ME&P – My Birthday Party


ME & P – My Birthday Party

On my 50th birthday it was decided I should have a party to end all parties, I had decided to do a BBQ and spent weeks shopping and preparing food for the BBQ.  I had stayed up all night before the party preparing the meat, marinating, kebabs, salads, the list was endless, there were to be about 50 or more guests and some of them had travelled quite far to see me.

“P” had decided she was buying me a birthday cake, and she had been talking of it for about two weeks, it was a “secret” she told me, so I couldn’t see it or know what it was like, I happily went along with all of this, it kept a grin on her face and I thought it was a lovely idea.

One week before party;

“P”; You do want a cake dontcha, I mean if yous don’t want one just say

Me; Course I want one it’s a brilliant idea and a lovely present

“P”;  Ok, well I’ve ordered it and its being made by this woman who makes cakes

Me; Sounds good

“P”; Do you think she will do it alright, I’ll go fuckin crazy if she don’t

Me; I’m sure she will so stop worrying

“P”; Yous don’t think you too old for a birthday cake, cause I couldn’t think of anything else that would be special like, I got you a pressie but wanted to get yous summat else

Me; Naw a birthday is a birthday isn’t it?

“P” Yeah but you 50 now – don’t want yous thinkin you too old for a birthday cake

Me; (getting irritable) No I’m not too old for a birthday cake

“P” All fuckin right I was just askin don’t want you getting fuckin offended like

Me; I’m not offended at all I think it’s a lovely thing to do

“P” Well if you think you too old then just say like


“P” Fuck me I can’t even ask a civilised fuckin question fuck it yous getting a birthday cake cause its ordered now

Me; that’s great

Day of Party

I had about 30 people (I lived in a BIG space) there and I had been running around all day, I now went and had a shower, did my hair and got changed for the party, it was about 5.30pm. At about 6.30pm “P” rocked up loaded down with parcels, bags and carrier bags, and a BIG white box balanced very precariously between all the above. She dropped all the bags and she put the box on the table set up with all the food,

“P” Fuckin ell, don’t know how I got here those twatting bags, full of shit the lot of em, don’t even know why I’ve got em, (“P” well known for having millions of bags with shite in them) anyways got summat to tell yous,

Me; So tell me what’s up

“P” That fuckin cake,

Me; The cake, is that it in the box – what’s wrong with it?

“P” Nooooooooooo nuthin wrong wiv the fuckin thing, well not really, don’t think you would notice so it don’t matter

Me; Don’t worry its gonna be fine, I think it’s a lovely thing to do

“P” Yeah whatever, fuckin cake woman, I could fucking swing fer her

Me; Why what’s she done

“P” Nowt

Me; ok

“P” Stupid twat she is – I paid her upfront as well the fuckin arlearse she is (liverpudlian slang for arsehole)

“P” wanders of muttering and sorting out all her bags and as usual putting her stuff in the most obscure places that takes hours to find again.

Anyway its now about 9pm and the party starting with a bang, everyone having a blast and at about 10pm “P” decides it’s time the cake came out so she and another person helping her get the cake out of the box, I can see them muttering between themselves and I hear “P” say “she won’t notice, what the fuck am I supposed to fuckin do anyhows” I get called across to the cake and their in all its frilled, iced, and magnificent glory is a massive square cake with 50 candles all lit that says loud and boldly in BIG red letters


Pauline? My name is SUE

Me; looking at “P” who the hell is Pauline?

“P” im gonna twat that fucker

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