So, Where is the Guest of Honour?

The weekend is over and I am relieved to say, Brother Unlucky is alive and well – amongst all of my other friends who ventured down to Negril for the weekend.

I have not seen my Ed Hardy hat as yet, but I will make sure to ask about its well-being as soon as Brother Unlucky wakes up.

On another note, despite the fact that I stayed in MoBay the entire weekend, Brother Unlucky still gave me something to write about. (I told you he never disappoints.) The story is quite embarrassing for my parental units, and needless to say they were a little less than pleased.

Why you ask? Well, if you have ever planned a birthday party and the guest of honour did not show up, I’m sure you would feel like hiding under a rock as well. Mind you, it was not a surprise party, as Brother Unlucky gave them the okay to plan it. Its just that in the end, he decided to go to one last party in Negril while food was being cooked, a birthday cake was made from scratch, and the family gathered at my Uncle’s house. He claimed it was a bad day because none of his friends would have been able to make it – since they were all busy getting drunk.

I was sent to the rescue though, considering Negril is not too far away from the house; but by the time he was ready – which was after he partied – everyone had gone home and my uncle had gone to bed. I’m not complaining too much here though, because my cousin and I did get in some partying in the meanwhile; and the best part – it was Free. (Free just always makes you feel better about everything; the party turned out to be awesome.)

I do have one complaint though. This morning I woke up with a stuffy nose.

I think Jamaica hates me.

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