Stop inviting me to your parties. I think I have not only aged out of going to some nonstop rager hosted by you, specifically for your benefit, but I also can’t keep track of when your unnecessary gatherings even occur. You might think I sound incredibly unfun, but actually, I am the life of the party. It’s just that at my age, all the life has been sucked out. “Tom’s 32nd BDay Bash!!!” at Squirrel Lodge is on 2 November, but then “Shelly’s Pre-Turkey Day Shindig?” is two days later. You actually think I’m going to both of those?
Besides, I can’t recall what I ate for breakfast, let alone what day your party is. Unfortunately, technology has a solution to my memory problem.
