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Oh, My Sweet Sixteen. It was a botched surprise party with, I think, a greasy box of Fast Pizza Delivery (FPD). I did pass my Driver's Test. I got marked down for driving too slow. And I remember I got a dental-floss thin gold bracelet in a Mervyn's box from my not-really-my-BF-but-I-did-anything-to-get-his-attention "date." He soon dumped me. Oh, how Super.

But really, turning 16 was the best. Driving. You know, driving. But now that's all changed. I've discovered another kinda sweet 16 standard. My *Super* Sweet Sixteen. You know it. I thought MTV's manufacturing-desire-machine could never get to me. But after two years of watching this show, I too have succumbed to the pressure. Now I'm DEMANDING, with tears streaking through my Mystic Tan, that my father—OK, THE Father—throw me a lavish Super Sweet Sixteen do-over to be THE party of all time. Here's the plan:

The Invites: Oprah passes out my invites from her Wildest Dreams Bus. The invites are contained on a Mac Light that plays a rap video message from dad—the big guy—inviting guests to attend my party. Or else. In the video, Kanye spins beats in the background and Beyonce drops it like it's hot. Among the guests: Barack AND Hillary. Joan of Arc. The Buddha and Miley Cyrus. My BFFs Janell and Heather. Not invited: You. I have all the power, b-yatches. Don't hate.

My outfit: I'm fitted with a hologram coating that displays the retro couture masterpieces of all time. My gown "changes" every 5 mins. including the best-of Audrey Hepburn. Grace Kelly. Jackie O. Marilyn. Carrie B.

The locale: The moon. Heaven is played out. Sorry, DAD. No one has EVER had their Super Sweet 16 on the moon. Holla. Our space shuttle is covered in Swarovski crystals. I take pilot lessons from Neil Armstrong (mortality is not an issue when dad is the O.G., people) so I can fly the shuttle myself. If this doesn't impress my friends, nothing will. But wait, there's more. Once we're at zero gravity, we drink Cristal out of tubes also covered with Swarovski crystals. There is no drinking age outside the atmosphere. CNN has a live feed of the party. North Korea lifts their media ban for this special event. Holla. We'll eat sushi made out of organic ice and air. Every nation will launch nuclear bombs into space in unison so that my guests can enjoy some massive fireworks. Oh, from the moon we'll project my custom logo, C-ME, on to planet Earth for all to witness. While we're at it: Swag bags for all of humanity. I'm sure all those "poor" kids will love the Magnolia cupcakes and LV dog collars for their teacup pups. I'm trill like that. At some point the Martians come by and crown me their ruler. Boring. As the finale, dad creates a new planet called, duh, Courtney. MTV pimps my planet. And as the encore: Oprah passes me the reins. (She is bigger than dad and He gets this.)

Our surprise musical guest...
...is Tupac. He doesn't have to supply a lost joint from beyond the grave because Dad has resurrected him just for my party. (No disrespect. R.I.P.). American Idol skips Season 7 and instead Seacrest names me Your Next American Idol (whatever, he's just trying to have a presence). That said, my present from Madonna, aside from crediting me with her entire career, is all proceeds from her future concert and record sales. I give her a sigh for her quaintness. So she offers up her children. They work for me now. So do Brangelina's brood. They are, like, so cute. I make Shiloh my new pet, but then I forget her on Mars. OMG!

For the after-party we travel through the centuries in a time-machine made from a Hummer limo (so we'll blend in when we get back home—that's class).

The gifts? Back on Earth dad texts the sun and freezes time so me and my friends have the chance to raid Rodeo Drive and Barneys and Paris Fashion Week for whatever we want. Boring. But then I get the best gift of all. Presented in a small, blue Tiffany box—you know the one—is a shiny, one-of-a-kind pink and yellow diamond encrusted locket engraved with my logo. Inside: The entire universe.

And my first act as master of the universe?

To stop the madness.

Comments (0) | by Courtney on June 17

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