Turning 49

On Monday I turned 49 and realized that this is the worst birthday to have. People have 365 days to plot the sophmoric, childish and truly stupid party that serves to do nothing more than humiliate you while you try to appear good natured about the whole thing. I can't wait.
I have had dancing monkeys doing a bump and grind striptease in front of me. I have had surprise parties with evidence from my past that was not fit for children posted on every wall. I had one party that went so well only three people were arrested and six were let go with a warning. Given my history with birthday parties I may have to leave the country for the month of October next year.
This brings up the question of where to go? I don't speak Canadian so north is out. My Mexican is a little a weak so nada on the south. I'm leaning toward England. I need some dental work and I need to diet so this can kill two birds with one stone. Then over to Ireland and Scotland where they invented whisky. I will be putting my name on a liver donation list before I arrive. Serious damage shall be imparted and many brain cells will lose their lives as well. But only the weak ones. By the time I return I will be 50 and officially "senior" in the eyes of the early bird special world. Involuntary naps await me in only 359 days. I can hardly wait.