Friday Night House Party. Apparently.

So, it's my birthday Friday, right? Payday, I might add. I tell the boys at work, and of course, that means party time. So before I know it, they got it allll planned out. After work, say around 7 pm or so, they're coming over. Bringing with them plenty o' booze, and loads of Kentucky Fried Chicken. A stripper was mentioned by someone, but I mean come on, 200 bucks for 20 minutes of teasing? I think not. For 200 bucks I could get me a high quality call girl for an hour (like that would happen, so don't even think it). So anyways, they figure porn and poker are the way to go. I ask myself, is this a birthday bash or a bachelor party? Cripes.

What ever happened to the days of cake and presents and the celebration of one's birth? Does that end when you turn 18 years of age? When you're a kid, you're all happy that you're one year older. But once you hit the big one-eight, it's time to hit the bottle... You're getting old... You've hit that peak and your body begins it's long journey to death... It's your birthday? Drink up my friend. Have one on me. I'm so sorry...

ANYwho, anyone and everyone is invited to come Friday night, if you read this. The night is not set in stone. We may just go out as well. Who knows. All you gotta know is there's gonna be booze. Nuff Said.