Manifesto Anti-Birthday with pomp
E 'is now a classic, comes the call of Butel / a round of asking to go to his birthday, table booked in hard, a thousand cocktails, a thousand pheeghe, thousands of Bute, one thousand one thousand thousand.
"You can do, I will tell you." So I would just respond until recently. I hate birthdays with great fanfare, those nights when you know the birthday boy, 2 Maybe 3 Bute and other minimally do not know who they are. What sense does it make a birthday party where the majority of the people have never encountered, ergo you do not know? Smiles stretched lines drawn, boredom.
commonly said, a pain in the ass. (Note the automatic fix embankments gave me instead of balls). The invitation to the birthday neo flashy, with a frantic search for the boundaries of the bright lights of the lowest level of obsession leads me outright decline in my presence on the basis of some selected criteria, not directly, but alas acquired d ' Experience:
1) groups that form during the evening lead inevitably to a sinking ship, where everyone is a bit like the fuck they like (taken from a spot Guzzantiana memory in favor of the House of Freedoms).
2) Try to remember it the past, topped with big laughs and pats on the back is a tall order, given the tuntz tuntz perpetual high-frequency site in the dance halls for young people.
3) The attack on the mega jug kindly offered by the celebrated, reminds me of the assault on food distribution in those areas of the Horn of Africa plagued by war and beset by hunger / thirst.
4) The celebrated / a whose motto is "the more people there the better" is more concerned to accommodate the guests by directing them to the table rather than have fun and entertain those present. (On this I think the point is: go to accommodate people in the reception of a hotel, so we also gain some €).
Obviously, everyone is free to celebrate as they please, but must not underestimate the factor of mutual understanding between guests. A good dinner consisting of tempting libations, watered by a good wine, with a small circle of friends, then maybe hole up in a nice little place where you can chat is much more fun and less of the now smarronante retro Birthday with pomp. The invitation to the latter, for some years now, I refuse with the excuse of having to remove the advertising in the program I'm recording on Rai Uno led by Gigi Marzullo (my dresser drawer).
Butel Saval
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