birthday nostalgia.

I'm not celebrating it this year, but it's my 39th birthday this weekend. While douche-ing the upstairs yesterday, we found this crass/cryptic souvenir from last year's party.

Last year's party was a two-day affair. At the end of Part One (a complete surprise engineered by Mara with a bunch of friends and a bunch of beers at Cafe De Tuin), as we were leaving someone suggested "we should do this again tomorrow night", and everybody else heartily concurred, the way you might after a night of malty beverages and creative ribaldry.

Remarkably, we actually did do it again the next night. Part Two ended up being an experimental cocktail party at our place, using the New American Bartender's Guide as our Star of Bethlehem (we're playing a game right now where I read the beginning of the sentence and Mara finishes it). We began with Bosom Caressers (brandy, blue curacao, and grenadine) and ended by at last locating that Baby Jebus of beverages, the Supercock (champagne, cognac, and creme de cacao).

A great deal of data has been lost regarding Night Two. No one remembers what we had to eat that night (though I'm sure we cooked up a storm), where we parked our bikes the night before (it took us a day or two to find them), or any of the drinks in between the Bosom Caressers and the Supercocks.

No one also remembers what the f*ck that sequence of numbers and letters is on the piece of paper above. It's a password (or username?) for something moderately important, because we both recognize it, and feel like we've used it more than once, but that's as far as we can get.

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