge black and blue marks all over my body for several weeks from the huge spill I took. Note to everyone drinking on a party bus — hold on, hold on for dear life, because buses sometimes make sudden stops and I refuse to admit this was karma kickin’ my ass for my thieving ways.

Two Ians agree: I have to say that the Party Bus exceeded any expectations I could have had, had I really known what I could have expected to begin with.
I’ve never been so okay with being so disoriented for so long. I had no idea where we were. Every so often we’d be shuffled off the bus and deposited in a bar for a while. That’s about the level of specificness that I can recall without speculation – because of all the drunkenness present in the people that surrounded me, of course.
And don’t tell the bus driver, but I’m pretty sure that later in the evening, I got into a fistfight with someone over who had thrown up first in the back of the bus.

Wow! I think Mr. Rum and I got into a fist-​fight (off the bus, of course) I’m pretty sure I won. Eh, things are kind of hazy.
So many great people and such a great time!
Happy Birthday, Betsy! I hope you had a blast!
Now, time to look for the aspirin.. .

Great party bus packed with tons of crazed Unilocalers. What an awesome time. Happy 30^th, Betsy (for the 750^th time)!
I was more concerned about Cici punching me in the face than Mr. Rum (
). Seriously, though, Mr. Daniels was my foe for the evening. Bastard fought dirty, mixing with Coke in an attempt to knock me off my feet and take advantage of me. As usual, I schooled him and came out victorious.
Which probably explains why it hurts my brain when I so much as even blink today.