I cannot come to your party because there are always drunk people at your party. Probably they're drunk before they get there because God knows they couldn't get smashed on the paltry array of booze you offer. I am glad that drunk people still amuse you, because everyone deserves love, but I'm so over that whole poking-fingers-in-chest-for-emphasis thing. Perhaps another time.
I cannot come to your party because I am going to another party. They asked me later than you did, but they're nicer people. We're going to an Indian restaurant, and then maybe we'll go to a movie. Or we'll just stroll around talking. Doesn't that sound better than sitting on an orange couch with your knees above your eyes trying to hear a woman you're supposed to know but don't talk about a brand of men's cologne you've never heard of? Doesn't that sound better than staring at the pathetic midlife Jacuzzi you've got set up in the backyard while trying not to think about what may or may not have gone on in there with you and Marjorie, if that's her name. That's what I do at your parties, I stand outside by the recycling bins and pray for an electrical fire. Again, thanks for thinking of me.
Wow something from SFGate was actually amusing?? GASP. From this article by Jon Carroll