Maybe I shouldn't have worn the flesh-colored bodysuit

We've had our share of disagreements tonight.

You wouldn't think that a fundraiser dinner for the Boys And Girls Club could get so contentious. I mean, many of our own kids are in the restaurant tonight, and here we are setting a terrible example - arguing bitterly over money, jealously bickering over leadership roles, and selfishly trying to influence event dates. I'm disappointed that at this, the end of tonight's dinner, we still haven't reached resolution for any of the important issues.

Perhaps there is one belief that has been vocalized tonight, on multiple occasions, that I can admit to agreeing to, however. Perhaps I can concede to the overwhelming sentiment that on this night, maybe I shouldn't have worn the flesh-colored body suit.

No, I'm not saying that because the cake stains might be hard to get out. When I wear this thing (which is more often than you might care to imagine), I can't exactly wear underwear - don't need those lines showing through, right? - so I have bigger fish to fry than cake stains. When I say that, I mean that there are other, more troubling stains to worry about.

While we're on the topic, though, you were still out of line to throw that cake, Mrs. Walker. You can't go getting upset with everyone who points out the fact that your son has an abnormally large forehead. I don't care if it's because he "has Down Syndrome." The fact is, it scares the other children. And me, quite frankly.

Speaking of apologies I don't owe, let's talk about you, Mr. Fernandez. This is one of the older flesh-colored body suits in my wardrobe, and as such, it has developed some wear and tear over the years. Mind you, one of those tears - in a rather unfortunate location, I will add - was exacerbated by a lunging, evasive maneuver while some of your contemporaries were hurling foodstuffs and silverware in my direction. Nonetheless, I didn't hold a gun to your head and force you to sit in the front row. You knew what this was when we started.

In conclusion, this all could have been avoided. I told you all at last year's dinner that if we held this thing at TGI Friday's one more time, there would be consequences. Seriously! TGI Fridays? What do they have, the worst ad campaign in the history of miserable chain restaurants? It was not that much of me to ask that this year we go to Bennigan's, but you stubborn jackasses just couldn't let me have my way. Well, I have news for you - I'm the head of this chapter for another two years, and I can't be voted out.

So, feel free to use what little power you have and choose another crappy venue for next year's dinner. If we end up at this pit stain of a restaurant again, so help me, things are only going to get worse.

Kids, you might want to stay home for that one.