How to entertain party guests: A tutorial

When guests are over for a party, it's very important to me to make sure they know they're welcome. Or tolerated. Or expected to clean up and make room for my real friends once they show up. And since I don't like to be too obvious about such things, I've found that written reminders about the house is a subtle way to make your will and wishes known to a bunch of drunk strangers tearing up your living room and rummaging your bookshelves for your hidden pornography stash.

As you all know, we’re celebrating the Solstice, which is the longest day of the year, which means every day afterwards will be shorter, serving as a continual reminder of the fact that we're all going to die. Drink up! (posted on front door) 

Coats go in the spare bedroom. Shoes in the garage. Wallets and purses in the sack outside. And your coats and shoes are perfectly safe. (in the hallway) 

If everyone gave me $100, I'd be that much closer One Percent Status. (in living room, next to big tip jar, which remained empty) 

You do know you were supposed to pay a cover, right? (on the back patio wall) 

I don't throw parties. I assemble congregations of acquaintances based on proximity and compatibility, procure provisions and provide my domicile for free range roaming and interaction. (next to phone) 

If you see the rest of us together, leave the room. We're talking about you behind your back. (in family room) 

Someone has the party favor shoved down their pants! Who's going to find it first? (taped to the front of my pants) 

Don't worry. That car alarm is so not yours. And I'm so not trying to get a new car stereo. (in the garage) 

Did you know Richard Russo is at the Chicago Printer’s Row Lit Fest as we speak? You’d better be as entertaining as Richard Russo. (on the bookshelf) 

Variety? You want variety? We got Coors and Coors light. There’s your variety. (on the basement fridge) 

I despise you people. (on the inside of the front door) 

I don’t know how you found it, but rest assured, that rubber ball and leather strap is only for the guest of honor. Now take these pills. (in the bathroom) 

Look, I’m sympathetic. Dogbites can be painful. But you clearly ventured into the dogs' side of the house. (wall of the upstairs hallway) 

When I have to kick a lot of people out of my house because an old enemy has returned from the dead to battle my alter ego, I usually get real drunk and badmouth everyone in a belligerent tirade about their overall freeloading and shallowness until they get disgusted and leave. Learned it from Batman Begins. Just an FYI. (not posted anywhere, but a mass text I sent the next morning to explain my drunken badmouthing of everyone about their freeloading and shallowness, which prompted their disgust and leaving)