Worst party ever
Alternative title: reason 8,758,568 why I fucking hate religion. It's the dawn of the 90s and I'm a fresh face at uni. I meet an overseas student called Edmund. He's in one of my English tutorial groups and seems pretty friendly. When he invites me to a party on a Friday night at something called the Celtic Club in the city centre, I say yes. Yes! My first uni bash! I'm stoked because I've heard university parties really go off - I'm ready to get amongst it! Party! Friday night comes around. Woohoo! I get on the bus and go to the city. I find the Celtic Club. I'm ready to rock, baby! But wait... how come there's no bouncer at the door? That's weird. There's a decent crowd inside, so surely that's a good sign? Everyone's playing limbo, though, which seems a little bit strange. And there's not a drop of booze in sight. I'm a little bit wary. I mean, it's Australia... and we've got uni undergrads... at a dry Irish club... pla