As it's officially my un-birthday again I've decided to have an un-birthday party. I shall not be receiving any cards with stupid jokes about how old, blind, farty or generally not good anymore I am perceived to be. Said cards usually have jokes written by 3 blind monkeys with a typewriter somewhere on planet hallmark. References to my inability to perform like a chimpanzee between the sheets will also not be required. Money in lieu of non-presents will be accepted because I'd have to be stupid not to take money from someone giving it away for no particular reason.
I will not be dancing and in particular I will definitely not be morris dancing. For those of you unaware, basically you dress up like a clown, cover yourself in hadkerchiefs and bells and proceed to prance around like a fairy twatting each other with a stick. All the time that this is occuring some weirdo geek with the personality of a sloppy dog turd is warbling on about #didn't we have a lovely time, the time we hugged a tree, a lovely time with cider, o fiddly diddly dee#. Grrrr even the thought of it makes me want to nuke Cornwall - bastards.
Other non-occurring activities will be the bring your own booze bullshit. What sort of cheapskate twat invites you to a party and then asks you to bring your own alcohol?
Wankers - that's not a party, thats a fucking meeting. What next - come to church but please bring your own god. Yeah I'll just defrost one of those ones I keep in the freezer then.
Un-birthday shags are always welcome of course. You never know when a seabird could come in handy. You could have a sudden fetish for chicken curry and realise - oh bollocks the shops are closed. Never mind, there's always that shag in the cupboard you'd forgotten about. Hooray. The day is saved by a shag and thus a curry - perfect.
Un-official birthday cakes are another non-requirement. All that bollocks with candles and 'jokes' about calling the firebrigade because there are so many candles on the cake. Ha bloody ha. Keep that up and you'll be calling the fire brigade for real when I set fire to your house.
Tuneless renditions of songs mentioning a birthday are also not required, or references to squashed tomatoes and stew either.
Stupid twatty little paper hats are banned. Well, you can wear them if you want but don't be surprised to find your head on fire. Paper hats are for granny parties (the sort where 20 old biddies are sat at a table to celebrate some old girl reaching 90 years old and smelling, well, piss factor 60). I suppose they're ok for chimps as well, but just make sure all the typewriters are locked away.
So, just another day then really.......