You're Not Invited to My Birthday Party

(Ever Again)

That's it. I've had it. I've had it with this whole thing, and I've had it with you. I warned you before. I warned that if you kept going on and on and on that there would be dire consequences. But you wouldn't listen. You just wouldn't listen. And now you leave me no choice. I'm never going to invite you to my birthday party ever again.

That's right. You heard me. I'm never going to invite you to my birthday party ever again. Ever. Never ever again. Ever.

Oh, and it's going to be something, too. You're going to regret making me mad and missing out on this extravaganza. It'll be a sight to behold, believe me. They'll be talking about it in Wayzata, Eden Prairie, probably even as far as St. Louis Park. There are going to be clowns; a moon jump, a sun-jump (which is actually just a really hot sandbox); two- count them, TWO- cakes (one chocolate, one vanilla, THREE LAYERS EACH); a variety of ice cream and toppings for the ice cream (like whip cream, chocolate chips, and jimmies); eight different kinds of pop (if you drink diet, get out of my house); a petting zoo (complete with such exotic creatures as ostriches, emus, and very very small monkeys); barbecue chicken and hamburgers (veggie burgers will be available upon request); fireworks; and three of the biggest pinatas filled with only the most delicious assortment of chocolate and non-chocolate candies.

How long is this party that you're NOT INVITED TO, you might be wondering? It will last from twelve o'clock in the afternoon to whenever. Yeah. You heard me right. WHENEVER. Which means this party could last for weeks! I don't know! Nobody knows!

A large selection of activities and games will also be provided for my guests, which you are most CERTAINLY NOT one of. Bobbing for apples will be held in the front yard (to the nay-sayers who claim this is but a Halloween pastime, I spit on your grandmothers). Next to that will be an archery tournament, and next to that a potato sack race, followed by a three-legged race. The trampoline trick contest will be from 2:30 to 3:00. And did I mention that I have a pool? That's right. A pool! And we'll all go swimming in it! Everyone except you! And we'll all have a wonderful time! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

There will also be pin the tail on the donkey.

Ooh, but after the games have been won and lost, after the food has been eaten, after the sun has set and the parents have gone to bed, that is when the real fun will begin. The fun one could only have with a large circle of people and a bottle. Let me tell you.

Did I mention there will be GIRLS at my party? Twelve of them, at least, there might be more. I'm assuming I'll have more people than those that RSVP'd. I don't know why people don't just RSVP, it's not like it's hard or anything. And then I can make sure I have enough cake and party whistles and potato sacks. However, it IS possible for RSVPing to blow up in your face.

For instance, for my birthday party last year, I sent out 57 invitations. Forty-eight of them RSVP'd. So, of course, I went out and bought 24 potato sacks (one for each pair, so they could decorate their own). Guess how many people showed up? Eleven. What in God's name am I going to do with 19 potato sacks?! Luckily my neighbors needed some of their excess cats drowned, so it wasn't much of a problem.

But I digress. The subject on which I meant to speak was Spin-the-Bottle. That's when you sit in a group- with foxy, foxy honeys - and spin a bottle. Whomever the bottle lands on- a possible honey- you have to kiss right on the face. I won't say lips, because some of my guests are uncomfortable with the fact that the bottle might land on a member of the same sex. Lousy Republicans. We're mostly a bunch of free-loving hepcats. We don't care if a guy has to peck a guy's cheek, or a girl has to peck a girl!

Oh. But wait. I guess you don't care where my guests kiss each other, seeing as how you're NOT GOING. I know what you're going to do. You're going to stay home, in your room, and cry. You're going to cry for hours and hours, because all the deck hipsters will be living it up at my house. Well, most of them, I think. I'm still waiting for some RSVPs. Why don't people RSVP? Can you tell me why people just don't RSVP? It makes me so mad. I told you the story about the potato sacks, right? You know I still have some left?

Hey. You don't have any cats, do you?

Most sincerely, Thurston Whaler