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�������������������������������������������� �������������������������������������������� 1402 Butler Ave. TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | SEPT 2017 5 ���������������������������������������� ���������������������������������� ���������������������������������������������� ���������������������������� ���������������������������������������� ������������������������������������������������������������ ���������������������������� ������������������������������ 912-786-4576 Ok, so this month, your questions were NOT interesting enough and you all left me feeling uninspired, so now I’ve had to go rogue. As summer comes to an end, it’s time to start thinking about the elections, who should I vote for, should I even bother? It doesn’t really matter to the article because I’m not allowed to get political, so here’s September’s topic - Birthday Parties! More importantly MY birthday party. In writing this article I hope to stop another disaster like last year. Last year wasn’t a complete disaster - I mean, it started out well enough. But when you finish the night bleeding in the back seat of a Breezy while your cousin tries to sop up your blood using his sweatshirt, things have, well, gotten Tybee. When throwing a birthday party, the first thing is to remember the party is all about ME. Do I care if my guests have fun and enjoy their evening? No, I don’t. This day is all about me. If it was also your birthday, then maybe I’d care. It is important to have a kickin’ venue, usually Poos, Quarter, or Wind Rose. Then invite all the sexy people you know. This isn’t a benefit for new text books people, this is my party, no uggos allowed. For my birthday, I expect all my guests to be dressed up, not as much as me (I am the star after all), but look good people. I want to be hated by the masses come the end of the evening. Wait, I got ahead of myself. Before we pick a venue to move to, we should start at the house, beach party? How cliché. Do a pot luck, those are fun. Pot lucks are the only time of the year I can convince people to bring me Pigs in a Blanket (Fun Fact #1: I was going to open a Pigs in a Blanket stand this year, but I’m not an ambitious person). For any good pot luck there is one vital rule to follow. DO NOT bring fruit. Who wants to stand in a room with a bunch of nicely dressed beer drinking buffoons hanging around watching each other eating lightly browned apple slices? This is NOT party like. And I will not tolerate it. Let’s talk gifts. No one likes homemade gifts (Fun Fact #2: Unless said gifts are Pigs in a Blanket). What am I going to do with something you made? I mean really, you made me a card? How lovely, I’ll be sure to stack them in the bathroom in case my charger won’t reach the toilet and my phone is dead. Or possibly store them in a box under my bed, and leave it to my grief-stricken family in the unlikely event of my death. Oh and while we’re on the topic of cards, don’t buy one. You’re getting me a $9 bottle of wine from the gas station and a $5 card. Screw the card, buy me a $14 bottle of wine. I got class (Fun Fact #3: Cards are only acceptable if they are full of cash, nothing smaller than a 20). Ok, so now that we’re sure my gifts won’t suck, the food criteria will be met, and of course you’re going to stop wasting money on birthday cards, it’s time to bar hop. Don’t drink and drive, call Breezy (912-665-9988) and tell them to send their best dressed driver – usually Ron. He’s so damn handsome. Once you get to the bar of your choice (no matter what you pick you always end up at Poos somehow), get hammered. Just totally black out. The goal of your birthday is to wake up in the morning with bruises and road rash (AKA Tybee Tattoos). Having no recollection of the night before you should turn to Facebook, Snapchat, and Instagram to try to piece together the night before. And nurse that hangover with whatever room temperature beverage is closest to you. Now that you’re on the same page as me, I cordially invite you all to my birthdays. It will be on the 30th, bring Pigs in a Blanket to … probably Poos.


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