That’s a lot of prep considering I’m just wearing my Snorlax onesie anyway. Who am I? Batman?

Birthday prep 101 or as my buddy Montell Jordan says it best… (also just listening to the song, I couldn’t tell if Montell was black or white. Montell is a cool name, so that’s a sign pointing towards being black. On the other side, his pronunciation is so clipped and uptight that he sounds like a preppy guy trying his hardest to sound gangsta)

For a Leon party (same same but different to an S-Club party) I needed to assemble a few things. There’s a certain mix of child and hopeless twentysomething bachelor that I evoke and my party needs to showcase that. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a Leon party. It might be an Aaron’s party (get it?), which is lower on the hierarchy than a Black Panther party. If you’re confused by the shifting tenses, the party hasn’t happened yet. The best is yet to come.

I have balloons. There was an old bag of assorted sized balloons in my cupboard. I figured I might as well blow ’em up, what could go wrong? I didn’t pop too many balloons, but my blood vessels? I can’t say the same. Assorted was right. There were one or two normal sized ones and 20 or so balloons no bigger than my fist. I had no pump, so armed with nothing more than stubbornness and a set of impressive lungs (an essential component of being a big mouth) I inflated them all. So now the hallway is stacked with an array of festive caltrops, just waiting for the first casualty of the night. There’s also a sign on the front door exclaiming:

Leon’s Party:
NO balloon
NO party.

 (Condoms save lives)

(Or, y’know prevent them. That’s just semantics)

How else would people know it’s my house?

Art supplies. I decided that at 28 years I’m too old for people to be buying me presents, so I requested people brought a hand drawn picture instead. In the event that they couldn’t bring one, paper, crayons and coloured pencils would be supplied to ensure I’ll end the night with enough to cover my wall. Participation in this fun event is mandatory. People will be joyous. There will be laughs. Or else.

Snacks. I bought chips, salsa and soft drink. I’m so inept at this organisation thing that I had to be instructed by my girlfriend as to what normal humans eat. I don’t really like chips, so I was informed that BBQ, ketchup, Sea Salt and corn chips would be enjoyed. I don’t know if she’s a normal human (she is dating me y’know), but I hope she knows their tastes.

Also a whole turkey. I slow cooked it all day and now there’s a bowl with a massive mound of tinfoil wrapped turkey meat. It’s about the size and density of a bowling ball. Turkeys are pretty plump, I’ve discovered. I don’t know if that’s a normal party food, I just had it in the freezer.

Sour candy. Because we were all kids at some point. Why should we give that up without a fight.

Spider Man valentines cards. Because they were at Dollarama while I was at checkout and I figure I might as well have guests leaving better than they arrived.

I still haven’t made a playlist, but I’ve got time. The party is set to start at 7pm. It’s currently 7.10pm so I’ve got at least an hour and a half before people start arriving. That should be enough time for a quick scan through itunes to grab some tracks and throw it on random. I don’t have time to curate anything amazing, unless I once again opt for my brilliant 90s cheese mix.

Shit, I don’t have cheese for the party. How am I meant to throw a legit party without cheese? Fuck it, party’s cancelled.


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