I make a habit of never checking my Events, except for today. Here is an excerpt from a most excellent invitation from a dear friend:
Hey everyone, it's my 29th Birthday on Saturday. I really didn't feel like celebrating because turning 29 is basically, not turning 30, and because birthdays nowadays are depressing and it's really stressing me out with the rain and the recession and all and I really don't feel like going far from my house.
So, therefore I've decided I'm not gonna celebrate my Birthday on Saturday and it will happen somewhere in East (you need to get out of South London anyway). So, If you feel like shit, then great, join me. We'll mope together and pick at some shit food, probably cheap vietnamese (Because I'm broke… and so are probably you), then get absolutely shit-faced at some shit pub with a rude bar staff and get ignored by all the pretty hipster dickheads. (Spurstowe Arms maybe? Depends how far I can be arsed walking in the rain) If it sounds like your idea of a good time then I love you and you can come.
His dismal tone is refreshing to me. No exclamation points. No hint of excitement. This invitation captures both the spirit of growing out of one's 20s and how we all feel about London's absolutely shit weather. I say we strive for more invitations like this. They are, at least, mildly entertaining.
1 comment:
God, he sounds like a right asshole.
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