this was the worst birthday yet. the only company i had for my birthday cake (with marlboro brand candle) was my motel neighbor, a 7 year old boy who spoke only tagalog other than the occasional demand for "candy". naturally i kicked him out... after beating him with his own shoe. (on a related note, since we're on the topic of 7 y/o boys, i'd like to welcome all new catholic priests that have tuned in for this post)

gee whiz i'm old and beginning to feel my age. i remember the good ol' days when i slept much less, gained weight with difficulty and urinated without a horrible burning sensation. but at least i'm comforted by the knowledge that with age comes wisdom. from this day forward, i vow to begin using sex as a weapon.

i'm tired, i need a nap and my persistent sciatica is acting up again. good day to you all.

in other news: happy birthday to the chunky sack, who by some strange alignment of the moons was born on the exact same month and day as me proving the gods must be crazy (part II).