Tomorrow night, Monday, July 10th, my 29th birthday, Treat St. Bar, the corner of 24th and treat in the deep mission. There will be a pinata. I will be breaking my alcohol sabbatical. There will be stupidity. All are welcome. All women are required to wear Catholic schoolgirl uniforms or cheerleader out fits with big red "cents" signs on them. All men must be dressed as kangaroo's, cheerleader outfits optional. Louisa will be jumping out of a whole-wheat sugar-free cake and performing an interperative dance strip tease to "winds of change" by the Scorpions. Tuula will try to act as if she is above all of this nonsense, unsuccessfully. Chris Karney will call you stupid, and tell you why. What's worse, he'll probably be right. It's okay, we'll strap him to the pinata and tell the local mexican kids that he is full of chiclets. Hopefull Eric Farman will show up just to make less sense than I do.

I was serious about the cheerleader outfits. And if someone builds a dunk tank, I will gladly sit atop it and insult whoever buys a baseball. All proceeds go to last months rent. I plan on having another birthday in a week to pay for this months.