OFFICIAL INVITATION, PLEASE READ OUT LOUD FOR BEST RESULTS (OR DON’T. I’M NOT YOUR DAD.)
Occasion: Pool Party (capital P, capital P, no swimming)
Host: Me. Obviously.
Reason: I’m still alive, still employed, still wearing red, and history says that deserves decorations. Plus, I haven’t thrown a self-celebration in a while and that felt irresponsible. Attendance implies acceptance. Gifts are encouraged but unnecessary. Compliments will be noticed. Internalized. Never forgotten.
Dress code: Red preferred. Black accents acceptable. Green strictly forbidden.
What to Expect: Things may appear brighter, busier, and significantly more committed than before. Party hats. Cupcakes. Rainbows. Unicorns. So much shine that Secret Lair went ahead and let me debut my own foil treatment! This is the Pool Party Edition: extra everything, zero restraint, and full confidence in choices that absolutely did not ask permission. RSVP however you want. I already counted you in.
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