Zombie Elvis wears Old Spice

Steve’s birthday was actually the first non-alcoholic party I’ve been to in a while. It was nice for a change.

The crowd was decidedly geeky, so inevitably the conversation turned toward Nintendo. "Welcome to my life. It’s like this 24/7," she muttered as she dragged everyone femalie outside to sit in the shade with her baby. From then on conversation was about babies, which is even more boring than video games.

Why is it that people automatically assume that since I’m female I’m automatically interested in babies? I don’t care how much he weighed when he was born, or how many ounces of formula he drinks daily or how many hours of labour you were in or how cute his little booties look. I might, however, make a half-assed attempt to make him smile, which will fail.

Eventually Ian joined us, partially because he thinks (and rightly so) that video games kill conversation and are bad at parties and partially to fire up the barbecue. That was the first burger I’ve eaten in about 6 years, I believe. It was quite good for a burger, but still, I don’t think I’ll be having another for a long, long time. That is, unless it’s a tuna burger from the Red Onion. I love those things.

Presents were interesting. The biological father, who I'd never met before and from what I understand, isn't particularly well liked, brought a stack of them, the last of which, oddly enough, wasn't a CD or a DVD. The play by play went as follows: "It's a box. It's a picture frame. It's a picture in a picture frame. It's a picture of an old guy in front of a brick wall?" At which point biological got really excited and explained that it was a TGI Fridays in Edinburgh. ... Yeah. He seemed to be the only one excited about that.

More importantly, it was wrapped in bubble wrap. Fucking bubble wrap. I hate it to the power of 3.

The evening was redeemed via improv games. One person goes out of the room, everyone else decides who they are and then everyone interviews them, using very pointed questions. The object of the game is for the interviewee to figure out who he or she is and start answering the questions correctly.

Some rounds were hilarious. The one that sticks in my mind is probably "Dr. Doolittle, canine sex therapist," because we got to torture poor Steve with questions like "do you use diagrams or are you a hands on kind of guy?" The other one that we had a lot of fun with was "zombie Elvis," because we all started screaming when he walked in and he couldn't figure out why.

Then we played a game called mafia, where people die and then the rest of the room has to figure out who killed them and who to execute. People keep dying until all the mafia is taken care of. Something like that.

Beware. I live underneath a park bench and I have a legion of spiders that I use to kill people. Kathy, however, has a special ring that turns her into a man with superhuman strength so that she can tear off people's limbs off and drink their blood. Don't piss us off.