I didn’t know.
I was out of town and I couldn’t get back in time to get you anything.
I didn’t have any money.
They were out of what I wanted to get you, so I just didn’t get you anything.
They had it but it was way too expensive.
I know you aren’t a materialistic sort of person, so hey, why bother?
It’s against my religion to buy presents for people.
It’s against your religion to accept gifts from people.
I just don’t like you and didn’t think you deserved anything.
I’m sure Heather bought you plenty of gifts, why do you need another one from me?
I discovered that I’m severely allergic to what I wanted to get you, when I picked it up and brought it to the counter I broke out in a disgusting rash.
I killed someone with your present this morning and found it necessary to “get rid of it.”
The guy at the counter said “you can purchase this as long as it’s not for your friend Jon.” I didn’t want to lie to the guy, so I had to put it back.
You, uh, mom got you exactly what I was going to get you.
Your present was really fucking cool, so I kept it for myself.
I got you a car, but I wrecked it.
I dropped it down the sewer.
A pack of mongrel dogs tore it to shreds.
Some guy just ran up and stole it right from my hands.
Your present had explosive chemicals in it. I shook it the wrong way and it blew up.
I found it in the woods. The police said it was “evidence” and took it away from me.
It got away from me before I could kill it and give it to you.
Your apartment wasn’t big enough for it.
Heather would probably take a free night’s services from a prostitute the wrong way.
I blacked out.
What, you didn’t get it yet? The postal service can’t do anything right.
It’s right here. It’s an invisible present.
It was too vulgar, I didn’t want to upset your stomach on your birthday.
You don’t like presents, do you?
Well, Happy Birthday anyway…