Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Party Time


I made a decision long ago that I would not attend any of the housewife parties where the purpose is to sell products. By excluding all, it would be nothing personal when it came time to decline yet another invitation from a well-meaning friend hoping to score a few dollars and a complimentary pizza stone.

Some of the little postcard invitations I've received in the mail over the years....

Pampered Chef
As I am neither pampered, nor a chef, I see no point in wasting anyone's time.

Tupperware and the like
Can someone please explain to me the wrong in using sour cream containers, peanut butter jars, yogurt cups and pickle jars to store my leftovers in?

Discovery Toys
Discovery. My idea of a kid discovering something would be to set him on the floor with a carboard box, some markers and some TP tubes. I'm not sure what has ever been discovered by a child pushing a button to hear the ABC song or the naming of all the colors or counting to 20 in Spanish.

Passion Parties
I'm no Dr. Ruth, but seems to me if you need facilitative devices in order to have fun during S.E.X. (sorry, that's how my Mom always spoke the word and old habits die hard) then you might be doing something wrong. Isn't the whole idea of sex is that it's supposed to be fun? OK, I mean aside from the whole procreative thing. The need for devices, toys, aids, what-have-you .... kinda like giving a kid a DS to play with when he's riding the Serpent at Six Flags.
Wait. Maybe The Serpent wasn't the best roller coaster name to use to illustrate my point here.



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