Big crazy party? I’m too old for that shit! Exotic booze and premium beers? Get bent. You want wine that doesn’t have sediment floating in it? Tough shit, bring it yourself. That citrus flavored vodka you got me three years ago that nobody can use to make a proper drink? Well guess what, now it’s in your white Russian! Just try and drink that shit! Fancy personally prepared cuisine? What?! I don’t have any god damn money for that crap, I’ve got a kid! You’re getting some grilled bologna sandwiches! Hand written invitations in the mail? What are you retarded? Why do you think we invented the internet?! Invitations through e-vite?! What are you retarded? Who the hell still uses e-vite? Colossal theme party complete with festive decorations? How about I’m still wearing pants when you show up and there isn’t excrement smeared on the wall? How’s that for a theme?!
Food: The cheapest gas station pizza I can find, probably something that’s been sitting on hot rollers. That’s right mutha-fucking rollers.
Entertainment: You can all gather round me while I drink myself into oblivion in the corner of my basement. I’ll be staring at the pages of my high school yearbook trying to figure out where it all went wrong.
If you’re reading this and you didn’t get a real invite…
YOU’RE NOT FUCKING INVITED.
Now I have to go delete this rant from my actual birthday invitations.