Happy Birthday to Me
I am 28 today and I feel fantastic about it. One more year closer to death I guess - yay!:)
My friend Trina sent me a poem this morning:
Ode to the Bright Green Leaf of Life that Gives Us Life and Otherwise Death (Unless We Are Alive, In Which Case We are Not Dead)
Leaves like Chocolate.
I eat them.
I feel the cold death of myself as the icing slips down my face.
There are trees in the hills...
Trees... they want to kill me, they want to eat me...
Isn't it fantastic? After this poem she asked me to think of her boobs and proceeded to give me five most excellent advices:
1.) If you're having trouble pooping, rock back and forth on the toilet. It astonishes me how many people don't know this.
2.) Go to the doctor tomorrow and tell him/her that you have insomnia. Tell (them) nothing works. Request Ambien.
3?) I cannot remember this one.
4.) Never wager with a Sicilian when death is on the line.
5.) Find an Alexander McCall Smith book written in your native tongue. This one is not so much advise as an order, because I want to know if he's as charming in other languages as he is in English.
I love this girl and I blame her for feeling fantastic today.