We are not trying to be snobs, we just don't have that much room in the moonbounce, hot tub, maze or building. We pretty much do the guest list a year in advance and while we would LIKE to have all you strange people show up in your lingerie, we just . . . can't. See you in February.

--- from the web guy ---

Since I have been getting dozen of emails each year for the last several years, I am just going to put this disclaimer here and hope the boss is too lazy to read the website updates.

Yes, it's a bunch of elitist crap and snobby holier-than-though wankers who have a huge waiting list and a tiny guest list. But I can't help you so please stop emailing me. This party is held in a place that the Fire Marshall should shoot people in the kneecap for if there are more than 30 people in attendance, so even if they wanted to make exceptions, they can't.

They don't want to though. They are cocks about the whole thing and you should really count yourself lucky that you are not sucked into their vortex of vanity.

For those who really for some odd reason care what goes on: they take a loft downtown that used to be a factory, fill it with a moonbounce ("bouncy castle" for you west coasters), stick a hot tub in there, and force everyone to wear pajamas even if they are only there for a couple minutes. This can be anything from sexy lave things to fluffy footie pajamas.

It usually breaks up around noon the next day, when the survivors stumble out for breakfast at Mother's bistro or the Roxy, depending on the calendar.