Dear Bitches:

Dear Bitches:

I know you are very busy spending your husbands' money getting coffee and pedicures, but seriously, how hard is it to send an e-mail and say you can or cannot come to my kid's birthday party?

You are a bunch of thundercunts. I should have known not to invite any of you when none of the class mothers stepped up to organize a group Christmas gift for the teachers*.  You're a bunch of bitches, and I will be laughing while I eat my fried calamari at the party**. 

I just wanted to see how middle spawn interacts with his class outside of the classroom setting. I don't want to be your friend or anything, I just wanted to serve you some shellfish and a glass of white wine. I really don't care if you come or not because it's less money for me to spend on the party and less crap for me to keep in my house!! Fewer people = fewer presents (trust me the kid is not in need of more shit, nor do we have room for it).  I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHO IS COMING SO I CAN FIGURE OUT GOODY BAGS, FOOD, ETC.

Let me be clear, THIS IS ABOUT COMMON COURTESY, and you bitches are too busy waiting on line at Starbucks and getting bikini waxes to fucking send out an e-mail. I'm not chasing you down either. Show up, don't show up, whatever, but if you show up and I didn't know you were coming, YOUR kid will not have a goody bag and I will make sure that they know the reason is because their mother is an asshole.

Fuck off bitches and get a clue!

Love,
ME

*Which is SUCKY. Because then they end up with 20 little pieces of shit gifts that no one wants. EXCEPT MY GIFT which was the best! Because I gave them booze. Because after spending your days with 20+ 4 year olds you need a little pick me up.

**That's right, look what you will be missing, you twats. Because I don't believe in pizza for adults. I believe in calamari and mozzarella and roasted pepper salad and garlic knots and wine for adults.