Before I get into detail, it's not my birthday, but this jewish kid's birthday.
You see, it was this kid's birthday, and he is now 12, I didn't pay attentio because they has a endless supply of manischewitz wine and cheese. So I go over and get a full glass and some matza bread (so fuckin' gangsta yo) and I sit down and I stare at the party. If I was a neo-nazi I would of threw up and brought a SAW rifle. Instead, I drank the pain away because I knew what was going to happen, this kid's self indulgence will piss me off. All right, I get some BLAND AS FUCK soup. It needed fucking salt, not even that it needed a fucking salt ore in the soup. I must of dumped like 2 tablespoons of salt and a long pour of soy sauce. Regardless, I'm still drinking this wine and it doesn't taste like wine and I'm getting fucking wasted because it so cleverly snuck into my veins and it got me so fucking wasted. After the 4th cup, I want to fucking throw up, I stumble to the toilet and blew a fucking load out of my mouth. It smelled like Ohio when I was done. Still drunk, my suit is tight and I'm so agitated by the sodium I need a smoke and some real macho booze. I stumble in the house to see a frail looking man. He has a yurmkle and I'm looking for a open flame to light this damn cigarette. I stumble in the basement to see a Golem. It was shiny and black. I was surprised when it buzzed at me. Normally I took this as a challenge to fight. I found a tire iron and it did nothing except it's eye turn red to green. I rushed at it and smashed the tire iron in it's head. After a while it sparked electricity and a fire emerged from it from the grey ashes and glasses in it. I lit my cig and I shimmied through their basement window, then I ran home. When I sobered up, I got a phone call about a broken PS3.
