Old grey mare, she ain't what she used to be...
Since the advent of "Brendo Birthday Month," I have done my best to shift focus from my actual birthday onto spreading the love throughout the entirety of August. Still, now that the day has actually arrived, I can be forgiven a whiff of introspection. Here, on my 30th birthday, I present a list of things I did in my first 30 years of life that I will NOT do in my second 30 years:
- Hold a "Dukakis 88" sign outside my high school. I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm guessing I'll never do that again.
- Sprout my first pube.
- Look when Pete 'The Applesauce Master' Galea of Fooled By April points out his erection. For some reason, he occasionally likes to point out to the room that yes in fact he's flying at full mast. When I ask him why he feels the need to draw my eye to his engorged crotch, he says "I feel it would be rude not to." No more!
- Write an angry letter to the editor of Cat Fancy magazine. Lesson learned.
- Pay money to see Hootie and the Blowfish in concert. You read that correctly. I was therrrrrre, maaaaaaan! It was like Woodstock for kids in white baseball caps. In my defense, H and the B (that's what insiders used to call them) were an absolutely balls-out HUGE band back in the day. They sold out Great Woods (now the Tweeter Center). Unfortunately, they did nothing to deserve that kind of acclaim - such a shitty-ass vanilla show. I still regret it. I'm secretly glad Darius Rucker has been reduced to making confusing fast food commercials. Speaking of which...
- Eat McDonald's in the morning for breakfast, Taco Bell for lunch and McDonald's AGAIN for dinner. The same woman rung me up in the McDonald's drive-thru. She looked at me as if to say "What? You're back? What the hell is wrong with you?" Honestly, some days I'm amazed I made it to 30.
- Break my arm helping my brother Colum climb up on a rock. From now on, you can climb your own damn rocks, jerk! (Ahhhh - that one was 23 years in the making. Felt good.)
- Have my appendix removed again. That would just be odd.
- Peg my pants. I know fashion is cyclical and there's an outside chance this shit might come back. Ain't gonna happen. Ridiculous.
- Peg my drummer. Again, lesson learned.
- Take this great ride that is my life for granted. I'm a very lucky man. Thank you all for your kindness and love, on my birthday and on every other day.
Since the advent of "Brendo Birthday Month," I have done my best to shift focus from my actual birthday onto spreading the love throughout the entirety of August. Still, now that the day has actually arrived, I can be forgiven a whiff of introspection. Here, on my 30th birthday, I present a list of things I did in my first 30 years of life that I will NOT do in my second 30 years:
- Hold a "Dukakis 88" sign outside my high school. I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm guessing I'll never do that again.
- Sprout my first pube.
- Look when Pete 'The Applesauce Master' Galea of Fooled By April points out his erection. For some reason, he occasionally likes to point out to the room that yes in fact he's flying at full mast. When I ask him why he feels the need to draw my eye to his engorged crotch, he says "I feel it would be rude not to." No more!
- Write an angry letter to the editor of Cat Fancy magazine. Lesson learned.
- Pay money to see Hootie and the Blowfish in concert. You read that correctly. I was therrrrrre, maaaaaaan! It was like Woodstock for kids in white baseball caps. In my defense, H and the B (that's what insiders used to call them) were an absolutely balls-out HUGE band back in the day. They sold out Great Woods (now the Tweeter Center). Unfortunately, they did nothing to deserve that kind of acclaim - such a shitty-ass vanilla show. I still regret it. I'm secretly glad Darius Rucker has been reduced to making confusing fast food commercials. Speaking of which...
- Eat McDonald's in the morning for breakfast, Taco Bell for lunch and McDonald's AGAIN for dinner. The same woman rung me up in the McDonald's drive-thru. She looked at me as if to say "What? You're back? What the hell is wrong with you?" Honestly, some days I'm amazed I made it to 30.
- Break my arm helping my brother Colum climb up on a rock. From now on, you can climb your own damn rocks, jerk! (Ahhhh - that one was 23 years in the making. Felt good.)
- Have my appendix removed again. That would just be odd.
- Peg my pants. I know fashion is cyclical and there's an outside chance this shit might come back. Ain't gonna happen. Ridiculous.
- Peg my drummer. Again, lesson learned.
- Take this great ride that is my life for granted. I'm a very lucky man. Thank you all for your kindness and love, on my birthday and on every other day.
7 Comments:
you poseur douchewad, I attended that Hootie show with you and we both agreed that it was actually pretty good and that they were cool about being humble with their success.
Then we watched Lara King's friend get very aggressively fucked in the front seat of her car while Zuppardi acted weird and scratched his acne patch.
Just saying.
I don't remember liking the show - I think we talked ourselves into not hating it because we just spent all that money all that bland.
I can't believe I forgot about the car-fucking, though. Ah, youth.
YOOOUUUUUUKKK!
Your band is really bad. A reminder is always helpful. Also, when are you guys inevitably breaking up?
This was a really good post until it got faggy at the end.
Tough crowd on the old journal this week. Tough crowd.
You're not going to peg your drummer? *groan* Dammit, man, that woulda been hot...
*goes to take a cold shower*
I'm just sayin'....
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