It was my birthday, bitches.

SO,  Of course, I wore this shirt.

 
 This was the 12th year of giving myself a birthday party. Sure, the hubby helps with some of the details, and ideas... and he does has the final say on the cost, but mostly, I think about a party I'd like to get invited to and then I make that happen for my friends. If you don't get my annual newsletter, you may have read about some of these past parties here or here or seen a video here, or just stalked the pictures on one of my Facebook pages. It's ok. Everyone has a secret.

I figured there was no better way to turn 51, than to make sure a great deal of beer was involved. Enter the date selection of MARCH 15. The closest Saturday to the biggest green beer holiday in the USA.

 So, of course,we rented a bus. Not the big charter thing that took us to the Sweetwater Festival and the comedy club a few years back, but a super cool party bus for 40. Check it out.

We picked up some leprechauns, loaded up a bucket of beers, filled the coolers with booze and  donned the green.

The entrance fee for the party bus was a bottle of vodka per couple. Some people thought that was too much vodka. Some people don't know Linda very well yet. This is me mixing up the first lemon drop shots.

                                           Happy smiling people.

 We went off searching for this. The elusive layered jello shot of Ireland.

Getting closer.

 Here we are, arriving at Mac McGee's where the doorman assured us he needed no ID or cover charge. "Not if you're pulling up in that!" he said.

 We took our green decor seriously, even the bus laser light show cooperated.

We danced a jig  as the Highlanders played, or wait, something smelled funny.

These guys cut a wide path through the bar

especially with the slam banging drummer with his big guns... and gut. ;)

 Back in the bus. The stickers say, "It's all about Linda." The hubster's idea.

 Cheese!

Wait.  Is that an empty cup? GARCON!

                       Our bus was famous. Look! It's Lady Gaga and George Clooney!

This dude really wanted a ride. We wanted to know what was under his kilt.

This might be direction giving, or dollar drying, or dance instructions...

      Lots of people stopped me to read my shirt. I met an awful lot of Teds.

On our way to the next stop, things got a little blurry.

       Kinda like this guy's fashion sense. But he sure pulled the ladies.

We met a few dogs. This one had 4 legs. Very long legs.

Our new gal pal was not shy about showing off her large assets.

Somewhere along the way, I needed to be fed. Swear that was a french fry.

                                      Photo op!  I have missed these girls.

                               
                                       Why yes, there was dancing.

                           
                                   And for once, I was glad to see the cops.

This is what happens when the big dog leaves, and we miss him.

Surgeon General reports excessive partying may cause orange beard growth.

 Right on time, the bus arrives to scoop us up.

                Here we are moments later, sounding off  for a head count.

Oops. We left one behind. Time to initiate Mission Saving Private Barry.

The entertaining of the troops.

                                                            'Nuf said.

Back home, we had a birthday tart.

With all these... tarts!

There was also cake.

Glad the number of candles wasn't exact...

                      What a fun day. Thanks to all my old and new friends.

                                     Now, let's have a little karaoke time.

Oh yes, we did.

If I was going to sum up the 51st birthday in one picture.

It would have to be this.

                                                Until next year, bitches.